Hosker, G [Sword of Cartimandua 12] Roman Wall (12 page)

Severus and the Lady Flavia’s guards provided Briac with the opportunity to train and he and his oathsworn soon impressed the Roman with their skills. “I am more hopeful now. If you can control your warrior’s tendency to charge at anything Roman we might just succeed.”

“That is the way of my warriors I am afraid.”

“Then they will suffer the same fate. I am a Roman and we know how to win.  Your warriors are brave but they fight for themselves.  The Romans fight for each other.  Yet I spy a kind of hope. Your weapons are now the equal of the Romans and we can use the extra length of your swords and height of your warriors to our advantage.”

“How?”

“The legions like to close and fight toe to toe. They form a solid line of warriors. Your men can use the full swing of their swords and not come close to the gladii. We will show you. They move slower than your men do. We can use your skills to your advantage.  Your people have been fighting the Romans the Roman way.  All of the tribes can benefit from my ideas.”

“And why do you do this?  Why do you betray your people?”

“For the money!”

And so Briac learned how to fight the Romans.  He would have to impose his will on his warriors but, like Severus, he saw hope where there was despair.

By riding hard Rufius made the island shortly before dark. Close by was an oppidum but it looked to be uninhabited.  It had such a strong location that Rufius wondered why it had no garrison.  He would investigate that after he had visited the island.

He tied his horse in a stand of trees and made his way to the sand dunes.  It was still light enough to see the island. He saw a knoll with a wooden stockade at the top of it.  A path ran circuitously around the slope. It would be a hard place to attack. He could not see any of the local tribes managing it. Having seen the buildings he concentrated on identifying the people. He did not see any armed sentries but he was below the level of the walls.  He counted four women and seven men. By then it became too dark to see.

He returned to his horse and faced a dilemma.  Where would he spend the night? He looked down the coast and saw that the oppidum was still in darkness. He mounted and rode south. He would investigate the fort and, perhaps, spend the night there. There was no moon but the trail he had followed was obstacle free. He dismounted some two hundred paces from the fort.  He could see that it was like the one at Mercaut; it was sited on a natural feature. There was a wooden stockade but he could see that the sea protected three sides and the fourth had a twisting path leading to it. Drawing his sword he made his way across the damp sand.  He could not smell wood smoke nor could he detect the smell of man.  All that filled his nostrils was the smell of the sea and seaweed.

He moved through the dark like a fox. When he reached the causeway he paused to listen for any sounds.  The only thing he heard was the sound of the sea sloshing on the rocks. He darted through the open gate; that, in itself, told him that it was empty.  A cursory examination confirmed it and he returned to bring his horse. 

He found a well and a water trough filled with rainwater. Once he and his horse had drunk their fill he allowed his horse to graze on the grass in the middle of the huts.  The length of grass told him no one had been here for some time.  The roofs of the huts were all sound and he made himself comfortable and, after eating some apples, he fell asleep.

The screaming which awoke him was that of birds and not danger. His horse, well trained beast that it was, still nibbled the grass.  Rufius threw some water on his face and ate the last of his apples. He climbed the wooden ladder to the top of the guard tower and looked north towards Mercaut. To his amazement he saw a causeway linking it to the land.  That explained the defences. It was too far away to be able to make out the people but he decided to trust to the thistle token and the headman.  He would pretend to be on his way north and seek food. It would be no lie for he was hungry enough to eat seaweed.

He rode along the beach rather than the road.  His horse was able to open his legs and gallop through the surf.  Cato, who had been the horse master of the ala, had sworn that running in sea water strengthened a horse’s legs.  He slowed down as he approached the causeway.  He could see that the tide was coming in and soon the causeway would be sea once more. He rode to the edge and was debating what to do when a woman of eighteen or so appeared at the island end of the causeway.

“Can we help you, sir?”

“I have ridden far and seek food and shelter.” He held up his purse, “I can pay.”

“Come then but come quickly or you will be swimming.”

Rufius urged his horse into the water.  The gallop through the surf had freed him from fear and he plunged up to his haunches.  By the time he was half way across Rufius was afraid that he would, indeed, have to swim but then the ground began to shelve and the water remained around his waist.

The woman laughed as he dismounted.  His lower half was soaking wet. “You barely made it, sir.  I am Mavourna and my father is lord of this island.”

“I am Rufius and I am travelling to meet King Ardal.”

A frown passed across her face briefly.  Then she smiled.  “Do you know the king?”

He shook my head, “No, but the headman at Am Beal thought he might have employment for me.”

He led his horse towards the cluster of buildings which nestled at the foot of the knoll. She looked at this ruggedly handsome man.  She had few opportunities to see anyone who did not have a greybeard. “You are a warrior then?”

“I have been a warrior but now I am a trader in jet.”

Her eyes lit up.  “Have you some with you?  I am sure we could trade.”

Rufius was glad that he had retained a purse of the precious black gold. “I have.”

They were a hundred paces from the huts and a cluster of men had emerged. “I have to tell you, sir, that my father does not take kindly to strangers. Be patient and leave your sword sheathed.  It would be best for all.”

“I will, I promise, and if this will cause trouble then I will return to the mainland.”

She laughed, “Then I hope that you and your horse are good swimmers.” She pointed behind and they were an island again.

An old man came towards them.  He had white hair and a white beard, his back was crooked and yet there was a defiant look in his eyes. “Who is this intruder?”

Mavourna sighed, “He is no intruder, father.  I invited him over.  He is a jet trader and he will pay for his food.” Her eyes implored compliance and I nodded.

“Aye well we have little enough but if you were invited then I reckon I will make you welcome. I am Ban son of Ban who was the last true king of the Votadini.”

Rufius nodded although his mind was a maelstrom of thoughts. “And I am Rufius of the Atrebate.”

“They are a tribe from the south eh? And you have a Roman name.”

Both were jabbed at Rufius in an accusatory tone. “Er yes sir, the Atrebate people live in the land close to Camulodunum and I was given a Roman name when I served with the Roman auxiliaries.”

The answers seemed to satisfy the old man. “You can leave your horse here,” he chuckled, “he canna go anywhere until the tide goes out.”

They climbed the twisting path.  Despite his age and obvious infirmity the old man climbed it unaided. The rest of the inhabitants all went about their jobs. There was a large hall within the walls of the fort.  It was rectangular rather than round. They entered and Ban son of Ban slumped down in a chair. “Mead!”

A slave, identified by a yoke, rushed in and gave him a horn of the honeyed drink popular in the area.  He swallowed it down, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and said, “Sit down.  Sit down. Well what have you to trade for your food?”

Rufius noticed that the horn Ban used was well worn.  He reached into his satchel and took out a pair of the horns he had traded for at Am Beal. “Will these do sir?”

Before he could answer the woman grabbed them.  “These are more than enough payment.” Her tone and her look shamed the old man into nodding his agreement.

Rufius then took out a particularly fine piece of jet and proffered it to her. “And this is for you, my lady, for your kindness.” He had no idea what had prompted his action but he was pleased he had for she beamed, kissed his hand and fled with the jet.

Ban smiled for the first time, “That was kind, sir, and you must forgive my bad temper.  Put it down to aching bones and a wish to be young again.” He gestured to the door through which his daughter had gone.  “We do not get many visitors here and I forget that she might be lonely.”

Rufius nodded, “Was not, Ban, a king in this land at the time of the invasion by the Romans?”

“Mead!”

The question appeared to have angered the old man.  The slave scurried in, refilled the horn and fled in fear. “Aye, but that was before my father’s time.  My father should have been king but that usurper Lugubelenus stole the throne from him and now Ardal has stolen it from me.” His sharp eyes suddenly stared at Rufius. “How do you know of Ban the old king?”

Rufius smiled, “My grandfather met a Ban who was at the court of King Prasutagus.  He told me the story although the way he told it the Ban who visited King Prasutagus was a king.”

Ban’s faced relaxed, “Ah King Prasutagus. He was kinsman to my father.  Had he not died and his tribe not revolted who knows what might have been different.”

The mood was lightened and the evening proved to be a pleasant one.  Rufius was convinced that he had found the right place.  He had no idea if the treasure was still here but he could return to the Legate with more information than he could have expected. The Ban he sought had been this man’s father. 

Chapter 9

Livius and the ala did not reach Cilurnum until the first, early snows had fallen. They were weary and their horses were exhausted. Whilst the troopers stabled their horses Livius reported to the Legate.

“We visited every settlement along the Dunum and all the way to the west coast.  We found some arms, not many but enough to suggest that someone is supplying the Brigante with high quality weapons.”

“That is disturbing news.  Would you say you discouraged them from rebelling?”

Livius shook his head. He knew the Legate too well to give a flattering lie. “No, Legate, short of digging up every village and hanging a few headmen it is hard to see what else could have been done. Their hearts and minds have been won already.  We are the enemy.  Even Marcus and the Sword of Cartimandua appeared to have little effect.”

Julius Demetrius suddenly looked his age. “Would that I had some good news to impart to you but I fear there is precious little.  The VI
^th
has finally departed for Eboracum. That should mean that the land south of the Dunum is safe but we are now in greater danger. The little good news is that we have two new auxiliary units on the wall. The 1
^st
Aelia Dacorum, a double strength cohort, has arrived and is now stationed at Vercovicium and the 1
^st
Batavorum cohort is to be based at Luguvalium.  They are a mixed cohort.  We have more cavalry now.”

“Well that is a relief.  We will need remounts from Nanna soon. I would not like to send the ala out on patrol any time soon.”

“And the Quartermaster acquired those spears you wanted.  Training can begin straight away.”

“Well that is good news.” Livius stretched.  “It will be good to sleep in my own bed again. If that is all, sir?” He stood.

“Yes, Livius you and the ala have done well.  Rest.”

As he turned to go Livius said, “And I will give some thought to that box from my uncle.  I confess it has preyed upon my mind.”

Julius guiltily looked down.  “Er, Livius, I er, well the fact of the matter is that I took it upon myself to investigate the matter.”

A brief flash of anger appeared on the Prefect’s face before he composed himself. “Sir?”

“Sit down, please.” As Livius seated himself Julius began. “I sent Rufius to find out if he could find this Ban. He found his son and he believes that the treasure is on an island called Mercaut about two or three days’ ride north of here.”

Livius felt a mixture of relief and apprehension. “I think I hoped that it had disappeared. I worry that we are opening Pandora’s box.  We know not what the consequences might be.”

“True but if we hold the box then at least we are in control.”

“You wish me to retrieve the treasure then?”

Julius sighed, command was never easy and he knew he was going to upset his old friend. “I wish your men to retrieve the treasure.”

“But sir!”

The Legate held up his hand. “You and the Decurion Princeps will be needed here to train the men with the new spears and to prepare for what I believe will be a bloody spring. I want you to send Rufius and Marcus north to this island.  Rufius has already made contact with Ban’s son and I believe he will be able to successfully complete the task.”

Livius could not fault the Legate’s argument but this had been a family matter.  He wondered how it might have turned out if he had not opened the letter in the Legate’s office.  “Why two turmae? Marcus and his men have just had a gruelling few weeks away.”

“I know. Give them a few days and they will recover enough. I am sending two because I want to give them a cover.  This will look as though we are probing north.  I have no doubt that there are Brigante spies all around us.  It will allay the fears of the Brigante. I do not want them to know that we are aware of their plans. I want them to believe that their apparent innocence has fooled us.”

“Have you informed the Governor?”

“I have but he is new and he is too busy making his palace more comfortable.  Besides his intelligence reports suggest that the Brigante are pacified. Even your evidence of a few swords and spears will not convince him.  I fear the frontier forces are on their own. The VI
^th
has been ordered to stay in Eboracum.  By the time we can deploy them the rebellion will have started. At least they will be in a position to prevent it.”