Hosker, G [Sword of Cartimandua 05] Revolt of the Red Witch (22 page)

One warrior, braver than the rest, had ventured, “How do you know?”

Turning her fierce green eyes and even fiercer look she had said menacingly, “I am Morwenna servant of the Mother and a sorceress with immense and limitless power. I know all that there is to know and I see with the all-seeing eyes of the Sisters!” After that no one had ventured a word. The outspoken warrior shrank back attempting to become invisible having risked the wrath of the Queen.

So it was that when the rain began to hurl its icy barbs and the wild wind whipped up the sea sending droplets of savage salt encrusted spray over the sand dunes that the troopers retreated, gratefully, into their tents, and leaving a skeletal team of guards to watch for any enemy foolish and brave enough to challenge the elements. “I tell you Cassius this country has the strangest climate of any I have ever visited.  One day bright sunshine and the next, a day like this where one cannot see a hand in front of your face.”

“At least we know that they will not be going anywhere today.”

His misplaced confidence was shattered when the two guards on the gate to their camp fell, struck by arrows.  “Alarm!” The well trained turmae reacted quickly and men rushed from their tents to get to the ramparts.  They could see little but there, just off the beach was a fleet of ten ships and each contained archers who were firing arrows blindly in the air; those same arrows were falling with the rain striking men and horses. They did not need to aim for the camp was a small target and, plunging down were almost bound to find vulnerable gaps in armour.

“Sir look!” The trooper attracted Julius’ attention and there, in the dunes, was another warband racing towards them. Julius could see that he was outnumbered and surrounded.  He reminded himself that they were a scouting force not a punitive one.  “Sound retreat!”

Each trooper grabbed his weapons and mounted his horse.  Those who were wounded were manhandled on to horses and the dead left where they lay.  The turmae raced out of the Porta Decumana at the gallop with Cassius and Julius the last to leave. They rode hard for a mile, their heads down and their horses whipped. They stopped amidst the low marshy ground close to the Dunum estuary. The wild birds screaming as their quiet desolate sanctuary was disturbed by the unwelcome men and horses.  “Where did that come from? And how did they know we were there?”

“We were over confident Cassius.  I should have realised that we could not hide ourselves as close as that to the enemy without them being aware of our presence but what concerns me is why attack us at that moment and why in such small numbers.  Had they wanted to destroy us they could have surrounded us and killed us all for they had total surprise.” He shook his head in appreciation. “It was a stroke of genius to attack from the sea and the dunes at the same time.  No Cassius, there is some clever, well thought out plan here.  This Morwenna is as cunning as her mother.” He pondered for a moment or two and then decided. “We rest for a while and then tonight we return and we will spy out the settlement. Let us see what they are about.”

The Brigante and their allies had destroyed the camp and desecrated the handful of bodies that they had found. While Cassius arranged the burial of the slain men Julius led the rest of his troopers to check the vicinity for any ambushes and signs of the enemy.  When they returned to Cassius the bodies had been buried and the grim faced men waited for their orders. “They think we have gone back to Morbium with our tails between our legs.  They do not know Marcus’ Horse.“ The smiles on his men’s faces told him that they were still eager to fight.  “We will do what they do not expect we will go and pay them a visit, perhaps give them a taste of a raid in the dark.”

Leaving their horses with four horse holders the two turmae crept through the woods to the stockaded Seton. Two guards lounged by the locked gates and they could see no guards on the walls.  Inside they could hear the noise of a celebration and firelight flickered and gave a glow to the buildings within. Nodding to the two scouts Julius watched as they covered the ground towards the two unsuspecting guards.  The noise from inside helped to mask any noise they might have made and Julius could see from the beakers by their feet that they had been celebrating the defeat of Marcus’ Horse. The two guards made not a sound as their throats were slit and they were dragged away. The troopers ran swiftly and quietly to the walls.  In groups of three, two men boosted a third over the ramparts. Within moments the gate had been opened and the turmae entered. There was no-one before them. All eyes inside were focussed on the huge fire burning in the middle a carcass being rotated by two half drunk men. Around a huge fire which spat sparks high into the sky and coughed and spluttered noisily the warriors were sat drinking heavily and singing, celebrating their great victory over the vaunted Roman cavalry.

Julius turned to Cassius, “These are just the men who attacked us today.” Cassius looked at his, confused.  “There should be ten times the number! The rest have gone.” Tell your men to fire the buildings on this side and then bring the horses.  We will pay them back a little for their attack on us” As Cassius gave his orders Julius led his men closer to the fire. He pointed to the bows the men carried and they all notched an arrow; their targets were obvious.  There were so many warriors around the fire that any arrows sent in their direction would have found their mark.  Julius glanced over his shoulder and when he saw the first flicker of fire from Cassius’ fire starters, dropped his hand.  The arrows flew towards the conflagration and the mass of men drunkenly cavorting on its periphery.  He dropped his arm a second time and, even as the volley flew, led his men as quickly as they out of the village. Their horses were waiting and they mounted swiftly.  The enraged warriors of Seton charged towards them eager to wreak revenge for the slain men and the burning buildings, a volley of arrows and javelins halted them like a slap in the face and Julius saw, with some satisfaction, the whole town burning from within and without. There would be no pursuit from the dazed and half drunken warriors for they were too busy putting the fire out.

“Back to our camp but in the morrow we need to find where Morwenna has gone.  It does not bode well for she is an evil woman with a mind as intricate as a bag full of venomous snakes.”

They left before dawn and headed west.  As Julius had said to Cassius, “If it had been south we would have seen them and there are rocks to the north.  If we cut west we may pick up their trail.”

Once they found the main trail and saw that it headed west by north he despatched a trooper with a message for the Legate.  “When you return look for us in the north west of here.”

Cassius looked at the wide trampled area before them; the overnight rain had made it a muddy morass. “You were right Sir.  They must have emptied the settlement for look at how wide the trail is.”

“Worrying Cassius for the Votadini are barely pacified.  If she gets their aid then we will need all of the legions again.”

It was just before midday when the shout came from the rear.  “Riders approaching.”

Julius was surprised to see his own messenger riding with a trooper from Livius’ turma. “Did you get lost Metellus or did you miss us?”

Sheepishly grinning Julius’ messenger said, “No Sir but I met the Decurion Princeps’ messenger and thought that his message may have a bearing on mine.”

“Good thinking lad. Here give me the Decurion Princeps’ message.” He quickly read it, “Well Cassius some good news at last.  It looks like the rebels in the west have largely given up.  Certainly, from his report the Decurion Princeps has the situation under control and can handle them. Return to the Decurion Cilo and tell him to continue to patrol around Brocauum until he hears from me.  Tell him we have found Morwenna and she is heading from here towards north west and he may need to watch for her.” As the tired messenger rode away Julius finished adding his note on his message to the Legate.” Metellus impress upon the Legate that the danger is here with Morwenna and he should send up reinforcements to Morbium as soon as possible.

Chapter 14

Morwenna used nature to make her arrival even more impressive than it was with an army of two thousand well armed warriors behind her.  She timed it so that, as the sun was setting in the west it lit up her face and body.  The pure white shift and the white horse seemed to glow like fire and her already red hair seemed to burn like a magical bush.  Although the gates were barred she rode up to them without a trace of fear or hesitation.  “I am Queen Morwenna of the Brigante and I am here to help my Carvetii brothers and sisters throw off this Roman yoke.” The river rushed beneath the bridge and the gate giving the only sound to disturb the tense stand off.

Behind her Aodh, Ownie and the other leaders waited with bated breath. They were well armed and armoured having pillaged Roman bodies and armouries for the best.  Their armour glistened and shone in the dying embers of the sun.  They were a golden army.  It was such an audacious move and so reliant on two young girls that even the ever confident Aodh began to ease his sword from its scabbard. Morwenna half turned and flashed a fearsome look.  “Do not begin to doubt now.  You will not need your sword.” Reluctantly he returned his sword to its scabbard and silence reigned once more.

From behind the gates they could hear raised voices and suddenly the more strident and higher pitched female voices became more dominant. Without warning the huge doors swung open and Maban and Anchorat stood there with a group of triumphant looking women and some red faced men. As they entered through the gate and across the bridge Morwenna half turned to Aodh and said quietly, “You need not doubt my powers for the Mother is with us.”

In that moment both Ownie and Aodh realised that this phenomenon was getting bigger than they had ever envisaged.  Now she was winning battles without weapons, at least not weapons which they understood and gaining recruits almost without trying.  She was more than a woman, she was a seer who appeared to have an insight into the hidden world of the gods and that was truly terrifying to mere warriors.

The boat seemed to take an age to cover the smallest distance.  None of the occupants of the boat, apart from Gaelwyn and the old man, appeared to be able to come to terms with what had happened. “He was indestructible.”

“No Gaius, no man is indestructible.  He was a brave and worthy warrior but the Allfather gives us all a weakness.  For Macro it was never knowing when to withdraw, always believing that he would win.”

“But he nearly did win, “said Marcus quietly. “If they had not used arrows then he would have defeated them all.”

Gaelwyn laughed.  “What a noble idea! Whoever their chief was he did what you would have done when you were a leader Marcus, he used the best tools to get the result.  It is not a game with a set of rules. You know Tribune that you do whatever you can to win. Had Macro known that he would have lived for he would have sought safety sooner.”

The three boys had long ago fallen asleep.”I wish they had not witnessed this death Gaius.”

“No I am glad.”

“But why Gaelwyn?”

“What better lesson could they have?  No matter how good a warrior you are eventually there will be too many foes for you to face. Had Macro had that lesson he might have left before it was impossible and lived?  Think on that.”

“You are quiet Marcus.”

“I am thinking that I have lived too long.  Gaius you are the last of my comrades, all the others, Ulpius, Decius, Drusus, Lentius, Metellus and now Macro have all died.  I have seen enough of death.”

There was a silence broken only by the slapping of the ropes and the water breaking at the bow. Occasionally a gull would hawk its lonely cry but apart from that it was a silent world. The old man steering the ship spoke quietly and thoughtfully, weighing each word for its worth and value. “It seems to me that how we live and how we treat those that we live with is a measure the Allfather uses.  We know not when our time will come. Your friend’s time was chosen for him.  His son will miss him and you will miss him but the Allfather and the Parcae decided it was his time. I have lived long, my wife and sons are dead, my daughter is dead, my grandchildren are dead but I am still alive.  Perhaps the Allfather kept me alive so that I might help you.  Who knows how they throw the bones and play their games? Tribune do not bemoan your life.  The Allfather has not done with you yet and he has, perhaps, something else he needs you to do.  When it is your time he will take you.”

Gaelwyn nodded and then lay down in the bottom of the boat.  “Wise words old man. Wake me when we land.”

“For me the sea is the place I want to spend my last days. It is the place where I find the most peace. I enjoy the solitude for it allows me to think and reflect.  I am able to remember all those who I knew, my family, my friends, even my enemies,the Caledonii who stole or killed my people.  I have lived long enough.  This has been my last adventure.  I w ill go back to the village and the young men will ask me of the sea and the world.  I will tell tall tales  and I will raise rabbits.” He shook his head as though to clear a memory, his eyes suddenly bright and clear.  “You did not say where you wished to land Tribune.”

“No I did not, did I? Somewhere near the Land of the Lakes for then we could purchase horses and travel home by the shortest route.”

“I know a place where we can land but winter grows closer. You will need to move swiftly if you are to avoid an icy death on the mountain tops.”

Smiling wryly, for the rest were asleep Marcus said, “If the Allfather wills it old man…”

“Tribune he wills all. Now sleep and we will be there ere long.”

When Legate Camillus received the reports from the Prefect he almost, audibly, breathed a sigh of relief. The cohort of the Ninth had done half the job and stopped the privations of the rebels towards the vulnerable south and the actions of the ala had forced, apparently, the rebels north of the Dunum. He turned to the Camp Prefect.  “How go the repairs on the fortress?”