Hosker, G [Sword of Cartimandua 00.5] Ulpius Felix- Warrior of Rome (25 page)

“Let them go!” They heard the scramble through the brush and the galloping of horses down the road. “Gaius, check for casualties!”

He looked down at the Iceni who lay at his feet, his life blood draining through his leg which was cur through to the bone. He spat at Wolf’s feet.  “You have no honour you Roman dog. You could not fight me as a man!”

“A man with honour does not sneak up to his enemies at night.” He kicked the man’s sword out of reach.  “And you will die without a sword in your hand.”

The man suddenly laughed.  “That is your belief, not mine.  I will go now to the Mother and I will return stronger from the Earth.  This is why you will never defeat us Roman.” Wolf watched as the man slowly died, the last sigh of live whispering from his dead lips. “Arminius is dead and three others have slight wounds.”

“We will bury him in the morning. Half sleep and half watch.” He saw Gaius’ pained expression.  “They may come back.  Better to be safe than sorry.  Wake me at moonrise.”

They found two horses wandering in the fields nearby as dawn broke and they slung two of the dead Iceni on to their backs.  The travelled wearily to the Roman fort, handed over the Quaestor and taxes and the dead Iceni to the Prefect. “They could be bandits Decurion.”

“They could be but both you and I know they are not.”

The Prefect took Wolf by the arm and lowered his voice. “There will come a time when we exact revenge for this but that time is not yet.  You have done well Decurion and it was a clever ruse to carry the taxes on the horses.  I will say so in my report.”

“That will not bring back my dead trooper but I understand that politics sometimes makes for unpleasant decisions.  We will, sir, with your permission, head back to Lindum.  Our wok here is done.”

As he left the Praetorium the Quaestor grabbed his arm.  “Thank you Decurion and my apologies for doubting you.  It is thanks to you that I am alive and I know that.”

“Thank you Quaestor but I was just doing my duty.”

“But you would have given your life for me and those of your men.”

He nodded, “It is what we are paid for.”

Chapter 13

Eboracum Winter 59 A.D.

Marius and the ala had bee summoned from their forts to the embryo fortress of Eboracum. Although still a wooden structure there were now docks and the Classis Britannica was able to bring men and supplies directly into the erstwhile capital of the Roman north.  The Legate was happier to have direct access to support now that his forces were so stretched.

Centurion Maro, First Spear of the Ninth was there as was Prefect Spurius of the Gallic Cohort. “Things are moving in the Province.  Gaius Suetonius Paulinus is leading the Twentieth on an attack on Mona.  We will finally be rid of those vipers and King Prasutagus of the Iceni has died.  It means the Emperor Nero now rules jointly with Boudicca the Queen.”

First Spear snorted, “And with due respect sir, how in the God’s name will that work. We know from Decurion Felix’s report that she hates the Romans and has just been waiting to take power. She is no Cartimandua, she is the opposite.”

“Yes well that is as may be but we have been asked to move a cohort to Durobrivae with half of the ala as a contingency plan in case they rise up.”

“One cohort and five hundred horsemen will not stop the Iceni.”

“We are sending the Gallic cohort as well First Spear.”

“That is still just two and a half thousand men Legate.”

“I will be commanding them.” He said it as though his presence was worth another thousand men but the centurion just rolled his eyes heavenward. “We will leave at the end of the week. Prefect Proculus stay behind for a moment.”

The others nodded to Marius as they left. The Legate sat with fingers together looking at the map. “Sir?”

“Oh sorry Prefect. Now when you leave half of the ala at Cataractonium I assume that you will leave the Decurion Princeps in charge of the half ala.”

“I had not thought that far ahead.”

“Well I would like you with me so let us leave him there. And how about your older officers?”

“Decurion Murgus retired last year and moved to Verulamium.  Decurion Sextus has retired but stayed on as Quartermaster.”

“So you have enough stability there.”

“Yes sir.”

“I think we need a second Decurion Princeps.”

“Well there are two obvious candidates; Decurion Felix and Decurion Paterculus.”

The Legate shook his head. “Both good men and worthy of their position but they are Pannonian and we need Romans.”

“In that case Decurion Buteo, he is the last of the original Troopers.”

“I think he is a little too old.”

Marius wondered where the Legate was going with this; he obviously had a candidate in mind. “Who would you recommend then sir?”

“Gaius Cresens.”

“No sir!”

The Legate’s eyes narrowed and he suddenly sat upright. “What exactly do you mean Prefect?”

“I mean that I do not want that pervert in my ala at all and I certainly do not want him as Decurion Princeps.”

“You forget yourself Prefect.  I am Legate and, in the Governor’s absence, I make all appointments and Gaius Cresens will be the Decurion Princeps in your ala. Need I remind you Prefect that your family name does not give you security in your post?”

“That sounds like a threat to me Legate.”

He shrugged nonchalantly, “To be honest I do not care what you take to be a threat or an order.  But it will happen.”

Marius wanted to reach over and punch the pompous Legate in the face but he knew he had no power at all. “Very well sir but I will not be responsible for his treatment in the ala.”

The Legate stood and spoke with a pause between each word to emphasis its meaning. “You are the Prefect of the ala and if anything untoward happens to Gaius Cresens then there will be a new Prefect in command of the ala.”

“Sir!”

The ala was camped close to the river and, as he walked back, Marius wondered how he could break the news to his officers. There would be no easy way and he owed his officers, and the men, honesty. He felt himself colouring already before he even met them.  This was embarrassing and a mark of his family’s fall from favour. He just hoped they would understand. He walked slowly into the tent.  There was a good atmosphere and he could tell that they had been drinking.  It was not often that they had the chance to relax and let down their guard; here at Eboracum they were safe.

“Hello sir! And where are we off to now?”

Kadarcs had never changed and, even as a Decurion he was still irrepressible. “Just down south Decurion.  We are going to be close to the Iceni.”

Wolf gave Cava a sharp look. He had told his friend about the threat and warned that they would have to move further south. “Prasutagus?”

“Yes Wolf, he has died.”

“Then we are in for a shit load of trouble.”

The mood had instantly changed and Marius knew he had to be honest. “The ala is splitting in two.  The Decurion Princeps will remain in Cataractonium with half of the turmae and we will go south to Durobrivae with the rest and the new Decurion Princeps.” Flavius shrugged.

They all looked in anticipation at Wolf and Cava. There was much nudging and murmuring. Flavius knew the Prefect well and this did not look like good news. “Who is it to be then sir?”

Marius took a deep breath and looked assiduously at Wolf. “It is Gaius Cresens.”

The one Decurion that Marius had expected to react the most strongly just sat there; a cold hard expression on his face. The rest all began talking at once. Marius held up a tired hand.  “It is done; it is the Legate’s decision.” The noise subsided.  “If he is hurt then there will be a new Prefect. He will meet us at Durobrivae.”

The euphoria and excitement of the moment dissipated lie fog on a summer’s morning. Wolf stood and, putting his hand on the Prefect’s shoulder, said, “It is not your fault Prefect.  We will not let you down and we will deal with it.” The threat in Wolf’s voice sent shivers down the prefect’s spine.

The Selgovae did not normally raid in winter and certainly not into Roman territory but they had seen the new bridge being built in the autumn.  They had waited for the fort to be built but, inexplicably, the men of iron who built the road had disappeared and, gradually, the dreaded horse warriors had stopped their patrols.  To Tad, chief of the Selgovae warband who lived close to the thick forest in the north, this was too good an opportunity to miss. They were hard men and a journey through the cold land in the shortest days did not worry them.  It was as though the gods were aiding them by providing the cover of dark.  The Brigante had women who could be slaves and many animals to feed the Selgovae through the winter. The soft Brigante had become too used to the protection of the Romans and now, as Tad led his men across the wooden bridge in the cold dawn of winter, he thanked the Romans fro making their lives so much easier. They were not mounted for they were a forest people but they moved swiftly through the frosty land. 

The first settlement, ten huts in all, was still asleep when the wolves of the north fell upon them.  Their men were slaughtered and the women and children bound. Tad sent them and their animals north with an escort of ten men.  He still had thirty warriors, which was more than enough to deal with the second settlement, a little further west and close to the river. This collection of eight huts had neither ditch nor fence to keep out intruders but they did have an old man with a weak bladder.  He saw the raiders and yelled a warning, “He died with an arrow in his chest but he had died honourably, helping his people. The few men and boys grabbed whatever they had and hurled themselves at the enemy in an attempt to defend their families. The headman, Cynbel wished his son Gaelwyn and his brother Osgar were with him for then they might have had a chance. As he slew a Selgovae with his axe he saw that they would die and he yelled to the women and children, “Flee to the woods! Find the Romans!” The handful of defenders paid with their lives for the chance to escape but sadly but one boy managed to escape.  The Selgovae slaughtered the defenders and then set off after the women and children.  One small boy, Adair, made himself as small as possible and hid under a bramble bush.  He heard the Selgovae hunting but he lay undiscovered.  When he was sure that they had gone he emerged and, despite Cynbel’s instructions he returned to the village, hoping to find some who still lived. There were none. Remembering the last orders he set off to the south, heading for the Roman road which would bring him to the Roman fort and the horse warriors.

Flavius was still brooding about the appointment of Gaius Cresens when the sentry reported the boy’s arrival. “Bring him in.” Gaius Cresens was not a threat tot Flavius but he would upset the morale of the ala and Flavius could not see why the Legate had ignored the advice of the Prefect. All thoughts of Cresens left his mind as soon as the weeping and bloody boy was brought before him. “Send for the Capsarius and Gaelwyn the scout.” He went to the outer office, “Julius bring some food and water.  This boy is about to collapse.” The ala clerk was an efficient man and he brought the boy some warmed watered down wine. Flavius nodded his thanks. As the boy wolfed down the bread and gratefully drank the warming wine.  His fingers and lips were blue.  Flavius knew he would get no sense from him until he was warmer.

The capsarius quickly dressed the wounds and Gaelwyn came in as the medical orderly was finishing.  “You sent for me…Adair!” As soon as the boy saw Gaelwyn he burst into tears and threw his arms around the youth.

“You know him?”

“He is from my village.”

“Find out what happened.”

Between sobs the boy called Adair blurted out the story. Grim faced, Gaelwyn held the young boy in the crook of his arm.  “The Selgovae raided my village sir and they killed all the men, including my father, and they took our families.”

Flavius knew he had no time to lose. He went to the sentry. “Sound to arms.  The ala rides within the hour.” Turning to the capsarius he said, “Look after the boy.  Come Gaelwyn we shall need your skills this day.”

Gaelwyn needed no urging as he led them unerringly to the village.  The devastation was clear. “Gaelwyn, we have no time to honour the dead now, let us follow.”

“Sir!” The youth scanned the ground and then set off around the edge of the village.  His voice came from the bushes.  “This way sir.  They are heading for the bridge.”

The passed the first raided settlement saw they neared the bridge.  Once they reached it they could see that they had been too late.  On the northern bank lay the bodies of two of the villagers who had been too slow to continue the journey.  Their lack of clothes and the way they lay left the pursuers in no doubt that they had been raped before they had died.

Flavius had the bodies brought back and Gaelwyn waited on the northern bank.  “Come on sir.  We will lose them.”

Flavius shook his head. “These girls were killed many hours ago.” He pointed to the sun which was setting. “We will not find them this night and I cannot follow north, we are the only soldiers in this part of the world.  No Gaelwyn, when the ala returns then we will rescue them.”

Gaelwyn’s face filled with tears. “But sir my mother, my sister Duana, my cousin Ailis?”

“I know Gaelwyn but you have my word that they will be recovered but we will stop any more incursions. Destroy the bridge.”

Decurion Buteo rode next to his friend.  “Is that wise? Have you the authority?”

“The bridge was built when we had a legion here and a full ala.  Until they return this is the frontier once more.  It is my decision Numerius and I will take any blame.”

“We all stand with you.” He nodded to the youth.  “He and his uncle Osgar will take this badly you know?”

“I know but we cannot do aught else.”

As the ala, the Gauls and the First Cohort marched into Durobrivae a messenger was already travelling from Dubris with a message for the Governor.  He did not know its contents but it was like the tiny flame which would engulf the whole province. As he rode north, first to Londinium and then to Durobrivae the Legate himself was receiving news from Mona that the Governor had almost defeated the druids but at a great cost.