Hosker, G [Sword of Cartimandua 00.5] Ulpius Felix- Warrior of Rome (8 page)

BOOK: Hosker, G [Sword of Cartimandua 00.5] Ulpius Felix- Warrior of Rome
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The shaving took longer but when his face was dried they did not recognise Cava and Gerjen almost tried to run out, but the Prefect restrained him. “He is still the same Cava, just a little cleaner. Tell them Cava.”

The Chosen Man gave a half smile and rubbed his hand around his face.  “Well I feel lighter anyway but this feels cold. It doesn’t hurt lads and I will watch this prick in case he gets sloppy.” He then glared at the legionary, knelt down and picked up the hair.

“What the fuck…”

Cava stood and put his face close to the soldier.  “A prick like you will not understand but I will bury this and when I go to meet my ancestors it will be waiting!”

Soon they all looked the same and they stared at each other as though trying to reassure themselves that they were the same men. Each clutched the precious hair which had cascaded to the floor. “Well done.  You have shown yourselves to be brave warriors.  When we ride back into camp do so proudly.”

“But sir what if the men laugh at us?”

“Ignore them for by this time tomorrow they will all look the same.”

As they left and the legionary began to clean up he looked after them and shook his head.  “Bloody barbarians! They’ll be back to collecting heads next.”

Riding back in the darkening evening they all felt naked, as though they had no clothes on.  They had to ride through the other camps before they saw the sign of the bull at their gates.  The whole of the ala, officers included watched in silence as the seventeen shorn men rode in to their camps.  Panyvadi’s fears had been groundless as even Sura and his cronies stared in horror at the vision of their future. As the ala went back to their duties Flavius turned to Marius. “I don’t think it will be easy in the morning sir. I saw some very belligerent looks.  It’s a shame, all that good work undone because the Legate wants them to look like his legionaries.”

Marius held up a warning hand. “Be careful with your tongue Flavius. This Legate regards any criticism as treason.  Let us see what the morning brings and deal with tas best we can.”

Wolf and his turma went straight into their tents.  The last thing they wanted was to be stared at. Gerjen shook his head.  “I thought it was good to join the Romans but I do not like this.  I feel as though someone has taken my face from me and given me another’s.”

Darvas laughed, “I never knew you were such a pretty boy Gerjen.”

Gerjen leapt at Darvas with his dagger in his hand. Wolf smashed his own hand down on to the back of Gerjen’s making him drop it.  “Stop this now! You have both taken two oaths, one to the standard and one to Rome. That means that we do whatever we are ordered to.  It is as simple as that. We may not like everything we do but did we like everything at home?  Is this not a better life?  Here we serve the wolf, “he pointed at the standard in the corner, “and that is enough.  The Decurion told me that Rome was founded by two boys who were suckled by a wolf.  Is this not a sign? I do not like this bare and itchy face and I miss my hair hanging down but I will get used to it.  We all will.”

Sura and the other disenchanted Pannonians whispered in the dark. “I am not having my hair cut. I will look like a woman.  These Romans all smell like women and I do not wish to stay in their army.”

“But where will you go?”

Sura pointed beyond the tent walls to the north.  “We will cross the river and join the tribes who fight the Romans.  We came to fight and to kill.  We can continue to fight the Romans.” He ran his hand down his scarred face.  “I still remember the Roman who did this to me and I will have my revenge. Are you with me?”

There was a murmur of ayes and one lone voice said.  “I will stay. I like this Roman army.  May the Allfather be with you.”

Sura turned to the man who crouched at the rear of the tent. Smiling he put his left hand on his shoulder and murmured, “And may you be with the Allfather soon.” The pugeo sliced across the man’s windpipe and he died silently.

Sura and his men slipped out of the tent.  While his warriors slipped to the entrance of the camp and the guards, Sura sought the others who did not like the Romans. Twenty warriors made their way to the entrance where Quintus was on duty.  The smiling Decurion spoke to the two men on guard at the entrance and then went on his patrol around the other sentries positioned in the middle of each wall.  As soon as he had disappeared the twenty eight men with Sura surged forward and overpowered the two young guards who died as silently as the single protestor had done. The night was silent as they crept towards the horse lines. There were three sentries there and one of them managed to cry out before being silenced.

Quintus heard the cry and, knowing how close they were to the river shouted, “To arms! To arms!”

Sura and his men were, first and foremost Pannonians which meant they needed no saddles.  They each grabbed a handful of mane and hauled themselves onto the backs of the horses.  They kicked on across the open ground to the Rhenus, dark and menacing in the distance.  They did not pause at the river but leapt in and let their horses swim, frantically across. By the time Quintus and the other guards had reached the horse lines all that they could see was the vague shape of dark bodies slipping across the water.

Marius and the other officers saw the dead bodies and their first reaction was that the Chauci had come across the river to steal horses. As they checked the bodies of the dead Flavius glanced up and saw the troopers emerging, armed from their tents. He pointed to an empty area of tents.  “Sir, there are no men in those tents, perhaps they have been killed.”

“You and Publius check them. Sextus, have the men line up outside their tents. We will have a roll call.”

Soldiers from the other camps began to arrive, having heard the commotion. “Whoever it was has fled across the river!”

The other officers nodded.  “We will double the guards around our camps. It is too dark to pursue them across the river.  What damage have they done?”

“At least five men killed and a number of horses stolen.”

Flavius came back; his face displaying his anger. “It was not Chauci.  It was Sura and his men.  They have murdered one man.”

“Damn the Legate and his orders.  This is the hair cutting isn’t it?”

Decurion Murgus shook his head, “No sir.  These buggers would have run at some point.  In a way it is better that it was now rather than later.  This way the bad apples have all gone and good riddance to them.”

“The trouble is Aulus that they know our commands and our orders. They may come back to haunt us.”

The next day the ala was paraded by Prefect Proculus. The First \Turma stood out as different with their shaved faces and short hair but Marius was in no mood for truculence from anyone.  He had yet to make his report to the Legate but he knew his superior would not be pleased.  He could afford no more arguments about the tonsor.

“Last night six of our comrades were murdered by Sura and thirty other warriors.  I do not know why they ran but I suspect they were not happy about the loss of their hair.  But they took an oath.”He paused as the word ’oath’ echoed around the camp.  “You all took an oath.  You will all have you faces shaved today and your hair cut because you are my men and you obey my orders.  If any of you cannot obey that order then leave now.  I do not want you in my ala.”

The officers looked at each other with a worried look on their face. With the mood of their men the Pannonian ala could cease to exist if they chose to leave. They watched as the men peered at the warriors around them.

Cava stepped forwards. “Sir the First Turma have obeyed the order. While the rest make up their mind shall we see to the horses?  We all want to stay in this army.”

Smiling, Marius said, “Carry on Decurion Cava!”

The men of the First Turma proudly marched out and Wolf murmured to Cava.  “Did I hear right? Are you a Decurion now?”

“Unless he made a mistake I guess so.  We’ll find out soon enough.”

Prefect Proculus waited until the turma had exited the camp.  “Well?  Any man who wishes to leave, step forwards.” Not a man moved.  They all kept their faces forward. “Good. Then the second Turma will march to the fortress followed by the other turmae in order. Carry on Decurion Murgus.”

As the men marched off Flavius stood next to the Prefect.  “That was close sir.  I thought they would have all left.”

“I think they were waiting for one man to do it first.  Thanks to Cava they had the model of what to do. “

“Did you mean to promote him?”

“Not necessarily today but we need officers who can lead.  I only have six of you and that is not enough is it? I just thought it would make the point that we reward loyalty. You take over here while I go and face the wrath of the Legate.”

“I don’t envy you.”

“Well at least once I have received my bollocking we can go no lower.  The only way is up.”

“I have no idea why you have been sent here Prefect.  As far as I can see you are more of a liability than an asset.  I do not have a full ala.  Your men are disobedient and now, I find, murderers who have swelled the ranks of the very enemy they were sent to fight.  Have I omitted anything?”

Marius kept a stony face, as much as he wanted to punch the smug faced aide who grinned at him from behind the Legate’s back he would have to take his medicine silently and bite back any retort.  “No sir.”

The Legate seemed satisfied with the acceptance of his censure.  “And they are being shorn?”

“Even as we speak sir.”

“Good! Then you can begin your patrols. Your men are to patrol this side of the river from here to the coast and then up the river towards Novaesium.  I want early warning of any movement by the Chauci. I want to launch a raid next week to destroy their capital and I do not want them to be aware of our preparation.  Clear?”

“Yes sir.”

As he left the office the Camp Prefect, Gaius Bassus was waiting for him.  “Do you mind if I walk with you?”

“I would be delighted although I feel very much like a leper at the moment.”

“Oh don’t worry about the Legate.  He is a good general once you get used to his funny little ways.” Marius stopped and gave him a puzzled look. Bassus shrugged and smiled, “Well eccentric then.  The important point is that you are the only cavalry and when we attack next week your men will have to swim the river and protect the pontoon bridge my engineers are constructing.”

“I wondered how we would get across.”

“The Gallic cohort will be ferried across by the Classis Germania and once they are there then your job will be easier but you will have to cross the river while they are harassing you.  It will be hard.”

“Unless we go at night while they aren’t watching.”

“That is a little risky isn’t it?”

“I would have said yes but for the fact that thirty of my men did it last night to escape us.”

“I heard.”

“I suspect we will never live it down.”

“It will be forgotten quickly once you perform on the battlefield. So you could do it at night then?”

“First we will need to practise swimming.  We will be wearing armour and we have never done it.”

“Why not see the Navarchus; if he placed his ships down stream they could rescue any of your man swept away.”

“Would he do that?”

“His priority is the protection of his ships.  This is their main base. By destroying the Chauci base his ships are safer.”

“Why didn’t the Legate explain that to me?”

“I told you he is eccentric; a brilliant general but he only rates the legions.  You auxiliaries are still barbarians.” He glanced up as the third turma rode out looking glum and without their hair.  “Believe it or not that will help to convince him that they are Romans.”

“Thank you for that Camp Prefect.”

“Gaius, please, and we are all on the same side.  I for one was glad to see you and your lads arrive. This is not the country for my men.”

Wolf felt better now that the rest of the ala had been shaved.  He was getting used to the lack of hair but his face felt itchy.  He was riding behind Flavius as the three turmae headed along the river to the next Roman fort of Novaesium. He had never seen such a wide river.  Even the Danubius which they had seen for many miles was but half its width.  He could see the smoke from the fires of settlements across the river and he wondered how they would get across. It seemed strange, to him, that they had not built the camp on the opposite bank.

Their journey to the fortress was uneventful.  Flavius rode up to the gate and reported to the optio there, and then turned to return on the second leg of the their patrol, the journey home. “Sir?”

“Yes Wolf?”

“Is that all we do now sir. Ride along the river.”

“Are you bored then?”

“Well I thought that we were needed here to fight the Chauci.”

“Have you seen any?”

“Well no sir.”

“Then fighting them is a little hard but we will have a diversion on the way back I assure you. You will not be bored for long.”

They were halfway back when the Decurion halted them. “Right lads.  We are going to do some training here.” They all looked around and wondered why he had chosen the flat part of the river bank for training. “We are going to have a swimming lesson.”

Gerjen blurted out.  “But sir, we’ll drown.”

“Why?”

“We can’t swim.”

Flavius raised his voice so that they could all hear him.  “At home how did your horses gat across rivers?”

“They jumped in and swam sir.”

“Well done Darvas.  And did they drown?”

“No sir.”

“Then let us see how it is done eh?” Flavius had never swum either but the Prefect had assured him that they needed to learn and learn quickly.  He nudged his horse forwards and walked it into the river.  He could see the current and he headed his horse up stream.  As soon as he felt the motion of the horse become smoother, as its hooves left the river bed, he grabbed a handful of mane and the reins and lay flat along the back of the horse.  He found, to his surprise that he still floated, despite the metal he was carrying.  He pulled the reins in his right hand the horse began to turn, gratefully, back to the river bank. As it slipped up the slippery mud the Decurion almost fell but managed to right himself and save his dignity.

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