Hosker, G [Sword of Cartimandua 01] The Sword of Cartimandua (17 page)

BOOK: Hosker, G [Sword of Cartimandua 01] The Sword of Cartimandua
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“So you are not going to tell me that the governor intends to attack Venutius before the festival of Eostre?”

Gods! The woman had other spies. “No it is news which cost me dear to acquire.”  He paused significantly.

“On with it Roman. Don’t stand there licking your greasy chops.”

“I know you know that there are legionaries coming from Lindum but you do not know that Bolanus has sent for another legion from Rome.” Her silence told him that this was news indeed.  “Is not that information worth gold and, perhaps, the little favour I asked?”

“Here is some gold but the rest and the, er favour, will have to wait until I have the information confirmed.”

So did have other informants. Cresens determined to keep his ears open. “Thank you for this. I will return next week.”

“As a small favour I would not send for any supplies for the next week.  They may not arrive.”

The quartermaster looked in surprise. There would be an attack on the supply routes. The soldier in him wondered why and the thief in him was already plotting how to profit from that news.

 

Saenius Augustinius gnawed nervously on a fingernail. The new governor was not making his life easier. The fool appeared to go along with the Brigante bitch in all she said and did. Even now her quarters were being improved and her guards increasing by the day. He was rarely consulted on anything remotely important. He could see his military career ending ignominiously and he would have to slink back to Rome a failure. This was, as his father had told him, his best chance for glory; the primitive warriors of Britannia were no match for the Roman legions and he had pictured himself returning with the laurel leaves of a victor. What was even worse was the lack of respect he had from the barbarian cavalry. The prefect Flavinius Bellatoris paid lip service to him and the only respect he had was to his office and not to him.  He seethed and blamed that one eyed barbarian Ulpius; he had chosen to disregard him and he had the backing of the Queen.  He had thought that by promoting him he would ensure his loyalty and he would do as he wanted. The decurion princeps had not done so. The Queen also seemed to regard him as something unpleasant into which she had stepped. Would that they were both dead! He had tried to engineer Ulpius’ demise by constant patrols but he seemed to thrive on the action.  His only pleasure came from the fact that he was keeping him from the whore’s bed and that gave him pleasure.

He finished writing his weekly report and stood to peer into the camp. It was a desolate place now that the leaves had left the trees and the cold was biting into his bones. He pondered wrapping his bearskin around his shoulders but he knew it would be colder later on. Across the camp he noticed the quartermaster watching him. The tribune knew of some of the illicit deals the man made but he chose to ignore them as he benefited sometime. Perhaps he could use this obvious criminal to his own ends.  He signalled him over.

Cresens wondered why the tribune needed him.  He had been of service to the patrician on a number of occasions, normally involving women and twice with boys. Perhaps the tribune needed servicing.

“Come in quartermaster.  Sit.” He leaned forward put his hands together and peered at the ex-soldier over the tips of his fingers.  His eyes were sharp and watched for any reaction from the corpulent Cresens. “How is your new position working out then, “he paused trying to remember the fat old cavalryman’s name, “ Gaius? How are you enjoying being a quartermaster?”

“It is an honour sir although if truth be told I would still prefer to command the ala.”

Saenius smiled at the thought of this fat man sitting astride a horse but he hid the smile behind his hands. “Ah yes it is a shame that we no longer have a Roman as decurion princeps but still Ulpius Felix is a brave warrior is he not?”

“He has brave men with him but I find it interesting that others die and others are wounded and yet the man who leads them always comes back without a scratch.”

The tribune now knew what he had suspected, there was no love lost between the two men and he could use that to his advantage. “Perhaps you may have something there.”

Emboldened by this apparent support Cresens continued. “There are rumours about the decurion princeps and the queen.”

“Are there? Well I think there are rumours about many things in this camp but, “he paused significantly and lowered his hands, “if you should hear anything of a more solid nature I am sure you would tell me first would you not?”

Gaius’ face lit up, he had an ally, “Of course, of course.  I will keep you informed of anything which would be of interest to yourself and Rome.” He paused. “Has the tribune noticed that the Queen is becoming larger?”

“Well good food.”

“One of her servants hinted that she is, well she is with child!”

“Don’t be absurd. She is too old.” Even as he said it the tribune wondered if that were true. It would explain much.  It would also give him more power as knowledge was power.

“Good. Well thank you for your time and he added significantly for the information. You will not lose by my friendship.” With a wave the quartermaster was dismissed but he left not feeling rejected but accepted. His star was on the rise and he was already calculating how to profit from this new liaison.

So the longer nights and shorter days drifted into a similar pattern. The queen grew larger, the patrols increasingly fraught as fodder and food diminished and the buildings grew apace. It was in the depths of winter, when the nights were the longest and the weather the coldest that the change came. Even the tribune had to accept that the patrols were no longer relevant and besides the first ships had arrived at Eboracum with fresh supplies of wine, olives and delicacies such as the Romans had not seen for months. The governor called a three day holiday with just the guards on the camp walls and the slaves working.

Cresens took the opportunity to visit with Fainch. Although she would have known about the lull in activity he thought he might be able to get something for his information. According to his slaves this was the local festival of Yule; perhaps she would be more forthcoming with her favours. He had only been in her hut for moments when that hope was dashed. “Have you brought information fat one or are you here to lose your manhood?”

“I bring news that there is a holiday for three days and no patrols.”

“Is that all? I too knew that.” In truth she did not know how many days nor did she know that the patrols had ceased but she did not want to give away too much.

“And there is boat arrived from Ostia. It brings many luxuries from home.”

Surprisingly that information seemed to interest the witch. “There will be feasting?

“There will be much for the Romans will celebrate Saturnalia.”

“Do you still wish for the poison to rid yourself of Ulpius?”

His face lit up with malice and mischief. “Yes, give me give!”

She tantalisingly held out a phial. You may have it provided,” she dropped her voice; “the Queen and the Governor also die!”

The quartermaster’s face went ashen. To kill the decurion princeps was one thing but to risk the governor was quite another. “You are mad! I would be discovered!”

“Think you cowardly lump! Have they not brought rich delicacies from Rome? Have they not brought spices and sweetmeats which will mask flavours? It will be easy. The queen and the governor will have the choicest of foods all you need is someone to put the potion in their food. “The one eyed barbarian you hate, he could also die, “she shrugged, “I am sure it could be hidden in his wine.”

He chewed his lip nervously.  The witch was right, this was the perfect opportunity.  If he timed it right he could be safe from blame; as quartermaster he had access to all the foods as they arrived.  He knew which ones would be chosen by the governor.  His only problem was ensuring that his ally, the tribune did not eat the same food. “Give. I will do as you bid.” He would not use the wine for he was not sure that they would all drink it.  He needed to find another means.

“When they are dead there will be more gold for you.”

This was proving to be an excellent meeting. Ulpius would be gone and he would be richer, perhaps rich enough to return to Rome.

Chapter 10

The queen’s quarters Eboracum

Lenta smiled when Macha volunteered to pass a message from the queen to Ulpius; it was not the first time that she had done so.  Lenta was pleased for her sister, she knew that she and the soldier Marcus had an understanding and as a woman who had known a man Lenta wanted her sister to enjoy the same joy. Macha, for her part, felt Lenta’s eyes on her back but she felt not shame but secret delight that she would pass by the Roman she believed she loved. She would never know until he held her, until he caressed her, until he kissed her and yes, until he took her. She also felt the eyes of all the soldiers in the camp appraising her and imagining themselves with her. Her position as the queen’s sister ensured that no one would dare make a comment or a gesture but she knew they were watching her.  She hoped that Marcus would be near to Ulpius so that she could snatch a few moments with him.

Her heart lifted when she saw him in conversation with Drusus outside the decurion princeps’s quarters. She coloured a little when she saw the grin on Drusus’ face and the reddening face of the man she loved.

“Lady,” Marcus and Drusus both bowed their heads.

“I have a message for the decurion princeps.” It was as though he had been awaiting the message for Ulpius strode out.

“Yes my lady? What is the message?”

“The Queen wishes to discuss the training of her bodyguards.”

Ulpius wiped the grins off the faces of his subordinates with a glare of his eye. “Marcus check sick roll.” Hearing the laugh from Drusus he added, “Drusus, make sure the horses have had their quarters cleaned.” As he strode off to his lover’s chambers Ulpius couldn’t help grinning at the discomfort of all three young people. It was good that Macha and Marcus had found each other.  He could not believe that he had found love so late in life. He did not care if people knew but he preferred to keep it a secret for the dignity of the queen.

Left alone Marcus and Macha were at a momentary loss until Macha said, “Could I help you with the roll?”

“That would be, yes thank you kindly lady.”

In truth checking the sick roll was a quick job, as Ulpius had known and it was finished far too quickly for the two would be lovers. Macha felt obliged to fill the silence as Marcus had shown in previous meetings that he was tongue tied in the presence of women. “Are you looking forward to Yule?”

“Yule?  I am sorry we do not celebrate at this season. We just hunker down until the days lengthen.”

“As we do but we make sure that feast.  We light a fire that burns until the days lengthen and we eat all the foods we have saved from the harvest.  That is why we were so happy when your ships began to arrive for now we have the spices we need to make the food taste so good. We cut green leaves and put them in our homes and we guard our homes from evil with the magic white berries. Then we drink the brews from the harvest, sing songs and tell stories.”

Marcus laughed.  “We have a similar festival, we call it Saturnalia but we drink more than we eat. Yule sounds a better way to celebrate.  I look forward to my first Yule. Does everyone celebrate together?”

Macha’s face darkened a little.  “When we had our own home and hall yes, all our people came together but here our quarters are so small that we could only host ten or twelve people.” Her eyes twinkled when she added, “Perhaps my sister will invite Ulpius and some of his senior officers.”When Marcus coloured and grinned like a child Macha laughed out loud. “Your face my love can be read like the stars.”

“Your love, you mean  ...”

Macha was torn; half of her was upset that she had told him first that she loved him and the other was joyous that it was in the open.  Before she could say anything Marcus had thrown his arms around her and kissed her passionately on the lips. Any outrage at the impertinence was soon replaced by a magical thrill which coursed through her body. When they came apart they stood staring deep into each other’s eyes. “I think you have your answer and I have mine but,” she cautioned, “as with my sister we must keep it secret. At least for now.” She leaned forward and gave him a quick peck. “And now my love I should go.  I do not want to but I must.”

In the queen’s quarters the warrior who would soon be a father was gently stroking the queen’s hair as she lay with her head in his lap. “How is the child?”

“As restless as a young colt.  He will be a warrior. It will not be long now my love.”

“What will your people say when he is born?”

“What they will say is long live the prince what they think will be a little different but I am queen. Whatever I do is right by my people. You can see from the warriors joining us now that they tire of Venutius and the Carvetii.  Soon we will be able to join with your Roman army and defeat him.”

“That will be easier said than done my love.  I saw his stronghold at Brocavum.  It will take at least a legion to storm that and the land before it is inhospitable and barren of food and shelter.  With only two alae we would struggle to protect our lines.”

“Did you visit the land further west?” Ulpius shook his head. “It is very fertile it is a land of water, hills and woods. The grass there would provide rich fodder for your horses.  There are many lakes and it is close to the western sea. If you had a fort there you could supply it from the sea which is but a day’s ride from there. We do not have ships amongst the Brigante but I know that you Romans can use the sea as a road. ”

Ulpius laughed a deep laugh. “You truly are a warrior and a general.  Other women talk of children and clothes but you my love can talk of war and talk wisely of war. I will mention this to the prefect.  When the days become longer I will take my ala.

Marcus Bolanus was holding a meeting with the tribune.  Much as he disliked the tribune he knew that he would have to work with him until he had appointed tribunes of his own. The last thing he wanted was a debacle like the Scapula campaign against the Silures which had resulted in the only defeat of a legion in these lands. He would have to tread carefully until the Emperor despatched another legion to help the ninth subdue the north.

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