Hosker, G [Sword of Cartimandua 05] Revolt of the Red Witch (11 page)

“We will need to speak.” The men spoke in the language of the Novontae. Marcus picked up some words but not enough to discern the direction the conversation was taking.  It mattered not, they would either help him or not. After much arguing and gesticulation the old man said, “We will help you.  Where do you need the ship and when?”

There was relief and consternation in Marcus’ mind. “As it will be my ship, for however short a time, I will need it where the Clota meets the sea.  When? Take me there tomorrow and then I will tell you when.” The men discussed, debated and argued a little more.  “My horse I will leave here for I shall not need it now that I own a boat.” Later when sailing north Marcus reflected that the horse, Marcus’ own horse raised by him from a foal was the deciding factor in the deal for it was a good horse which was probably worth as much as the boat itself.

“It is agreed and now we drink!”

As they sailed into the estuary Marcus was so impressed with the skills of the three men who sailed the boat. The old man had insisted on coming with them, Marcus felt it was a point of honour. Marcus scanned the shore but he could not see his companions.  “If you take me in shore I will await my companions.  Meet me again here, in seven days.” He paused, unsure of how to continue.

“We will be here Roman. We have given our word.”

“I know for you are a wise man and you will be rewarded.”

“You have paid enough for an honourable man, to pay us more would make me think we were not doing an honourable thing.” The clear blue eyes bored into Marcus’ and he returned the gaze.

“It is honourable and the Allfather would give it his blessing.”

The old man nodded.  “Then we shall be here.”

As he waded ashore Marcus wondered if his friends would be there or if he would have a lonely night waiting for their return.  Climbing the wooded bank he glanced around hoping to catch a glimpse of a familiar face. Suddenly from out nowhere came a huge fist and a chuckling voice which said, “Thought you would never get here.”

“Macro!”

Gaius stepped out from behind the tree, an arrow notched in his bow. “We have found their camp. Gaelwyn is watching.” He gestured towards the boat. “Do we have transport?”

“They will return for us. They will come back here in seven days.  Now we just need a plan.”

Gaelwyn looked at each of them in turn, “A plan which secures the captives and gets us back here safely.”

Chapter 7

“We will go to Brocauum.” When Morwenna spoke there was no discussion.  Aodh felt a little uneasy as there had been a Roman garrison at the old Carvetii stronghold but he did not risk the wrath of the witch. She smiled at him, the smile a mother gives to a small troubled child. “The Romans will not be there Aodh and now that we have the torc we will soon gain the support of the people.”

The two acolytes also smiled at Aodh; he rarely saw Morwenna speak with them but they seemed to know all that she planned whilst he, the man, was excluded. He shrugged his shoulders.  If this was the way his life would be then so be it.  He had chosen to worship and serve the sorceress and the pains and trials were more than outweighed by the pleasures.

He had been a little wary when they had first left the safety of the cave hidden deep in the Land of the Lakes and travelled so close to Morbium; he remembered the horse warriors who patrolled there and they were but a day’s ride away from their destination in the land of the Carvetii.  Morwenna was adamant; she wanted to visit the farm where she had lived with Ailis. She had told Aodh that he could approach the farm for he was unknown but, in the event, it was unnecessary.  The blackened remains of the main building told the cruel story quite clearly as did the neatly laid graves. When Aodh had found the broken charred arrows he was able to confirm that it had been his clan. He had been reluctant to follow Morwenna’s orders and dig up the graves but such was her power that he had no choice.  The grisly task was unpleasant enough but when the decomposing bodies were uncovered the smell almost knocked him from his feet.  When she had been satisfied that they were all males, and none of them was Gaius she had allowed them to move on, towards Brocauum.

The settlement was stockaded but a small party of protected women did not warrant a rigorous inspection. The men at the gate merely checked what weapons Aodh carried.  When Morwenna came next to them they almost shrank from her gaze. There was no hostility in her eyes, merely a power and a knowledge which made men quake. “Who is the leader here?”

The authoritative voice brooked no dissention and the men volunteered the information readily.  “It is Colla, “and they pointed up the main avenue to the largest building; a rectangular building partly made with stone.

The small party rode on. Aodh noticed that there were more rectangular buildings here that in other Brigante villages.  The Roman influence was clear to see. He worried that a love of Roman buildings might also reflect a friendly disposition towards the Romans. As they dismounted he saw that the two acolytes had not followed them but ridden to another hut some distance away. Aodh had learned never to question; he would discover where they had been later, if Morwenna chose to tell him.

An imposing warrior came to the door, taller than Aodh and with a decorated helmet.  As he looked closer Aodh saw that he had been imposing but his waist was bulging and his jowls showed that he liked a drink. “I am Colla, headman of this town who are you?”

Morwenna did not speak but walked closer to him and said, very quietly, “Do you discuss all business on the steps of your home? When you have made us welcome then we will talk.”

His guards slipped their hands towards their swords for their chief was not spoken to in this manner, especially by a woman. Aodh did not move, he merely smiled. Morwenna did not need his protection, yet. Her eyes flashed a glare at the men who shrank back. “I am forgetting myself please enter.” Colla’s voice was humbler and he half bowed as Morwenna entered.

When they were seated Morwenna scanned the men before her. There was obviously some sort of meeting taking place and Aodh noticed that some of the men looked unhappy that it had been interrupted especially as the interruption was from a woman. When Morwenna felt that the silence had gone on long enough she stood looking, to all who saw her, as a regal figure. “I am Morwenna, daughter of the last heir to the Brigante crown, Aed and his wife, the sorceress Fainch.” There was an audible intake of breath. The lie about wife could not be disproved. She waited and then held her hand out. Aodh knew his role in this drama and he took out the golden torc and placed it reverently into her waiting hand. “This is the royal torc of the Brigante and I wear it now as a symbol of the power and lineage which is rightfully mine.”

As soon as she placed it around her neck Aodh dropped to his knees. The warriors and Colla looked at each other in a confused manner. Some started to half bend and then seeing their peers still standing, straightened their backs. Morwenna nodded as though she had expected some dissension of this sort.

Colla gave a half cough and said, almost apologetically, “We see the torc but it takes more than a piece of gold to prove you are the rightful heir. We know of the sorceress Fainch. What sign have you that she was your mother?”

Morwenna took the jet raven from beneath her white shift and displayed it below the shining torc. To Aodh it seemed that the white shift seemed to glow and it affected some of the warriors who did drop to their knees.

One angry looking warrior stepped forward. “I am Ownie and I fought with Aed. It will take more than a piece of black stone and a golden ring to make me drop to my knees.”

Morwenna stepped towards the haughty warrior, her eyes never leaving his. Even though she was smaller than the powerfully built warrior she seemed to grow in stature the closer she came to him and he seemed to shrink. When she was very close to him she hissed, “I am Morwenna. My father was Aed and my mother was Fainch. Do not doubt my power Ownie the Brigante for if I become as angry as you then all will see my true power.”

He held her gaze for but a moment and then dropped to his knees. As soon as he did the rest fell to their knees. Suddenly the room was filled with the women of the town who also dropped to their knees their chanting becoming more audible with each chant, “Mother, Mother, Mother!” Finally they all raised their arms and gave a shout of “Mother!”

The men looked around in shock and Aodh finally saw the two acolytes behind the women. Morwenna had left nothing to chance, her women had worked their own wondrous magic and ensured that Morwenna would have the support of the wives of the elders.

She sat down and Colla found his voice again,”What is it you would have us do Queen Morwenna?”

“The time has come for us to throw off the shackles of this Roman yoke.  The Caledonii raid you with impunity and there is no protection. Soon they will be followed by the Selgovae and the Votadini.  The Irish will come from across the seas and steal your children. We are the Brigante and the Carvetii. We ruled this land from far to the north all the way to the mighty rivers in the south, even to the borders of holy Mona.  Why can we not be powerful again?”

“What of the Sword of Cartimandua?” A quiet warrior who had kept to the back spoke up. “If we had the sword, as in the days before the Romans came, then all would fall before us.  We have been a beaten people since the sword was taken by the Romans.”

“I know,” her voice was hard and cold, “but the sword has been lost.  I will find the sword and I will wield it but we must rise up quickly for the Romans are weak now and are busy defending the north from the privations of the Caledonii. While they are weak with few soldiers let us rise up and take back that which was stolen from us.”

The quiet warrior nodded.  “You are right Queen Morwenna for I have seen the empty forts.  I, Parthalan, will follow you but hear this mighty Queen, without the sword we cannot win.”

Others looked at the quiet warrior whose voice carried such power. “He is right.  We must find the sword.”

“Yes Colla and we will. But the sword is no longer close by.”

“How do you know?”

Her eyes flashed dangerously and Colla shrank a little. “I am the Romans worst nightmare for not only am I Queen but I am the sorceress who can see beyond the hills, who can see into men’s hearts and bring the power of the Mother against the invader.  The sword has travelled north but it will return south and when it does it will be mine and we will use it to finally rid us of these Roman overlords.”

Satisfied Colla said, “What would you have us do?”

“Begin to train our warriors.  Send out riders for the other chiefs to come here. By the new moon we will be ready and we will put Cataractonium and Eboracum to the sword.”

Every voice was raised in a cheer for they all felt the power of her words and believed in the darkness of her magic.  Even Aodh was impressed.  Lulach and Calgathus were powerful speakers but this young woman had more power in a look than they had in their armies.

Lulach and his father embraced. It was many months since he had been north of the Bodotria and Lulach could see that his father had aged.  The grey now covered his head like winter snow and he looked a little thinner as though he was being eaten from within. “You have done well my son.” Even his voice showed the signs of age. “Warriors have told me of the captives and treasure you have amassed and the Romans you have slaughtered.”

“We did not kill as many Romans as I would have wished but this was but a trial.  We have learned how to defeat them without losing many warriors.  We have learned their weaknesses and where they are vulnerable.”

“Where are the captives for I see you have come with just your guards?”

This was the reason Lulach had come back. He had a difficult speech to make and he hoped that his father would understand.  The deterioration in his father gave him hope. “I intend, father, to build a new stronghold north of the Clota. The Selgovae see me as their leader and, with the warriors I have amassed I can build a bigger kingdom in the west than we have in the east.” Lulach watched his father to see if he detected any anger but there appeared to be none.

His father stroked his grey beard. “Do you do this to create Lulach’s kingdom or do you still serve Calgathus and the Caledonii?”

Lulach dropped to his knees. “King Calgathus I serve only you and the people of Caledonia. By making the west as strong as the east we make all our people safer.  When we have defeated the Romans I will go across the waters to the Irish and punish them for their raids on our lands and we will add to the land of the Caledonii, the land of King Calgathus.”

“That is good my son for I have grieved for the lost ones taken by those pirates. You have my blessing but we will need those warriors you took for your raids.” Lulach looked up sharply. “We are weaker now because of the losses.  If the Votadini or those raiders from across the eastern seas come we will not be able to defend our people.”

Lulach knew then that his father might be greyer but he had not lost any of his acumen.  By reclaiming his warriors he was making Lulach rely on his new allies and keeping his own army stronger. “Very well father when I return to my new lands I will send your warriors back to defend this land.”

Prefect Julius Demetrius had withdrawn his depleted ala to Morbium. “You see Salvius we have not replaced mounts and we have had no recruits.  I believe we need to reorganise the ala. We do no have enough troopers for twelve turmae.”

Decurion Princeps Cilo shook his head, “Nor do we have enough Decurions. I think we can muster eight turmae.”

“I agree. You can command four and I will take the other four. When they are remounted and re-equipped we will patrol again.  You can take the east and I will take the west.”

“It leaves Morbium and the road south vulnerable Prefect.”

“I know but until the new Governor travels north and reorganises the garrisons we are helpless.”

“I cannot understand it.  We sent the news of the raids weeks ago.”