Hosker, G [Sword of Cartimandua 12] Roman Wall (13 page)

Livius had forgotten the box already; it was a minor consideration. “And how will we deal with the threat?”

“I intend to call a meeting of the Prefects of the auxiliary units along the wall. Now that we have two more I hope we can field two thousand men to meet this threat.”

“But the barbarians will have more men than that.”

“I know.  And that is another reason why you need to stay here. Your ala might be the difference between success and disaster.”

Caronwyn was also gathering together an alliance of leaders.  She had gathered the tribal representatives of many tribes. She had warriors and priests from the Selgovae, the Novontae, the Dumnonii and even a warrior from the Venicones.  The only tribe she had invited who was missing was the Votadini. She was being shunned by King Ardal.  It was a minor irritation.  She suspected it was because she still harboured Radha on the island. Caronwyn had hoped that the former Queen of the Votadini might have been able to draw in the young king but her gamble had failed. She was philosophical about it.  She still had enough warriors to flood the wall from both sides. When the leaders left her she was confident that by the third moon after Yule the frontier would be in flames. Severus had told them all how to defeat the Romans and each leader had been given fine weapons,

There had been a couple of minor irritations which danced around the back of her mind like summer flies you hear but cannot see.  Her Nemesis, Marcus’ Horse, had swept through the heartland of the Brigante and found some of the weapons. She now wondered if she had a spy within her camp and Pedair Briac’s cousin had reported the curious incident of the Roman north of the wall. It was a small thing but she could not understand its significance. What were Roman spies doing north of the wall? She knew that she would have to find out more before the fire could be ignited.

Marcus, Metellus and Rufius were summoned to the Prefect’s office a week after the return of the ala. Livius had insisted that the task of telling the young men what they were to do was his.  The Legate ruled the wall but Livius was still the Prefect of Marcus’ Horse.

When they were seated he began by telling them the story of the box. He told them of Rufius’ work and the conclusions they had drawn. Marcus and Metellus were fascinated while Rufius just listened.  He had not got the lovely Mavourna from his thoughts.

“I want two turmae to go to Mercaut and get the treasure.  Rufius, you will need this.” He handed him the ring. “This is the sign that you come from Prasutagus.”

Rufius examined the beautifully made ring.  Marcus asked, “Sir, why two turmae?  It will draw attention to us. Surely it would be better for a couple of men to sneak into their land and retrieve the treasure.”

“The Legate wants the Brigante to think that we are considering expansion north of the wall.  We are not.”

Rufius put the ring on the table, “Sir, what happens if the Votadini take exception to our presence?  Do we fight?”

“No.  We need no more enemies north of the wall.  The Votadini are quiet let us leave them that way. You will negotiate or you will back off.  Besides Traprain Law is far from Mercaut and with winter upon us the news would only reach King Ardal when you had completed the mission.”

Rufius took a deep breath, “And suppose Ban does not wish to hand over the box? We have no idea where it is save that it is probably on the island somewhere.”

There was a pause, “Persuade him.” Rufius knew that he had to get the box at whatever cost.

In Traprain Law King Ardal was listening to his advisers.  Some wished him to join the alliance led by the priestess of Manavia.  Others wished him to consolidate the new gains made against the Venicones. His younger brother, Banquo, however had other concerns. When the advisers and nobles had left them the young man gave voice to his thoughts.

“It seems to me, brother, that none of those is our priority.  We have held the crown for a short time. The evil Radha is hiding on Manavia and who knows what mischief she can cause. We should ask this Caronwyn to hand over Radha to us as payment for joining the rebellion. Then there is our uncle, Ban.  He squats still on his island and we both know that he resents the fact that we have power.”

King Ardal shook his head.  His brother was the cleverest man he knew. Yet he could not believe that old Uncle Ban would cause trouble.  “He has few men and he must be close to death.”

“Perhaps we can make him even closer.”

“I will not spill the blood of our family.”

“Then at least allow me to get assurances from him that he will not oppose us. I will have him swear an oath.”

King Ardal could not fault that.  He had been mildly irritated that his uncle had not attended the coronation.  Alone out of all the nobles, he had not sworn allegiance.  “Very well, but no violence. Ban may be cantankerous but he is a loyal Votadini.”

“And Radha?”

“I will consider your suggestion brother. It has merit.” Ardal was pleased to have his belligerent and ambitious brother away from court.  He offended too many people.

Banquo left, pleased that he had been tasked with something which suited his nature. Unlike his brother, Banquo was vindictive.  Mavourna had humiliated him by rejecting his advances some years earlier.  Now that he had power he would make her rue her decision. He would also enjoy humbling his uncle who had ever disparaged the two of them.  He and his oathsworn had spent many months preparing for war.  This would be a chance to put some of those skills to the test.

The two turmae slipped across the bridge over the Tinea when the late autumn rains were slicing down.  Almost all of the troopers had been born in Britannia and knew the vagaries of the weather but it was still a shock to the system. Marcus was amused when Rufius took out his hood and fastened it over his helmet.

“What in great Belenus’ name is that?”

“I was given it by the Votadini.  It keeps out the rain.”

Marcus cocked his head to one side. “It does not look good Rufius.”

He laughed, “When have I ever worried about how I look?”

“That is because you have no woman in your life.  Frann would not let me wear such a thing.”

“Perhaps that is one reason why I have never taken a wife.”

“Or because you are too old and set in your ways.”

“Now that is a good reason.”

Marcus nodded up the road, beyond the horizon. “This is new land for us.”

“Aye.  You know the land to the west; it is where you and Marco defended the eagle but this coast has remained unknown to us all.” He gestured towards the road where an unhappy Felix sat astride a pony with a suspicious Wolf trotting next to him. “I am hoping that Felix can become familiar with the land.  I barely left the road when I headed north.”

“Do we need to worry about attacks and ambushes?”

“I think not. I saw no sign of the Votadini and the last we heard they were busy with the Venicones. I feel we are too strong for the Selgovae bandits.” As they rode in silence, however, Rufius was worried that they might not be as welcome as he had been when he had been Rufius the jet merchant.  He would hate to have to show strength to Angus and those who had been kind to him.

They made better time than when Rufius had travelled with the merchants and they approached the town in late afternoon.  As he had expected the gates were closed on their approach. Leaving the chosen men with the turmae, Marcus and Rufius rode up to the gates.  The rain had abated somewhat and the hood was safely stowed.

Angus appeared on the gate and shouted, belligerently, “This is Votadini land.  What are Romans doing here?”

Rufius took off his helmet and proffered the thistle token.  “The last time I came here I came as a friend.”

“You! Then you came under false pretences.”

“No, I did not.  I do trade in jet.”

“And why are you here then.  You are trading war now!”

Rufius shook his head. “No, we are not. Rome conquered all of this land in the time of Agricola. The rebellion of Lugubelenus does not change that.  Rome is a forgiving mother.  When I told my superiors of the bandits my Legate asked me to patrol the old Roman Road to Alavna for the protection of all.  You have my word that we will not impose our will upon you.  The wall is there as a frontier only.  It is not a threat.”

Angus seemed somewhat mollified but he added, “We will judge you when you return. If there are heads upon your saddles and slaves in your wake then we will know that you lie.”

Rufius nodded, “Thank you, headman.” They led the column north.

Marcus looked back, “That was quick thinking back there.”

“You were an Explorate too.  You know that it is always wise to have a story ready to hand.” He waved Felix forward. “Felix we will head towards Alavna.  It is some miles to the north east. See if it is safe.”

Felix slipped his leg over the saddle and took off with Wolf like a startled hare. Marcus shook his head, “Why he prefers his own legs to a horse I will never know. Titus, come and get Felix’s mount.”

Alavna was on the Roman Road proper but it had long been abandoned.  The Roman auxiliaries who had built and defended these forts now huddled in their mile castles on the wall. Whilst the defences had been rendered useless by the soldiers before they left, they would, at least, afford some shelter.

It was dark when they reached the fort.  The glow of light showed them that Felix had examined the area and found it free from danger.  There would be the possibility of hot food.

As they sat around the fires, drying out their cloaks and warming themselves, Marcus asked Rufius of their plan of action.

“We will head for the oppidum I found.  We should reach it before dark and it will give us the opportunity to observe Mercaut. The headman may have sent word north about our presence and we will need to be careful.”

Banquo and his twenty oathsworn were heading in the opposite direction to the Romans.  He and his men were approaching the island. Banquo had not prepared well enough and the causeway was under water when they arrived.  His first quest as a leader was not going well and they were forced to camp in the dunes.  It was a cold and cheerless night.  It did nothing to improve the young man’s humour. He had forgotten about the tides.

The oathsworn of Banquo were all young men like himself.  They styled themselves The Bears.  Banquo had managed to get a set of bear claws and he wore them around his neck. He had not killed a bear but he had traded for them. All of them dreamt of hunting and then killing a bear.  When they ate of its heart then its power would devolve to them. They would become warriors who could not be defeated. They wore painted markings upon their faces and they had the sign of the bear tattooed on their chests.  They looked fierce and that was their intention.  They were, however, not blooded.  When Ardal had fought for the land Banquo had been with the rearguard and they were not needed. He had hoped to find action against the Venicones but they had proved reluctant to fight.  He and his oathsworn were frustrated.  They were desperate for the chance to prove their courage.

As Banquo looked across the water he realised that this would not be a chance for glory but it would be an opportunity to show his men that he had power and he knew how to use it. It would be a chance for his men to flex their muscles.  Ban still had warriors.  They might be old but they would have to do. The Romans were too far away to fight.

Mavourna had seen the Votadini warriors arrive.  Since the visit of the Atrebate she had taken to staring west in case he came again.  There had been something in his eyes and his voice which she found appealing. When, however, she saw the warriors she became worried. There were too many for a social visit and they looked to be armed for war.  The fact that they were all mounted told her much.  She hurried to her father to tell him.

Her father was a deep man and a religious man.  He had toyed with the idea of becoming a priest when he was younger for he had the ability to see into the future. His own father’s death had put that idea from his mind but he still retained the ability to see beyond the obvious.

“This is the doing of my nephew, Ardal.”

“How can you be sure?  This did not look like a royal retinue.”

Ban smiled at his daughter whom he loved dearly.  She was the only child who had lived beyond childhood.  When Ban went to the Otherworld his name would die unless she had issue. He did not fear his own death but he feared for his daughter and his line. “This may not be Ardal but it may well be someone sent on his behalf. You should leave.  Take the boat and sail to the oppidum.  You will be safe there. Go with the slave women.”

She stood defiantly. “No! I will not! My place is at your side.  Besides if this is an attack of some kind then you will need all the men you can muster.”

They both knew, however, that the ten men who lived on the island were almost as old as Ban.  Their days of defending the land were long gone. “In that case, we will let the seas and the lands defend us.  Gather all the food and take it into the fort. We will wait out the storm.”

That evening every animal and scrap of food was taken inside and as much water as they could collect was stored.  There was no water on the island but they had huge stone tanks which collected the rainwater.  If this had been summer then they might have been in danger of running out but at this time of year they had a surplus.

Finally Ban issued all the weapons he had.  He looked sadly at them.  They were all old and had seen better days.  If this came to a fight then it would not be a long one but whoever came would know that they had fought a warrior and his friends.

When dawn came the tide was in once more.  Banquo had missed his opportunity during the night. They had sat up until late drinking and had not set guards. He and his men had slept when they could have walked across the causeway. He rode to the edge of the sea and shouted across to the island. No-one was close and he could see figures standing behind the wooden walls.  No one acknowledged him. It was frustrating. It was as though the sea was fighting him too. He wondered if he ought to have brought a slave to sacrifice; perhaps that would have turned the tide.