Hosker, G [Sword of Cartimandua 00.5] Ulpius Felix- Warrior of Rome (31 page)

“Titus, take the Decurion back to the capsarius. The rest of you, reform on me.  Wedge!”

Riding at the front the three turmae began to cut and hack their way through the Iceni lines.  Behind him Wolf heard Marcus, Drusus and the others desperately trying to keep up with him and protect him.  He felt as he had done all those years ago when he had first led his friends.  They were not individuals, they were one weapon and a mighty weapon it was.

The tide changed quickly in the battle and the warriors of Boudicca’s army now knew that they had lost.  The braver ones remembered the words of the Queen and fought on but some of the less brave souls began to retreat and a retreat is infectious.  Soon the bulk of the army was trying to escape but their families and their wagons prevented that. The cavalry found unprotected backs rather than swords and the slaughter began in earnest. None showed mercy. They hade seen the bodies of the women with the breasts removed, the babies spiked on spears.  They remembered their dead comrades and they killed.

Boudicca could not believe what she was witnessing.  Her bodyguard threw themselves at the legionaries advancing to capture her. Her lover Caractacus had surrendered and was now an object of scorn in Rome.  Boudicca would not suffer that indignity.  She went to the wagons were the once screaming women now stood silent and shocked.  She took out the vial of poison.  She had intended it for her children and she would have died with a sword in her hand.  She now knew that was not meant to be and raising her eyes to the skies and murmuring a prayer for her children the Queen of the Iceni swallowed down the poison. It was painful but it was swift and the red haired Boudicca fell before her people as the cohorts continued to massacre everyone in their way.

The slaughter went on into the dusk. A few escaped but it was only a few and the message they took back to the villages in the south of the land was, do not fight the Romans.  It is like trying to hold back the sea, you will lose. It was the end of rebellion and dissension in the south of the province and the end of the warriors who lived there.

The ala scoured the field looking for wounded and dead comrades.  There were fewer than they had expected.  As they finally went into a camp for the night Flavius Bellatoris was summoned to the tent of the Governor.  There were the Tribunes and Prefects of the other forces.  “Well done.  We have done what I hoped we would do, we have destroyed this threat. I have men counting the bodies of their dead but it seems to be in the thousands.” He nodded his satisfaction. “We have suffered less than four hundred dead.” He looked darkly towards the west.  “Had the Legate of the Second Augusta brought his legion it might have been even less but this is a time for celebration.  Flavius Bellatoris.  You have led your men well and all speak highly of you as a warrior.  I can confirm that you are the new Prefect of the First Pannonian Ala.”

Tribune Celsus came and put his arm around him.  “Marius would have been pleased.  He thought highly of you.”

“Make a list of those warriors who deserve phalera and give it to my clerk.  Tomorrow we will return to Camulodunum and begin the process of burying and then rebuilding.”

Wolf went to the sick bay to seek Cava.  He saw his friend, looking paler and with a bandaged and bloody stump.

“I don’t think you will be riding again old friend.”

“No.  Me neither but they saved my life and the capsarius says that the stump should heal well.”

“What will you do?  Return to Pannonia?”

Horse shook his head vigorously. “What would I do there? No.  The capsarius says that I will get a small pension.  I have saved a little and I have an idea to open an alehouse in Eboracum. You and the lads will be based up there and the last time we visited there was o tavern.  I will clean up.”

Wolf nodded.  “I think you will.”

“Do you have a name for it?”

He gave a wan smile.  “My horse died but I still have the saddle.  I thought I would hang the saddle outside and call it The Saddle.”

“Good name.  We will frequent it old friend.” Wolf looked sad. “I am the last of the original Decurion now.  All my friends I led are dead and now my oldest friend is leaving.”

“You will have new friends Wolf, the men you lead.”

“No Cava, we both know that you cannot be friends with those you lead.  I have learned that now.  A leader is lonely.  Like a lone wolf it has to rely on its own wits.”

“I am still your friend.  When you come to Eboracum then you can share your pain with one who knows.”

Wolf was delighted when Flavius gave him the news of his promotion.  “Well done sir. You deserve it.” He suddenly caught a glimpse of a pudgy hand.  “That still leaves us with Cresens as Decurion Princeps.”

“Don’t worry about that Wolf.  I am now his master not the Legate.  We will watch this one.”

“Horse lost his hand sir.  He is going to open an alehouse in Eboracum. I thought we might use some of the ala fund to help him.  He deserves it.”

“Of course.  See to it.”

Chapter 16

Prefect Bellatoris summoned the officers to his tent soon after dawn. “The Governor has ordered us to secure Camulodunum.  There may still be rebels there. Once the army has joined us and the area made safe then we will return north to stop the raids from across the frontier.  We will also have to begin recruiting again.”

As Wolf led his depleted turma east he suddenly felt old.  When he had joined he had been but a young boy now, even though he not yet twenty eight he felt much older than the young men like Marcus and Lucius whom he now led. He had already told the prefect that he intended to inter and honour his dead comrades when they reached the scene of their deaths. Flavius was in full agreement.  It was not their way to forget their dead and they needed to finish the business of the dead and then get on with the duties of the living.

They knew when they were close to the scene of the massacre for there were crows, magpies and ravens squawking screaming and fighting over the remains of the dead Romans. It was even more gruesome than they had anticipated for the bodies had been despoiled. The bodies had been stripped and emasculated. The turmae looked in horror and wondered how they would manage to piece together the dead to give them the dignity of burial. They laid the dead of the ala in one row and the other cohorts and the legion in two others.  They would be buried by their own but the Pannonians would bury their own.  Eventually they managed to find the bodies of their dead and, while half the ala dug their grave the rest placed them with swords. It was a long grave for there were many dead. They placed the prefect in the middle with Gerjen, Panyvadi, Darvas and Kadarcs. Each had a sword laid on their body and Wolf found the wolf standard.  It had been hacked and cut but it was still recognisable as their standard.  He placed it reverently next to Gerjen, his oldest friend.  Finally he took the wolf symbol from round his neck and laid it on Gerjen.

“Gerjen, my brother, I owed you a life.  I could not give you that life here on earth but I give you the wolf to guard you and my friends in the next life. Today I am Wolf no longer, I am Lupus no longer.  Wolf died with Gerjen and the friends of my youth.  From this day I am Decurion Ulpius Felix and Wolf is but a memory.”

He stepped back and Prefect Flavius spoke. “Today we honour our dead.  We will remember your bravery always.  Sleep brothers beneath the soil of Britannia, far from your home.” The soil was placed over the bodies which were soon hidden.  Then they replaced the turf and the whole ala rode reverently across the grave so that by the time they had crossed there was no sing of the monument to the dead.  No grave robbers could spoil it and the ala knew to the uncia where their friends lay.

There was far more destruction at Camulodunum but it was less distressing; these were not their comrades.  They began the gruesome task of laying the bodies out.  The women and girls that they had caught had been raped and their breasts cut off but there were mercifully few of them.  The veterans had had the same treatment and, when they found the head and body of Publius they could see that he had fought valiantly for there were many wounds on his corpse. As with the ala, they buried him apart and left the rest for the legions. The Temple of Claudius had the smell of burnt meat and, when they went inside they saw that the ones inside had all been burned alive. Prefect Flavius Bellatoris ordered his young troopers outside.  That was not a task for them. “Build a camp and secure the area. The Governor will have his work cut out here.”

When the Governor arrived he was appalled. “Where is the procurator?  Have you found his body?”

“He could be in there sir but they are almost unrecognisable.”

“No Prefect.  If he had stayed here his body would have been outside defending the walls.”

“We laid all of the bodies over there sir.  We buried Decurion Publius Tullus for he was one of ours.”

Governor Paulinus could see the strain on the face of the Prefect.  “I am sorry prefect.  I can see that you have done all that you could.  Tomorrow take your men north. Use Eboracum as a base.  When we have finished here I will send the Ninth north and find you some recruits.” He glanced up at the remains of the ala. “You have taken many casualties but at least now you can begin to build your ala with fresh new men and an experienced ala of troopers.”

Flavius took the praise as it was intended but he did not see experience he saw pain and distress at the losses they had taken.  When he caught sight of Gaius Cresens he became angry.  If it were not for Legate Cerialis foisting him upon them the Ulpius Felix would be the Decurion Princeps and he would have someone on whom he could rely.  He could not rely on his deputy.  At least he still had Sextus back at Cataractonium.  He would give them some stability. Tribune Celsus joined him. “There were no survivors then?”

“Not so far but who knows, there may be some. You will have to find them we are to return north tomorrow.”

“We shall follow you soon Flavius and I will be glad not to have the smell of burnt flesh in my nostrils.”

The task of visiting the other settlements was given to Tribune Celsus. His turma was too small for anything else and he was pleased to be away from the charnel house. Verulamium was the same as Camulodunum had been save that there they had not sought refuge in a temple but they had been slaughtered and mutilated where they fell. Tribune Celsus found the old hard man of his turma Aulus Murgus; decapitated and emasculated he still had the same serious face.  “Well Aulus you proved me wrong.  You were a fine Decurion and you served the ala well.  Be at peace.”

Depression was sitting heavily on his shoulders as he headed down Via Claudia.  So much death and no survivors. Decurion Spurius Ocella was a born survivor and he lived still; as he said to his Tribune, “I am too stubborn to die.” He did, indeed, show a great desire to live and so it was fitting that he should find the only survivors from the great slaughter. As they headed towards Londinium he caught sight of something moving, something which was not an animal. They had seen no one living since the battle and his senses were alerted. He said quietly, “I have just seen something sir; over to the east of the road.  I’ll take a couple of the boys and investigate.” The Tribune did not take offence that the Decurion appeared to be giving commands. He had learned to respect the veteran and his hunches. “First four, follow me at the gallop!” As they left the road Spurius waved first right and then left.  The four troopers split up and the Decurion headed for the place he had seen the movement.  He drew his sword; the odds were that it was a barbarian and he had not lived this long without learning caution.

Suddenly a youth leapt up to face him with a pugeo held in his hand. The sword in the Decurion’s hand sliced down and only stopped when the Roman saw that the youth was standing before five crying girls. “What the… Put the dagger down sonny or you’ll be dead.”

Relief flooded his face.  “You are Roman.!” He picked the girls up.  “We are saved.  He is Roman.”

Hooves thundered behind as the Tribune rode up.  “So it seems there are survivors.  Who are you?”

“I am Gaius Metellus Aurelius and I lived in Londinium with my parents.  When the Iceni came they killed my father and my mother.  I was not in when they were killed but when I returned and saw they were dead I tried to flee.  I found these girls hiding close to the river and I helped them to escape.  We headed north for the bridge was burned and I thought to get to Camulodunum.”

The Tribune shook his head.  “Camulodunum, Verulamium, all are destroyed and you,” he waved his arm to include them all, “are the only survivors.”

The youth sank to his haunches.  “Then Rome is finished?”

“No son it will take more than this little setback to destroy Rome.” The Tribune looked down at his Decurion.  “Escort them to the Governor; he will know what to do with them.”

The boy stood defiantly with his dagger in his hand.  “I want to fight! Let me join your men for I can ride.”
They all smiled at his courage.  “Sorry Gaius, we legionary cavalry and you are too young.”

He shook his head, “After what I have seen no one is too young.”

Gaius rode double with Spurius while the girls all rode with a trooper.  “You are a brave’ un I’ll give you that.  Did you think you could kill me with that dagger?”

“I have killed three warriors in the last few days.  I learned to attack first and ask questions later.”

Spurius was impressed.  The youth might look fragile but he had a courage about him that many legionaries would have admired. “If you want to fight and you want to ride I might be able to help you.”

“But the Tribune said…”

“No he is quite right.  You can’t join the Ninth but the Pannonians, they lost many men in the rebellion and they are looking for recruits.  You seem to me that you might be just the sort they are looking for.  I am not promising mind, and they are based in the north.  Would you leave your home?”

“What home,” he said bitterly, “my home, my family and my world went up in flames.  The north sounds good.”

Decurion Princeps Gaius Cresens might have been riding alongside Prefect Bellatoris but he felt like a leper as no one spoke to him.  He listened to the easy banter of the ala and their officers as the headed up the Via Claudia but he was excluded.  It was as though he wasn’t there.  His turma also felt the same.  They had not taken part in the first battle and they, and their leader had been reluctant warriors at Boudicca’s end.  Flavius too was thinking of the strained atmosphere.  When they reached the fort he would have to speak with Cresens, much as it pained him to do so.  He had the ala to think about. The road north gave Ulpius Felix the opportunity to think and reflect on the change the few last months had brought. He had gone from being close to good friends to become an isolated leader. The lonely and empty land through they travelled serves as a reminder of his loneliness.