Hosker, G [Sword of Cartimandua 11] Roman Treachery (3 page)

Appius knew that he had to make himself an invaluable asset if he were to succeed in his plan to gain power. Although finding servants was not the task he had anticipated it would enable him to gain power over someone close to the Governor’s wife and that was not a bad thing. He headed for the forum; it was not as vibrant and bustling as the ones in Rome, or even in the southern half of the province, it did, at least, provide a place for the well to do to gather, talk and impress each other with their latest acquisitions; bath house, tutor, the list was endless. There were already merchants and their families gathered.  Their Roman dress marked them out quite clearly as did the fact that the men, especially, looked uncomfortable in the newly acquired garb. He waited in the corner to observe them for a while. He identified at least four young women who looked as though they might be suitable; they certainly met the presentable category.  The literate side was one he would have to gauge through conversation. He also noted the men for these would be the ones with money and power in this frontier region; they too would be worthy of his attention.

He took a deep breath and put on his most engaging smile. He stepped into the main area and was most pleased when the conversation dropped a little as they inspected this well dressed stranger.  The purple stripe on his toga told all but the most ignorant that this man had senatorial connections. Appius knew that he was good looking and was not surprised when both the matrons and the young ladies appraised him approvingly. He approached the family with the two most likely looking young ladies. “My apologies domina, for interrupting your conversation, but I am new in Eboracum having travelled from Rome with the new Governor. I am Appius Serjanus.”

The portly gentleman who was the head of the family puffed himself up. He looked to Appius like a farmer who has made a little money and calls himself a merchant.  He could almost see the dirt beneath his finger nails. “Delighted to meet you.  I am Publius Bibula and this is my wife, Aula Bibula.” Appius nodded to the wife who looked as fond of her food as her husband.  She simpered and Appius assumed that she thought she was being coquettish.

“And who are these lovely young ladies domina?  Your sisters?”

Aula Bibula giggled and her layers of fat shook in a most alarming manner. “Why no, this is my daughter Tita Bibula and her friend Vibia Dives.”

“Delighted to meet with you.” He took their hands and kissed the back of them.  Tita, was like her mother and giggled although, happily, without the rippling layers of fat.  Vibia, in contrast, coolly met his stare with her own chillingly attractive look. “As I am new in the city I wondered if you might help me.  The wife of the Governor is seeking two young ladies to help her settle in and to provide intelligent company for her.  Do you know of any young ladies who might be willing to provide such service?  There would, of course, be remuneration.”

Aula shook her head. “I am afraid we could not consider letting Tita work as a servant, of any description.  But Vibia is I believe seeking a position.”If Vibia took those words as an insult she did not show it but merely carried on smiling like an enigmatic Sphinx.

Appius noticed that Tita did not agree with her mother but that Vibia did not look displeased. “I would be pleased to aid you Appius Serjanus and I believe that I know of another, Lucia Scaura.” Her voice had a seductive quality to and Appius could tell from her grammar that she was well brought up. She leaned in to speak more confidentially to him, “She has travelled from the southern part of the province and she has fallen on hard times.”

Appius nodded, as though he cared, “How sad.  If you could come to the Governor’s residence later in the day then I will introduce you to Governor Nepos and his wife, the Lady Flavia.  Of course the selection of the successful candidates will be up to the Lady Flavia.”

“Of course.”

“Could I ask if you can read and write?”

Vibia gave a smile which could have been contemptuous but quickly became engaging, “Of course and I can speak and read Greek.  Not that one has much opportunity here.”

Appius could see that he had at least one potential servant and companion of a very high standard.  Even if this Lucia was not as qualified it would not matter.  “I look forward to speaking with you later on.  Until this afternoon.”

As he left he saw the look of hatred Tita gave to her mother. Although she had not provided a servant she might provide a bed companion.  Appius resented paying for whores and Tita looked as though she might be willing to satisfy his needs.  Eboracum was looking better by the moment.

Chapter 2

Marcus stood in Livius’ office. “Now take no chances.  I know the Legate asked for prisoners but I do not want to lose either you or Gnaeus. It will be his first patrol as decurion and he may try to impress you.”

Marcus laughed.  “He feels so guilty about almost losing his commander the other year that he will probably ensure that we all come back.” He became more serious for, like his prefect, Marcus cared about all the troopers.  They had had few casualties in the last couple of years and they both intended it to stay that way. “The only dangerous part of this, sir, is that we will be further from the wall and have a longer journey home.  I intend to leave two turmae half way back as reinforcements should we need them. I promise you I will take no chances.”

As they headed north through the gates in the wall Marcus hoped that the Selgovae were watching at the gap.  It mattered little for this was just one of their regular patrols.  He would take his four turmae north, into the huge forests and then swing to the east.  The Votadini lived closer to the coast and felt largely safe from Roman incursions.  He would have more chance of capturing a prisoner there. The eight spare horses they took with them were a normal precaution against accidents and injuries but this time they would be needed to transport the prisoners. Gnaeus rode next to him as they traversed the forest trails.  Two of the better scouts were ranging far ahead to give them early warning of danger and it meant that Marcus could give Gnaeus advice on his new role.

“I know that you can command Gnaeus, it is why I recommended you for promotion but you will need to be able to take independent command.  When I leave you with Titus and the Third Turma you will have to make the decision about the right time to return to Rocky Point.”

“What do you mean return?  You will be back will you not?”

“Hopefully I will but anything can happen and that is why I leave you in command.  Titus has also been recently promoted but you and I have ridden together many years and I know you. That is what I mean when I say you are in command; it is a heavy burden you bear.”

Gnaeus chewed on his lip; he did not like the thought of abandoning his leader again.  “Which settlement will you try?”

“When we have crossed the old northern road I will try the village of Tad. They are prosperous there and, as I recall, they are close to the Votadini royal family.  We need those who have knowledge of those with power at this moment.  It is my intention to wait for dusk; we will then have the night to return to you.”

“Where do you intend to leave us?”

“The old fort on the road; it is still defensible and yet you can remain hidden.  If we are not retuned in two days then inform the prefect of my failure.” He saw the terrified look on the young decurion’s face. “I will return but my orders have to be quite clear Gnaeus.”

Gnaeus did not look convinced but Marcus was his senior and he would obey albeit reluctantly. The fort had seen much action both during its lifetime as a northern outpost and since it had been abandoned. Many auxiliaries’ bones lay beneath the sods and shrubs surrounding the burnt out and decaying wooden fort.  Their sacrifice had been in vain for they had, inevitably been pushed back, despite all the efforts of the soldiers who fought for Rome.  Marcus looked towards the north west remembering when he and his step brother had defended the eagle of the Ninth as the legion was finally eliminated as a fighting force.  The survivors and Macro and Marcus had left the field with their heads held high for they took with them their eagle and left the field in good order. It was that memory which put steel into Marcus’ resolve.  He had lost many good comrades in that retreat and he owed it to them to help to hold on to the land they still owned.

After leaving Gnaeus and Titus at the fort, Marcus set off on his patrol with Publius. He was not a new decurion but he still looked up to Marcus who still carried the Sword of Cartimandua. The legendary blade had become an icon and symbol of luck.  It was said that the first Roman to carry it, Ulpius Felix had been named Felix because he was lucky.  That luck and good fortune still continued and Marcus knew that many men secretly touched the blade for luck before combat.  He was not sure if it did them any good but he knew that, like his father before him, the blade gave him an edge in any combat. He realised that Livius would prefer the blade were left at home where men would not try to defend it to the last but Marcus would not dream of taking the field without it.

As the sun passed its zenith Marcus halted the turmae.  They found a wood in the next valley to the settlement. Marcus chose the ten troopers he would take with him. They were from both turmae and they had been chosen for their ability to remain hidden.  They took off their helmets and left their shields and javelins with Publius. Their cloaks would help them to escape observation but Marcus longed for the green cloaks and brown clothes he had worn as an Explorate.  Those days were long gone. “We will be back by dawn.  If we have not returned by noon, then return to Gnaeus.  We may have to leave in a hurry be prepared to cover our withdrawal.”

The ten man patrol trotted off up the ridge.  They dismounted just below the crest so that Marcus could belly up and spy out the land.  He had been taught well by Gaelwyn, his mother’s uncle and he sought every piece of cover he could.  He peered from under the bush and saw the trail leading to the settlement some mile and a half away. He found what he was looking for, a wooded area through which the path to the settlement passed.  He rolled back down the slope and, detailing two troopers to watch their horses he led the others over the ridge and down to the woods.  It was now a case of waiting and hoping to catch hunters as they returned, laden with game to their home. If there were none, then they would have to lie up overnight and catch early morning travellers.

The pheasants gave them warning of the approaching hunters as they flew noisily into the air. Using hand signals only, Marcus dispersed his men. They knew what they had to do.  Four of them had cudgels and rope to bind their prisoners.  They were, hopefully, far enough away from the village for any noise to bring help for they were now far to the north of the wall and safety. Soon they heard the Votadini voices as they approached the woods.  The hunters had had a good hunt and there were no enemies this close to their stockaded settlement.  They were relaxed.  Marcus breathed a sigh of relief as he saw that there were only six men. The one at the front would be a leader and he needed to be captured.  The four men in the middle carried the dead deer and that left the one at the rear to deal with.  Marcus nodded to the trooper next to him who bore the cudgel; at the same time he jammed the wooden branch at the man’s feet making him stumble.  As soon as he did so two of the troopers at the rear stabbed the Votadini rearguard and then the rest fell upon the last four. It was a noisy scuffle but the Votadini were tired and unprepared.  All five were trussed, gagged and bound before the last warrior had expired.

“Quickly! Back to the horses.” Marcus allowed his men to run up the hillside to the ridge while he watched for any other hunters returning to their village- there were none. The men were still unconscious when they were tied on the backs of the spare horses.

Publius watched the sun begin to dip behind him.  Now the waiting would seem interminable; every sound would be magnified and every broken branch would be a barbarian with murderous intent. It was a relieved decurion who saw the line of troopers ride towards them. He turned to two of his troopers. “Ride ahead of us and make sure the trail is clear.” As Marcus and his men donned their helmets and gathered their weapons Publius checked that the men were secure. “That was easy enough sir.”

“Yes indeed Publius, now we have the hard part.  Get them though the enemy lines.”

“Bear killer!” Iucher smiled as his old friend used the name he had first adopted as a warrior.

“Yes Colm. What is it?”

“Are you sure we can trust these Selgovae.  My father still tells of the time they betrayed our king when we were close to capturing their eagle.”

“Times change old friend and we must join together to fight our common enemy. Perhaps when the eagle has left this land we can once again fight the Selgovae.” The two war chiefs were leading their hundreds close to the wall to begin their attacks on the auxiliaries.  As they strode down the Roman road, neither man marked the irony of using the Roman’s own road to fight them. It would take them another day to reach the land close to the Roman edifice and they would have left the road long before that. 

Suddenly, one of the scouts came running back with something in his hand. He ran to Iucher who was his leader.  “Horses.  Roman horses.” In his hand he held a piece of horse dung, still warm.  It could be seen to be Roman from the grain within; Roman horses were well fed.  “There were more than fifty of them and they were heading east.”

Colm rolled the manure around in his hand. “Fifty may be just a patrol.”

“Or it could be a raid.  We will wait here for a while.  It will do no harm to rest and, if we can capture some Romans then so much the better.”

Marcus led the two turmae towards the fort.  They had journeyed further south than their outward route in case they had been followed and it was for that reason that they escaped a total disaster.  The last four Votadini scouts heard and then saw the Roman horses approach.  One of them ran back to Iucher while the others watched.  Marcus’s horse, Hercules, had a sensitive nose and, smelling the barbarians, gave a whinny.  Marcus knew what it meant. “Barbarians! To arms! Gallop!” His well trained men needed no urging and their horses leapt forwards.  They were riding in a column of fours with the captives towards the front.  The last two lines of Romans came under attack from the scouts and the Votadini as Iucher brought them to join the fray. What the barbarians lacked in skill and finesse they made up for with exuberance.  They hurled themselves at the troopers, throwing spears, daggers, and loosing arrows in an attempt to bring them down.  Three of the troopers fell to the enemy whilst a fourth had a spear lodge in his back.  He kept his saddle and the riders galloped along and down the road. The horses of the dead troopers kept on galloping and it was only when they reached the deserted fort that they discovered their casualties. The two turmae who were waiting for them spread out behind them to watch for any pursuit. While the wounded man was dealt with Marcus rode back to see if he could see his lost troopers; the ala did not like to leave their men on the field.  From the saddles of the dead men’s horses he could read the tale and the blood which cove red both animal and sheepskin were eloquent.