Hosker, G [Sword of Cartimandua 11] Roman Treachery (2 page)

BOOK: Hosker, G [Sword of Cartimandua 11] Roman Treachery
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“Ah Legate, come to give us a hand?”

Julius dismounted, “One of the few privileges of being a Legate and being a man of my years is that I get to watch young men like yourself working.”

First Spear Broccus snorted, “You, old? Don’t make me laugh.  You can still keep up with some of these useless lumps of donkey shit here.” The legionaries grinned at the insult.

“Is the patrol back yet?”

“No, not yet.  They have been gone for just over a week and Marcus said that it would be a ten day jaunt.”

“How is he?”

Quintus stopped working to drink from the water skin hung on his spear. “He seems to have recovered, but he is a deep one.”

Decurion Marcus Gaius Aurelius had been captured by slavers a coupe of years earlier and had barely escaped with his newly acquired and heavily pregnant wife.  The raiders had come to extract revenge and almost captured and killed his mother.  Thanks to a rescued slave, Drugi, they had defeated the slavers but, as Julius knew, that always had an effect on a man’s mind.  The birth of his son, Macro, seemed to have given him a better perspective and, knowing that the man he rescued, Drugi, was watching over his family, helped.

“So long as he doesn’t have the death wish his step brother had then I shall be happy. The prefect seems satisfied but he is at Corio and Marcus spends more time across the border than he does here.” Livius had known Marcus since had had been a boy and felt quite close to him as he had his father, Gaius.

Just then a sentry cried, “Stand to! Riders!”

Although riders normally meant Romans, here on the frontier it was more sensible to wait until you knew for certain.  The barbarians had used captured armour and horses before now to make surprise attacks on unsuspecting auxiliaries.

Quintus peered north, “Stand down.  It is our lads. Well, Legate, you can find out for yourself now.” The horsemen were obviously Roman with their distinctive oval shields and spears, their red cloaks and, in this particular turma’s case, the wolf standard following the decurion.

Marcus had grown up in the last five years and not just physically. The loss of Macro, his step brother had been a grievous blow following on, as it did, the death of his father.  The enslavement had been a cathartic time for him as he learned to begin to discover how to live again.  Alone and an ocean away from home he had had to rely on his skills as a warrior and his inner strength as a man. The slave woman Frann had helped him and, with the birth of his son, Macro, he had finally gained an inner peace. Promoted to decurion he was now, increasingly, taking on more of the role formerly performed by the prefect at Rocky Point. The poor prefect was embroiled in the logistics of moving from Coriosopitum to their new fort. Many of the comrades of both men had died in the recent conflicts and both Marcus and Livius knew that it would only be a matter of time before Livius retired and began to enjoy the fruits of his labours but the threat was still there north of the wall and it was Marcus’ task to discourage the increasingly frequent raids.

“Hail Legate.”

“Hail Marcus.” Julius could not help but glance at the four turmae to look for empty saddles.  He could see there were none. “Successful patrol then?”

“Chosen Man Gnaeus, take the turmae back to Rocky Point while I brief the Legate.” Gnaeus threw him a quizzical look. “I think I am safe here Gnaeus and besides we have these cavalrymen from the Sixth who can bring me home and tuck me up.” Gnaeus rode away shaking his head while the troopers laughed. “They are like old women, always watching over me.”

“They just don’t want to lose you again Marcus.  They felt guilty the last time.”

“I know.  I am just glad that the Prefect has decided to promote Gnaeus; it was like having a mother with me all over again. You couldn’t take a shit without him watching!”

“How was the patrol then?”

“We flushed a few warbands out.  Having over a hundred mounted men helps to control them although they have learned to climb the high crags where we cannot follow.” He shrugged. “At least if they are there then they cannot sabotage the wall but it is expensive on the horses.” He idly stroked his horse’s mane; the troopers were all very fond of their horses, many of them weeping like a child when they were injured.

“When are you out on patrol next?” Julius’ Demetrius keen eyes carefully examined Marcus’ face.

The Legate rarely asked superfluous questions and Marcus’ interest was piqued. “Why?  What have you in mind sir?”

“I think we need a prisoner or two to question. I hate just reacting to events.  I would like a little more information and the best way to get that information is to interrogate prisoners.”

“You need Explorates.”

“I know but you, Metellus, Rufius and the Prefect are the last of the Explorates we could count on and we would really need native speakers. Still, if you could find a prisoner or two…”

“I will be back on patrol in fourteen days.  That will give me the chance to check Julius’ maps.  He is very efficient at keeping them up to date.” Julius Longinus was the ala clerk and also an unpaid intelligence officer.  He had a sharp mind and kept immaculate records.  “I think we need to get close to one of their settlements.  The ones who are closer to us are wary warriors.  Closer to home they might feel safer.”

“Come on then, I will ride with you to Rocky Point.  I am supposed to be inspecting the defences after all.” First Spear Broccus had gone back to work. “I’ll be back along this way in a couple of days Quintus.”

He pointed towards the east. “Then we will be about fifty paces that way sir!” He absentmindedly clipped one of the legionaries who had turned at the words. “He was talking to me you horrible little man! Get on with it!”

Rocky Point was nearing the end of its life.  Built before the wall as a camp for the ala which protected the workers, it would soon be redundant.  The fort of Cilurnum was nearing completion and, already, the clerks and farriers had moved from Corio to Rocky Point ready for the grand move. The auxiliary ala would have its first permanent base.

“I shall miss Rocky Point sir.” The isolated wooden structure rose defiantly in the land which was still Selgovae and Marcus remembered the early days when the ala had been the only force keeping the barbarians away from the construction site of the wall. Many men had fallen defending its wooden walls and ditches.

“The new fort will have stone walls and a bath house Marcus.  It will be more comfortable.”

“True but I still think of this as a refuge.  Remember the time we barely made it escorting those refugees the barbarians had captured?”

“Don’t remind me. That was as close as I want to come to a Selgovae spear.”

As they descended the primitive track which led to the fort Julius could not help notice the keen eyed sentries.  This was not a safe posting; this was the edge of hell. Here the garrison was almost completely surrounded by the enemy.  It was another reason for the move.  When the wall finally reached this exposed northern ridge the fort that had been the cavalry’s home would be beyond the frontier.  The grim troopers faced death every day.

The first thing Julius noticed was that Livius now looked greyer and older.  The frontier took its toll on its defenders and Livius had performed that duty longer than most. When he greeted them and smiled at two old friends, his face looked far younger. Marcus was so close to him, as had been his father and his namesake that Livius felt this was the son he would never have.  His darkest times had been when he had been captured by Trygg, the Uite. Like Marcus he would be sorry to leave Rocky Point; it had been a bastion against the barbaric forces from the north.  They suffered attacks on a weekly basis but not one enemy had managed to breach the walls. It was a record of which the prefect was proud.

After greeting the Legate he asked Marcus. “Good patrol?”

“We lost no-one; it was a good patrol but we did not find any enemies. The Legate here wishes me to capture prisoners next time.”

Livius frowned.  It was his task to detail the missions but he accepted that he was outranked. “Rufius is out at the moment with his turmae; he may have more success.”

Marcus shook his head, “Sir, with respect, we defend first and think of prisoners second.  When I try to get one it will not be through war but stealth.”

“Stealth young Marcus? When were you ever stealthy?” The voice boomed from behind him. 

Marcus turned to see the Decurion Princeps approaching.  He had served under Metellus as an Explorate and had learned much from that most intelligent and thoughtful of officers. “Metellus! Good to hear you are still alive and your wife has not kept you south of the Dunum.” Metellus and his wife, Nanna, ran a horse stud close to the farm where Marcus’ mother still lived.

“Every time I am down there she nags me to stay home and it is tempting but, there is still so much to do and now that I am Decurion Princeps of the ala, I feel I have more responsibility. And how is you wife and your son?”

Marcus’ face lit up.  He would happily talk for hours about every slight change in his young son.  Livius watched the two married men and felt pangs of jealousy.  He would never enjoy a family life and he wondered if that was the curse of a prefect in the auxiliaries.  Marcus Maximunius, after whom the ala had been named had also never married; like Livius the ala was his family and the officers and troopers his children.  “So Legate we need prisoners…”

 

Far to the north of the wall, in the safety of the Selgovae stronghold, Briac the Brigante, Randal the Votadini and Iucher the Selgovae were in deep discussion. Since their first meeting the representatives of the three main tribes in the region had hammered out their plan to rid the region of the Romans.

“The gap between the two walls becomes narrower each day and soon it will be closed.” Iucher was becoming increasingly agitated.  He had not believed how swiftly the Romans could build from stone.  It was as though they defecated brick!

Briac smiled. “It matters not, for, when it is closed, I will be south of the wall and our plans will be in place. With our spy in the enemy ranks we will be able to communicate easily with you.  You will know exactly what the Romans intend as soon as they do.”

“Why have you not used this traitor before?” Randal was suspicious of the Brigante; old tribal differences were always just below the surface.

“He has only recently joined and it has taken time for him to become accepted.  Another problem is that, at the moment, he is not yet at the frontier but he will be. The Romans have a great need for warriors and they replace them frequently.  By the time I reach my home I will have made contact with him and arranged the signals we will use. Once I am home then we can begin to disrupt the Roman road. That is their weakness; they rely on the carts and the wagons which trundle up and down their stone ways. They cannot defend them all.  We will slow down their supplies and then your tribes can destroy them on the wall.  When they are weak then we will rise in the south and fall upon the garrisons.  It may not be soon for we need to build up our army but we will rise and they will be destroyed.”

Randal’s interest was piqued. “What will you do then?”

“We will capture their wagons and kill their drivers.  We will go into their forts and kill them while they sleep.  We will poison their food and all the time we will smile, as though we are the grateful dog who feeds from their scraps. When we rebelled before we were open and hostile and they knew who we were.  We live with those who love the Romans and we pretend that we love them too. How can they fight an enemy if they know not who the enemy is?”

Iucher nodded his approval.  “And now that we are at peace with our Votadini brothers we can strike at many places along the wall.” The two tribes had been mortal enemies until the Romans had come and now they had shelved their differences.  Together they would be a formidable foe

“We have learned that the ones who build the wall, the legions will not be based upon the wall but further away.  When the gap is closed it will not be the mighty legion you face but men from Gaul and other parts of the Empire.  Those warriors, brothers, are their weakness. The legionaries stand and fight in lines with mighty weapons throwing stones and huge arrows.  The others do not and we can beat them!”

 

The new Governor and his entourage finally arrived at Eboracum. His wife, Flavia was less than impressed with the frontier fortress.  Thanks to the Emperor’s Trajan and Hadrian it was stronger and had better accommodation than in the early years of its life but the wife of the Governor was used to a more luxurious lifestyle.  “And what of the slaves? Where do I acquire decent slaves who can converse with me and understand my needs?”

Aulus Nepos sighed.  His wife always felt that he lived below their station in life.  He doubted that the slaves in this part of the province would meet her high standards. “Perhaps, rather than slaves, we should hire well brought up citizens from the area.They could be your companions.  There must be some intelligent young ladies who would like to enjoy the life style of the fort.”

Flavia did not think for one moment that there would be any such citizens but, having seen and smelled the locals as they passed through the vicus, she knew that she did not want slaves. “I shall, of course, interview them and see if they meet my standard.”

“Without a doubt my dear and now I shall set in motion the plans with the officials and officers of the fort.  If you would care to inspect the quarters and make a list of any deficiencies then I will have them remedied rapidly.” He knew that there would be many deficiencies but money was not a problem.  He was, after all, Governor of the province of Britannia which had more potential riches than any other.  The wheat alone, when controlled and managed effectively , would mean that they would not have to totally rely on the Egyptian harvest. “Appius!”

“Sir?” Appius was never far from the Governor and he tried to anticipate his every wish.

“We need some servants for my wife. Two should do for the moment.  They should be literate and well presented.  There should be some families hereabouts who would want their daughters to associate with the Governor of Britannia and his family.  See to it.  I will be with the senior officers to find out about the state of the construction of the wall and its attendant defences.”

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