Hosker, G [Sword of Cartimandua 11] Roman Treachery (23 page)

The Camp Prefect glared at the Tungrian Prefect who squirmed uncomfortably in his seat.  Before anyone could say anything the legate held up his hand.  “I want to draw a line under last night and the tragic events.  On the positive side we now know who the spy is. On the negative side some brave soldiers died unnecessarily but we need to pull together gentlemen.  The hostages are no longer in our custody and that means Iucher will be back and this time he will mean business. His son was a surety against bad behaviour and we no longer have that surety.  He will come at us like an angry bear whose cubs have been attacked. I have sent for another cohort of auxiliaries from Eboracum.  When they arrive the Tungrians will go to the site of the new fort we are going to build, Vercovicium.  They will help the Sixth to build it and then they will be stationed there, on the wall itself.”

The Tungrian prefect leapt to his feet, “Are we being punished for the traitor then? That seems very unfair.” He glared at Livius.

“Sit down! “roared the legate. The prefect subsided but still showed his anger in his expression.  “You are being sent there because you are a full cohort and this fort was always intended to be the base for the ala. The new fort will be your base.  The ala will police itself until we receive more sentries now any more outbursts and you, prefect, will be on your way back to Rome! Do I make myself clear?”

The close friendship of Emperor Hadrian and the legate was well known and the prefect murmured a contrite, “Yes sir, sorry sir.”

“And the other reason you are being sent there is because we need to reinforce that part of the wall.  With the Selgovae and the Votadini united, it is only a matter of time before they decide to attack and I assume your men would like to get a little revenge eh prefect?” His tone modified like a parent who has chastised a child and now seeks to mollify it.

“Yes sir.”

Scaeva had never been to the Votadini camp but he had spoken with the troopers who had and he knew the route to take to reach it through the dense forests of the north.  He hoped that any tribesmen he met would capture him first.  He hoped that they would not just kill him out of hand before he could tell them who he was. He looked Roman, but he also looked like a deserter and, although few men deserted to the Votadini, he was counting on the fact that they might want to question him first. He was but five hundred paces into the Votadini forest when they appeared from nowhere with sharp swords pricking his neck.

“I am Brigante, with Briac.” He blurted the words out as quickly as he could and prayed that they knew who Briac was.  Fortunately one of them had heard of the Brigante and he was taken at sword point to the camp which now had a ring of scouts a mile from the perimeter.  The Votadini had learned their lesson. When he entered the camp there was a murmur of hostility as his uniform was recognised.  Scaeva wondered if their anger was too great for them to question him.  Two huge warriors raced forwards to grab his arms and the Brigante began to fear for his life.  Suddenly he heard a voice say, “It is him, father.  That is the man who saved us and helped us to escape the Romans.”

“Release him for this man is a hero.  He saved the son of Iucher and we will honour him.” The mood changed in an instant and the men who had been threatening to kill him now embraced him like a long lost brother.  Through the crowd Scaeva saw Briac approaching and his chief nodded his approval.  They had lost a spy but they had gained a powerful alliance.

The feasting went on long into the night and Scaeva, along with most of the other men of the tribe passed out at the double celebration. Had the Romans known it would have been a good night for a raid; with one blow the Votadini threat could have been eliminated. When he rose and had bathed in the icy stream he joined Briac.  “You have done well my brother.”

“But I am no longer in the enemy camp.”

Briac gave a sly smile, “It would have been difficult to pass messages and this is a better outcome.  You are acclaimed a great warrior and the Votadini are now more than our allies, they are our blood brothers and that means we have more power.  The chief wishes to speak with us later this morning. Prepare yourself.”

When Scaeva met the chief he was presented with a finely wrought torc and given an arm bracelet in the shape of a serpent. The chief put his arm around his shoulder.  “From this day forth, this man is a brother of the Votadini and a brother to me!” The tribe roared their approval.  “And now, brother, my chiefs and I would like you to tell us how to defeat them men with whom you fought.”

The chiefs all looked eager and expectant and Scaeva knew that his words, truth though they were, would disappoint them.”There are many ways to fight the Romans.  You have been fighting them for many years.” The chiefs punched and laughed with each other.  “And you have been losing!” The joy and euphoria left their faces as he poured cold water on them. “You attack their forts.  Tell me Chief Iucher, who loses more men when you attack the Romans you or the soldiers?”

“We do! But my warriors die bravely.”

“The Romans have more men than you can possibly imagine.  This is but one part of their Empire and they are rich.  They can bring their soldiers from fart off places you cannot even imagine. Their weapons are stronger and they have armour; the same armour which stops your weapons from hurting them.” He could see that didn’t believe his words. “Have you any of the bodies of the Romans?”

One of the bodyguards said, “Aye we have.”

“Go and bring it here with his armour, his shield and his helmet.”

He had aroused their curiosity and they watched as the Roman trooper, badly mutilated was dressed and armed. “Place him against that tree.” When the dead man was placed next to the tree Scaeva strapped the shield so that it covered his body.  As he looked at the dead man he saw that it was Appius Nero a trooper with whom he had drunk in Eboracum. It did not bother him at all.

“You have bows?” Two men came forwards with bows. “I assume you are both good archers.“ They nodded proudly. “And you have killed many men?” They nodded again, “Good.” He paced out fifty paces. “Now stand here and kill this Roman again.”

They confidently picked out a good arrow, checked that it was true and took aim. The first arrow struck the shield and the Votadini roared. The second man aimed a little higher and the arrow pinged off the helmet to spiral into the sky.  The first man looked proud of himself. “See a dead Roman again!” He and his friends thought that that was hilarious.

Scaeva walked up to the corpse and removed the shield. The arrow had penetrated the shield only.  He showed it to them. “I am sorry, the Roman lives still.”

He replaced the shield and told them to choose another arrow. This time he paced out twenty paces only.  “Aim for the shield again!”

The two men did as asked and this time the tribe could see that the arrows had penetrated further.  The two bowmen were not as confident this time. He took the two of them and they peered over the top of the shield. The faces of the archers fell like stones. Scaeva turned the scutum around so that the tribe could see.  The arrows had penetrated the shield but had been stopped by the mail.

“And this man is a horse warrior.  He has a smaller shield than the legionaries.”

One of the archers asked, “Then we cannot kill them with bows?”

“Oh yes, you can kill them with bows and with slings but you need to be more accurate.” He adjusted the corpse again. “This time aim for the face.” They both went back the twenty paces and there was a crunch of decaying flesh and bone as one arrow penetrated the dead trooper’s face.  The second arrow struck the cheek guard and became embedded in the tree. There was a desultory cheer.  The arrow had been so close that almost all of them could have made the shot.

“Bring me a javelin.” The intrigued tribesmen brought a javelin they had retained. “You two men stand where did for the first attempts.” They did so. “Do not move, I will not hit you!” There was a gasp as he released the missile and it fell five paces short of the men.  “And that is how far they can throw their weapons; more if they are on a horse.”

The tribesmen all applauded the deserter.  They admired skill and the soldier had shown them that he possessed great skills. Iucher clapped him on the back. “Thank you Scaeva for the demonstration but how do we defeat them?”

“You cannot beat them man for man, no matter how good a warrior you are.  They are well armed and armoured.  Two to one you can.” He took out his dagger and pointed to his body when he named the vulnerable parts. “Here,” he pointed at his calf, “and here, the hamstring, here, under the arm pit and finally, “he drew the pugeo across his throat, “here.” To get close you need to be cunning and lay ambushes and traps. When the Romans are building they cannot defend themselves and they have no shields.  Loose your arrows at them and when they follow you then you set an ambush. When they bring supplies then you hide and attack the supplies.  Without supplies they cannot build and, more importantly they go hungry and then they are unhappy.” He pointed at Briac, “When my chief stopped their wagons the garrison at Cilurnum became unhappy and an unhappy man does not fight well. You have limited men, the Romans do not.  If you die in equal numbers then they will win.  You need to kill more of them than they kill of you and, as you have found out their forts are deadly.” He gestured to Iucher’s son. “When you escaped from the fort was it easy?”

The youth said, “No, they have traps in the pits but we could take our time and avoid them.”

“No one was trying to throw a spear into him.  Leave the forts and leave the walls.  Defeat the Romans and they will have to leave.”

Iucher nodded,” We will now talk more.  I will meet with Randal and tell him of your words.” He turned to his waiting, expectant warriors,“ Until the time is right, practise with the slings and arrows.” He pointed at the dead Roman. “There is one target and there are others, use them. I am glad that you are no longer a spy, Scaeva, for you have brought us the key to unlocking this wall.”

Appius was dirty and angry by the time he rode through the gates of Eboracum.  His anger had become worse on the journey south as every comment and slight was blown out of proportion in his mind until, by the time he crossed the river, he felt that he had been totally betrayed. The Governor had been receiving the reports from the wall and he too was now alarmed.  When Appius strode into his office, his face was as red and angry as when he had left the wall Aulus Nepos wondered if the wall itself had been breached.

“That legate is an impossible man and I was treated like a traitor by those, those, plebeians!”

“Calm down Appius and tell me what has happened.  And tell me calmly,” his tone grew sharper; “I do not deserve invective from you, do I?”

Realising that he could not afford to bite the hand which fed him, he apologised, ”Sorry Governor.” He then explained all that had happened to him.  Even as he told the story he began to see that he had blown it out of proportion but the Governor became worried by the implications, if not the events.

“So the barbarians are attempting to thwart the Emperor’s plans eh? There is a cohort of the Eight Augusta at Lindum.  I will send for them and we can finish the wall that bit quicker. I think you and I will have to make another visit north to ensure that our plans are thoroughly carried out and, of course, we can bring back Vibia when we return. How is she by the way?”

Appius smiled at the memory of her, “Oh she is fine and appears untroubled.”

“And was she…” he left the obvious question unsaid.  Flavia and Lucia were terrified at the thought of her being molested.

“No, no,“ Appius shuddered at the thought, the turma rescued her within a day of her arrival and brought her back safely.”

“Well that is one thing anyway.  Rest and bathe today.  I will see the decurion and we will travel with an escort of regular cavalry tomorrow.”

“And I will arm myself too. I am not going to be a civilian this time. I will show them how a patrician fights.”

Once the Tungrians had left the fort there was a calmer air and, now that the traitor had been found, there was a more harmonious atmosphere in the cavalry outpost.  This only developed after Livius had called the ala together to point out that one traitorous Brigante did not mean they were all to be mistrusted.  Troopers like Aneurin and Scanlan had begun to stay together in cliques, afraid to mix with the others. It was a better time for all.

For Gnaeus, the absence of Appius meant he could hover around Vibia like a bee around honey and he took every opportunity to draw her out and speak with her.  For Vibia’s part she found the young man attractive but then the others such as Aneurin, Scanlan and Vibius also attracted her attention.

Metellus spoke to Livius about the situation.  “The sooner she is gone the better.  At the moment it is just harmless showing off and posing from our young troopers but I would hate it to become more serious and result in bloodshed.”

“I agree but we cannot afford to send her back yet. When reinforcements arrive we will send a turma back for we will need more horses soon.”

They had suffered more equine casualties lately and their reserve herd was dwindling. “I will send a letter to my wife then.  She will need to get the new mounts broken in.” Metellus noticed that the prefect was distracted, “Was there something else sir?”

“Yes, I do not like this quiet. Once they got their hostages back I expected an onslaught with heavier raids and attacks but, if anything they have been quieter. It is not like the tribes.”

“No I agree.  I was going to suggest a large sweep of the area north of the wall.  Pairs of turma to see what the tribes are up to. We just need to keep two in reserve.”

“Good idea.  See to it.”

That evening Aula’s children met briefly to see what opportunities they had had so far. “We have not had the opportunity to visit the place by the river to find the gold. “

“And until a better opportunity presents itself the prefect is safe. I will endeavour to ensnare him.”

“I do have this!” In the open hand lay a distinctive Votadini dagger. It had been taken from the battlefield with other weapons after the ala had defeated the war bands.  Many of the soldiers on the walls had such souvenirs but it gave them a chance to kill Livius and blame it on someone else.