Read Hosker, G [Sword of Cartimandua 12] Roman Wall Online
Authors: Griff Hosker
Carac frowned in irritation. The name of the horsemen always inspired fear in the hearts of Brigante. They feared the wrath of the sword. He waved a dismissive hand. “It matters not. We outnumber them by two to one. We will have surprise on our side. Scanlan, take half of the men and go to the other side of the road. When we attack and their attention is upon us then you can fall on their unguarded backs. It will be a slaughter.”
If Carac intended the task as an insult it did not work. Scanlan spat on the forest floor and picked up his shield. Unlike some of the others he knew the value of a shield and a good sword. He had fought the Romans before. He pointed to the warriors he wanted and they loped off across the road. He shook his head in disgust. None of these had shields and the weapons they held were of poor quality. He hoped the Romans who were approaching were equally poorly equipped.
Rufius was not complacent as they reached the marker which told them that it was a mere ten miles from Morbium. He had operated behind enemy lines too many times for that. He knew the potential of an inattentive warrior. They might be close to a bed for the night but that didn’t mean they could relax. Gaius was a good leader but he was not the tracker that was Rufius and so when Rufius turned and said quietly, “Ambush ahead!” He was surprised.
“How do you know?”
Gesturing with his head Rufius said, “Forty paces up the undergrowth on both sides of the road has been moved and the vegetation trampled. It has not moved back yet and so it is recent. I will go to the left.” He turned his horse and said to Julius and the Quartermaster, “Ambush ahead, prepare yourselves. Whatever happens, driver, you keep moving.”
“Sir!”
Everyone, the Quartermaster included, respected Rufius and no-one questioned his word. Acutely aware that whoever was waiting was now but thirty paces along the road, Rufius wheeled his horse around and drew his spatha. “Troopers on the left with me. The rest on Chosen Man.”
Once again the troopers obeyed instantly. They hefted their javelins and watched to the left.
Carac was neither an experienced leader nor warrior. He did not notice that the soldiers looked prepared and were alert. He thought that they had remained hidden. When the wagon drew level he led his warriors forward screaming their war cry which he knew would instil fear into the Romans. Of course he did not take into account that the tree line had been cut back to thirty paces from the ditch at the edge of the road. Neither did he anticipate that the auxiliaries would be ready for him. Gaius and his troopers wheeled as one and hurled their first javelins as soon as the barbarians left the woods. Even as three men fell to the ground another eight javelins followed. Not waiting to see the effect Gaius and his men used their last javelins as lances and charged the surprised Brigante. Carac was speared by Gaius himself. The javelin struck his unprotected middle. Gaius twisted and pulled it out. Carac’s dreams of glory ended, along with the lives of his fellow warriors.
Scanlan son of Osric the brave was more cautious and experienced than Carac. He saw the troopers turn to face the woods and knew that they were expected. He had chosen the three men with bows. “Aim for the horses. You men with the spears make a hedgehog.” The three arrows sped towards the Romans. Two of the arrows were taken on the Roman shields but one horse was struck in the rump. It reared and screamed its pain. The trooper jerked on the reins so that it turned away from the threat and, more importantly, did not frighten the other horses.
Rufius leaned forward over his horse’s neck. He charged for the archers. Even as they prepared to loose a second Rufius’ horse thundered towards them. He chopped down on the closest warrior, the long spatha almost severing the man’s neck. Behind him two other troopers despatched the other two. Had the spearman stood they might have had a chance but the sight of three of their comrades lying dead and the javelins of the others hurling towards them showed them that their element of surprise had evaporated like morning mist.
When Gaius and his troopers appeared, Scanlan knew that the attack had failed. He would return to Briac. Pausing only to throw his spear at the trooper who charged him he turned and disappeared into the woods. The trooper pulled up his shield to take the spear. It cracked into the wood and he shook it free. When the young trooper looked for the warrior he saw only trees. He wheeled instead to despatch the warrior fleeing Rufius. It was all over within a short time. The only survivor, Scanlan, hid in a dell and watched as the Romans eased the pain of the dying and collected the weapons. He idly wondered why they did that. Their weapons were patently better. He suspected it was to deny the Brigante weapons of any type. When the wagon and its escort moved south Scanlan stood and headed slowly west. He would face Briac and whatever punishment was coming his way. When he passed Carac he noticed the surprised look on the reckless warrior’s face. Scanlan had made a mistake but he was a man and would own up to it.
The prefect at the fort was not surprised by their encounter. “We suspected there was a band operating and we sent regular patrols along the road but they saw no signs.”
“Well they are all dead now. They were Brigante.”
“That surprises me, Decurion. They have been as good as gold around here. We have a good relationship with them. Of course we put that down to the family of Decurion Aurelius. They live close enough for us to benefit from their friendship.”
Rufius nodded, “Well Gaius, I will leave you here and go to the farm. I doubt that you will have any trouble further south.” He pointed to the trooper whose horse had been wounded. “If you call at the farm of Decurion Princeps Metellus, his wife will let you have a replacement. She is good with horses and his mount will benefit.”
“Thank you sir.” He reached into his pocket for the money from the bet.
Rufius laughed and shook his head, “No Chosen Man, I shall not take your money. You will learn not to make such bets in the future.”
Gaius was sorry to see the Explorate leave. He had more skills than the Chosen Man could dream of.
Rufius kicked on. He knew the trail to Ailis’ farm as well as he knew the back of his horse’s head. He was still alert as he rode down the tree lined trail. He knew that the farm was the most secure place in the world apart from a Roman fort. Marcus’ father, Gaius Aurelius, had made strong walls and deep ditches to protect it. Marcus’ brother, Decius, now ran the farm and he maintained the high standards. Marcus’ wife, Frann and his children lived there in safety. Ailis, their mother, had been a slave and neither of the brothers would countenance owning a slave; instead they paid men to work their land and to guard their property. All of Marcus’ pay went into the upkeep of the homestead.
The trees were well cut back on the approach to the very Roman gate. A sentry appeared from behind the gate. Rufius smiled; his approach had been watched from a distance. He was, of course, recognised and waved through. Marcus’ Horse had been instrumental in saving the farm on many occasions and he relaxed for he knew he was amongst friends.
A stable boy raced to hold his horse. Rufius noticed the eager look on the boy’s face. He would, no doubt, yearn to be a horseman like Rufius. It was Ailis herself who came to greet Rufius. The Decurion had no idea of her age but knew that it had been over thirty years since she had been rescued. Yet, apart from the grey hair, she still looked as bright and alert as ever.
She greeted Rufius as though he were her son. “Welcome Decurion. How is my son?”
“As ever, domina, he is well and sends his love and felicitations.” He turned and went to his saddlebags. “I have letters for you and his lady.”
She took them; gratitude written all over her face. She was nothing if not astute. “But Prefect Livius did not send a decurion all the way here with just a message, did he?”
Rufius shook his head. Ailis was said to be an acolyte of the Mother and had second sight. She was certainly sharp for her age. “Can we talk?”
“Come to my garden.”
She linked Rufius’ arm and led him through a narrow gate into a walled garden. It was still filled with late summer flowers. The fruit trees were laden with apples, pears and plums. There was a carved seat next to the wall. This was obviously a favoured spot. She smiled as Rufius sat next to her. “I like to come here. It makes me closer to Gaius somehow and dear Uncle Gaelwyn. You can speak openly here for no one can hear.”
“I have been tasked by your son with two missions. I am to return north with Felix and Wolf.” She nodded. “And, first, I am to find out what is in the hearts of the Brigante. They have been quiet of late.”
She frowned briefly and then gripped Rufius’ arm tightly. “I believe my son has the second sight as I used to have. There is something brewing amongst the Brigante. Marcus is correct. No-one is speaking of war and yet warriors are practising the art of war. Many young warriors were missing from the villages for most of the summer. I believe they were being initiated.”
“It is as we feared.”
“Is that enough? Can you return with just the information of an old woman?”
Rufius laughed and kissed her on the top of her head. “You will never be old, domina. But I will have to go into the camps of these Brigante warriors. We need to know more of their plans.”
“It is dangerous.” She patted his hand and then said, “Take Felix and Wolf. The boy has grown much and reminds me of you when you were first a trooper.”
“I had intended to. Where would you suggest I begin?”
“Not at Stanwyck that is for sure. That is visited by the patrols from Morbium and Cataractonium on a regular basis. They are greeted as friends and yet I know that the villagers there loathe the Romans. You were better to head west towards the land above Lavatris.”
“We have a fort there also.”
“It contains but half a century now and they maintain the road only. The peace has meant that the rest of the garrison was sent further north.” She chuckled, “I suspect they have an easy time and they bother no-one. Most of them have been in the province for some time and many are due to retire.”
Rufius laughed, “You would make a good frumentari.”
She feigned outrage, “You think I am a spy?”
“No, domina but you give better intelligence than I could receive in Eboracum.” He looked up at the darkening sky. “I had better leave if I am to find Felix.”
“You will not stay with us?”
“I mean no disrespect, domina, but I have my duty.”
“I understand. Call on the way back but, please, take one of our horses. Yours is clearly Roman. There is no point telling the Brigante who you are.”
As she led him to the stables Rufius could not help reflecting on this remarkable woman who had survived slavery amongst the Picts, fought off raiders and rebels and yet was still able to function with such clarity of thought.
Ailis insisted that he use one of their saddles and she took his spatha from him and gave him another. “This was Uncle Gaelwyn’s. It is a Brigante blade and it will arouse no suspicion.”
“Thank you, domina.” He mounted the horse which was really a large pony. “Does Drugi still live by the water?”
She nodded, “He does but they will see you long before you see them. Take care, Rufius and may the Allfather watch over you.”
Chapter 4
Drugi had been a slave in the lands far to the west and he had helped to rescue both Marcus and his wife Frann. He was devoted to the family but preferred a lonely existence as a hunter. Rufius had thought himself a good scout and tracker until he met Drugi. The big man could disappear in an instant and was as silent as the night. The decurion knew that as soon as he was within four hundred paces of the house he would be under observation.
The house was where it had always been although Rufius noticed that it had been extended a little. That was probably to accommodate Felix. He reined in and tied his horse to the willow which overhung the stream. As he took the saddle off he heard a slight noise, “You are slipping Drugi; I heard that.”
The ex-slave chuckled, “I made the noise so as not to startle you Roman. I know how nervous Roman soldiers can be when they are in the woods.”
Rufius turned and embraced the giant who came from a land far to the east where the winters lasted most of the year. Drugi never changed. His shaven head and face meant that you could not tell his age anyway. He was enormous but had no fat upon him. He was like a beast of the forest.
“Where is Felix?”
“He is hunting. Come inside he will return soon.”
The hut was basic. There was a crudely made table and two chairs. The bed was a mattress filled with duck and goose feathers and the walls held an array of weapons. A small fire burned in the middle of the roundhouse and the smoke drifted up through a hole in the middle. Haunches of venison and wild boar were hung from the roof and were gently smoking.
Drugi found a place for the saddle and gestured for Rufius to sit. He took two carved wooden beakers and lifted an amphora. “Let us drink. Felix is too young to appreciate this.”
Rufius knew what was coming. It was a potent brew distilled from plum wine made by Drugi. It was a reminder of his home in the east. Rufius braced himself for the shock of the fiery drink. Drugi downed his in one, smacked his lips and poured himself a second.
“So what brings you here, Decurion?”
Rufius repeated his story and Drugi nodded. “The Lady Ailis is right. They have a camp well to the north of Lavatris close to the roaring waters. They keep good guards there.” He shrugged, “If I could be bothered I would have investigated. I think they just play at being warriors.” He drained his second beaker. “I can find out what they are up to if you like.”
“I appreciate the offer, Drugi but I have been given the mission and I must do it alone.”
He chuckled again and the deep rolling noise was somehow reassuring, “Except that you will take the boy and the dog.”
Rufius nodded, “I will take the boy and the dog.”