Hosker, G [Sword of Cartimandua 00.5] Ulpius Felix- Warrior of Rome (34 page)

“Welcome Queen.”

“All Hail Claudius.” Claudius was impressed that her Latin was flawless, this was an educated woman. “I bring you a gift. “She gestured with her arm and her bodyguards brought out Caractacus, the putative King of the Britons, and his face displayed just how much he hated the woman who had betrayed him. The queen to whom he had turned in the hope that, united, they could defeat the monster that was Rome. Instead she had ensured the safety of Brigantia and her high place in the Emperor’s favour. “It is Caractacus. He was your enemy and now he is mine.” Her guards dragged the bound warrior to be symbolically thrown at the feet of the Emperor. Before Claudius could speak, he always gathered his thoughts before uttering anything important, Cartimandua drew from a scabbard in her chariot, the most magnificent sword Claudius had ever seen. Although a cerebral rather than military man Claudius admired beauty and functionality and this magnificent weapon fulfilled both as well as anything he had seen before. Its steel blade was so highly polished it was almost silver, with a line of gold trickling sinuously along its length. It was half as long as the tall Queen’s body and looked as though it needed two hands to hold it, although the warrior queen held it in one. The handle was adorned with a red jewel, the size of a grape and Claudius surmised that it must be a ruby, an incredibly rare ruby. The black ebony hilt was engraved with what appeared to be pure gold. “Would it please the Emperor for me to despatch this rebel and part his sorry head from his body?”

“N-n-no Queen. I wish to take him back to Rome so that the whole Empire can see the power of the Emperor and the Brigante.” Her cold callous attitude to execution impressed the Emperor. She had no problem with carrying out the act herself, something the Emperor knew he could not do. He could order a murder or an execution as easily as he ordered supper but he could not soil his hands. Claudius turned to a grizzled centurion who stood at his side. “Gerantium, untie the prisoner and have your men take him away then join the Queen and myself inside my tent for we have much business to discuss.”

As they entered the pavilion especially erected for the occasion Claudius began to wonder if this island was as wild as he had thought. Although the buildings were primitive and some of the actions of its people somewhat barbaric he could see a sophisticated level of politics which made him think it might become civilised one day. In this young queen he had seen someone who could have held her own with the senate. She was confident, she was cruel, she was calculating and she was charming. The old Emperor shook his head to free himself from the spell he was falling under. He felt happier now with this island for the northern part would be secure with an ally. He had no doubt that Queen Cartimandua would remain in power and the Emperor determined to support her in that. He was glad that she did not live in Rome for if she did he would fear for his throne.

The next book in the series

The Sword of Cartimandua

Prologue

AD 50 Stanwyck

Claudius might have been Emperor of the largest Empire the world had ever seen but he still hated the rain and this outpost of the Empire was a foul, wet, disease ridden cesspit added to which he had a cold; he never had a cold in Rome. He sneezed noisily and glowered angrily at the slave by his side. “Well? Why are we still waiting?” His famous stammer disappeared when he addressed servants or was angry and on this wet and dismal morning he was not at his best.

“I was assured, divine one, that she would be here presently.”

He shuddered at the title; like his Uncle Tiberius and his father Germanicus he despised the very notion that a mortal could become a living god. He had hoped that both the horrendous journey across the interminable land of Gaul, the ferocious ocean leading to this end of the world and the barbaric people he had so far met would make the journey worthwhile. The kings and queens who had been presented to him were all barbarians and the not so divine Claudius was glad that his Praetorians were on hand for he did not trust one of them.

Claudius was about to make some barbed comment about divinity when he heard the three blasts on the buccina which heralded the arrival of Queen Cartimandua, leader of the Brigantes. Even Claudius was impressed by the striking young woman who confidently manoeuvred her chariot between the waiting lines of legionaries. He had heard stories of her beauty but he was not prepared for both her presence and power; she seemed o dwarf her surroundings. Her jet black hair framed an incredibly white face. Her deep set violet eyes seemed to leap out from her face and her lips, obviously coloured by the crushed body of a scarab beetle, surrounded by remarkably white teeth. The Queen was, Claudius realised, everything he had heard and more. He found it hard to countenance that a young woman who looked as though she had only seen a handful of summers should rule the most powerful tribe in Northern Britannia and had done so, successfully, for over seven years. The way she handled a chariot showed that she was a warrior as did the skulls adorning the outside of the chariot. He could make out, just behind the chariot the wretch who was being dragged in chains. Although he had never seen him, the Emperor knew it was Caractacus the leader of the Britons in their fight against Rome; Caractacus the leader who had sought refuge with the most powerful ruler in the North of these islands, Cartimandua. Caractactus who was the ex-lover of the rapacious young Queen had been discarded and then discarded. If there was one thing that Claudius admired it was someone who could scheme, plot and survive as well as he had. She certainly had been a confident young queen who took over the rule of her land, Brigantia when her father was murdered. She ruled the largest tribal lands in Britannia; spanning the country from coast to coast and Claudius realised that she was wise beyond her years; she had seen the power of the Roman war machine and come to an accommodation rather than conflict. Perhaps that was why she ruled this enormous land of wild men and wilder places. Even the Emperor of Rome would need to be careful about the promises he made.

“Welcome Queen.”

“All Hail Claudius.” Claudius was impressed that her Latin was flawless, this was an educated woman. “I bring you a gift. “She gestured with her arm and her bodyguards brought out Caractacus, the putative King of the Britons, and his face displayed just how much he hated the woman who had betrayed him. The queen to whom he had turned in the hope that, united they could defeat the monster that was Rome. Instead she had ensured the safety of Brigantia and her high place in the Emperor’s favour. “It is Caractacus. He was your enemy and now he is mine.” Her guards dragged the bound warrior to be symbolically thrown at the feet of the Emperor. Before Claudius could speak, he always gathered his thoughts before uttering anything important; Cartimandua drew from a scabbard in her chariot, the most magnificent sword Claudius had ever seen. Although a cerebral rather than military man Claudius admired beauty and functionality and this magnificent weapon fulfilled both as well as anything he had seen before. Its steel blade was so highly polished it was almost silver, with a line of gold trickling sinuously along its length. It was half as long as the tall Queen’s body and looked as though it needed two hands to hold it, although the warrior queen held it in one. The handle was adorned with a red jewel, the size of a grape and Claudius surmised that it must be a ruby, an incredibly rare ruby. The black ebony hilt was engraved with what appeared to be pure gold. “Would it please the Emperor for me to despatch this rebel and part his sorry head from his body?”

“N-n-no Queen. I wish to take him back to Rome so that all Rome can see the power of Rome and the Brigante.” Her cold callous attitude to execution impressed the Emperor. She had no problem with carrying out the act herself, something the Emperor knew he could not do. He could order a murder or an execution as easily as he ordered supper but he could not soil his hands. Claudius turned to a grizzled centurion who stood at his side. “Gerantium untie the prisoner and have your men take him away then join the Queen and myself inside my tent for we have much business to discuss.”

As they entered the pavilion especially erected for the occasion Claudius began to wonder if this island was as wild as he had thought. Although the buildings were primitive and some of the actions of its people somewhat barbaric he could see a sophisticated level of politics which made him think it might become civilised. In this young queen he had seen someone who could have held her own with the senate. She was confident, she was cruel, she was calculating and she was charming. The old Emperor shook his head to free himself from the spell he was falling under. He felt happier now with this island for the northern part would be secure with an ally. He had no doubt that Queen Cartimandua would remain in power and the Emperor determined to support her in that. He was glad that she did not live in Rome for if she did he would fear for his throne.

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