Hosker, G [Sword of Cartimandua 03] Invasion- Caledonia (22 page)

Chapter 14

The new fortress of Inchtuthil was strategically sited in the Valley of the Tava. To the north the high mountains were like the spine of this land, the backbone of the country rising like some giant prehistoric creature. No army could descend into the valley of the valley of the Bodotria without passing the fortress. The pass to the north west was also within striking distance for the legionaries. Around it smaller forts dotted the land providing the auxiliaries with their own bases. Agricola used his time well to ensure that they were stoutly built. The naval supplies continued to arrive, bringing men and material to bolster his army. The barbarians could only stare impotently at the burgeoning Roman presence.  Their attack on the Ninth had so nearly succeeded but all it had done was to make the Romans more alert and to increase their defences. Ditches were now double and deeper with sharpened spikes in the bottom. Walls were higher and sentries were doubled. Any complaints from the men disappeared as the stories of the night time assault were told. The security of their home was more important than the loss of a little sleep.

Marcus’ Horse found themselves up the valley from the Ninth at Cardean.  Less than two hundred paces away was the Batavian fort with the first and second Batavian cohorts. Agricola was taking no chances; he wanted his most experienced forces at the front to give adequate warning and to repel any assault.  Although other auxiliary cohorts were arriving none was as reliable as these three and some, like the Usipi were a liability.

The Quartermaster Porcius Verres scoured the local area for supplies to supplement his ala’s diet. This was not altruistic he could buy more, with less money locally than he could from their bases further south. He found a small fishing village south of the fort on the wide estuary of the Tava which provided him not only with fish but game as well. The clan there although at first wary soon welcomed the silver the business brought. It was close enough that he could also buy some of their bread which was of a better quality than his own ovens could provide.  In fact the portly Porcius became quite fond not only of the bread but also the sweet honeyed cakes which they produced.

Fainch was not unaware of the both the forts and the Quartermaster’s expeditions. She remembered a former Quartermaster, Gaius Cresens; she had been able to subvert him for he was corrupt and evil.  This quartermaster was not.  She needed another plan. The woman who produced the honey cakes worked and lived alone her husband having died some years earlier in an inter clan strife. Fainch insinuated herself into the woman’s company portraying herself too as a widow. The woman needed help as the ala was demanding more and more of her breads and cakes.  As a priestess she was not without culinary skills and she persuaded the woman to allow her to live and work with her. This strategy was crucial to the witch’s plan for revenge. She took to chatting to Porcius when he came every few days for his delicacies. She bantered with him and gave him tastes of new treats she had cooked.

“You must tell me what your men at the fort like to eat, I am sure that I could make them treats which they would enjoy.”

“For myself I love the honey cakes Ailsa makes. But these are very pleasant too. What are they?”

“They are oatcakes with dried berries and honey in them. I also have a few spices in there which I think gives them a little heat.”

“I will take some of them back for my officers.  Some of them like a change from their normal diet.”

When he returned a few days later he sought out Fainch although she now called herself Una, and asked her about her oatcakes. Some of my officers liked your oatcakes in fact the prefect told me they were the most pleasant food he had eaten. They reminded him of the spicy food of his childhood.  I will buy some for him.” He leaned over confidentially, “he is a great leader and a warrior of renown. The general himself often visits our fort to discuss great matters with him.”

“In that case when you return I will bake a batch just for him.”

Porcius looked downcast. “Have you none ready?”

“The spices are expensive.  I only use them when I know I have someone who likes the cakes.”

“I will return the day after tomorrow. Ailsa have you my treats ready?”

“Of course Quartermaster.” She eyed his rotund frame. “If you continue to partake you will be the twice the man you are now.”

He laughed, “And that is no bad thing is it eh Una?”

“No Quartermaster it is not.”

The batch that Fainch baked did indeed have spices in them; in fact they were vital to disguise the taste of the poison she would administer. She had two choices wolfsbane or white baneberry. The white baneberry was deadlier and she had used it to kill Queen Cartimandua but it had more of a taste; it had only worked with the Queen because of the alcohol and spices in the pudding.  It would be the wolfsbane. This time there would be no escape for Marcus Aurelius Maximunius.

Agricola and his three prefects were studying the map of Caledonia. “I think that a push up this valley,” the general indicated the valley running north west, south east from the Ninth’s fort might be useful.  It seems to be the only route into the highland area.”

“Ambush country sir.” Prefect Strabo tended to be a little blunt in his observations.

“You are right Furius but we need to find out who is out there and in what numbers. You three prefects are experienced and you work very well together. Remember Mona and Wyddfa? We had worse country there to manage and we succeeded.”

“True sir, “Cominius was far more reflective than his friend but we have never really faced these warriors in battle. These are the Caledonii and the Vacomagi. How do they fight? What are their numbers?”

“Which is why prefect that we are sending this expedition to gauge our enemies.” The general turned to Marcus who had remained silent so far. “Prefect you have said little.  Have you an opinion?”

“I have kept silent general because this is not horse country. It would not be my men who would have to come up with a strategy. Those hills and forests prevent my troopers from using their speed and impetus.  We could be fighting as infantry.”

“That is true. The horses would only be useful if we had to pursue an enemy.”

“Which may well occur.”

“Ah, this is a problem for I do not wish to send just two cohorts, it would invite ambush.  I would prefer an ala and two cohorts but you have a point prefect. You have presented me with a dilemma.”

“Perhaps some refreshments might help us to think a little more clearly?”

Furius beamed, “An excellent idea.  You do have a good quartermaster prefect. Any man with a girth to rival mine knows his food.”

“He has procured some excellent food from the local area.  I think you will enjoy it. Atticus.”

His servant entered, a dour look on his ancient face, “Yes prefect?”

“Bring us some wine and a selection of those sweet cakes he promised me.”

“Yes prefect.”

“We could have a turma as scouts and then the rest of the ala as a rearguard.  That way they could fight on foot or horse as circumstances dictate.”

“Good idea.”

Cominius still foresaw a problem. “From the scout’s report, it is going to be difficult to find good sites for camps and, bearing mind the problems the Ninth suffered I would want secure camp sites.”

Just then Atticus returned with the food. “These look interesting Marcus what are they?”

“They are sweetened breads from a village by the coast.  Our quartermaster has procured them for me. These, “he picked up the berry and honey bread, “are my particular favourite and before you devour the lot Furius I will eat one.” He pointed to the small breads, golden and appetising. “ Those are also really good but they have neither berries nor spice in them.”

“They will do for me.” Furius tucked into the breads so favoured by Porcius. Marcus chewed on his delicacy whilst Agricola and Cominius sipped their wine.

“I think you are right about the secure camp sites.  It is a ticklish problem.”

They all looked at Marcus who had suddenly stopped eating, dropping his half eaten cake to the floor. “What is the matter Marcus?”

“My mouth feels numb, feels strange and I am hot even though it is cold I…” Suddenly he started coughing and spluttering, the three men could see that he was struggling to breath. Atticus heard the commotion and rushed in.

“Master what is it?”

Agricola picked up the half eaten cake.  “It was this. Strabo how do you feel?”

“Fine.  I had there of these and I have no ill effects.”

“The prefect has been poisoned.” Atticus ran from the tent and Agricola and the others began to loosen the prefect’s clothing.

“What do we do?” The three men so confident and competent in war knew not what to do. It was obvious that the man had been poisoned but what could they do?

“Get the surgeon.”

Cominius ran from the tent just as Atticus returned with a black power and some water. Throwing the wine from the untouched beaker of the prefect he poured the black powder in and then the water. He began to stir, flicking his eyes constantly at the prefect. “Hold him up he must drink this.” Agricola and Strabo were too stunned to wonder at a mere slave ordering them around nor could they even begin to question what concoction he was giving the obviously dying man. “Put his head horizontally,” ordered the slave who  began to pour the black, viscous liquid down the prefect’s throat. Suddenly Marcus’s body began to contort and Atticus had to hold his mouth shut and pinch his nose. “Hold his arms and legs! Stop him from thrashing around.” The two Romans easily controlled his arms and legs and the prefect had to swallow. Cominius had returned with the surgeon as Marcus began vomiting a black and yellow liquid.

“What did you give him Atticus?”

“Ground charcoal and water sir!”

“Good.  Is this the poisoned cake?” Stunned, they all nodded. The surgeon sniffed it and put a tiny morsel on his tongue.  He immediately spat it on the floor. “Either monk’s bane or wolfsbane. Well done Atticus you may have saved your prefect’s life.” He went to the tent’s entrance and shouted. “You two troopers come here.” A moment later the two men entered the tent shocked at the sight they beheld. “Take the prefect to his tent.  Take off his armour and cover him.  Atticus you must stay besides your prefect and give him more of the charcoal and water. When the vomit is purely black you may stop,” As the four men left Agricola spoke for all of them.  “We need to find the quartermaster. This was an attempt on the life of the prefect.  An attempt which may well have succeeded. Prefect Strabo go and find the quartermaster, Sura bring Decius.”

By now the whole camp had heard of the attempt and Agricola found a flurry of decurions at the tent. “Decius order your decurions to bring the ala to readiness. Then join the quartermaster in the prefect’s tent!”

The Quartermaster was white. “Sir I…”

“You are not a suspect in this Quartermaster.  I need to know where you bought these cakes.”

“I have been using an old woman in the village, Ailsa.  She made those.” He pointed to the cakes left by Strabo.

“The general pointed at the cake being examined by the surgeon. “And those?”

“No those were made by a new woman in the village. Una.”

Decius had returned to hear the last words. Agricola considered the cake as though it could speak.” Why did you acquire these for the prefect?”

“She made them especially for him. He had one last week and enjoyed it.”

Decius spoke his voice hard and quiet. “This woman, Una? When did you first see her in the settlement?”

“A week ago.  She helped Ailsa and…”

“Describe her.”

“She is small, not young and yet not old. Her eyes…”

“They are the colour of young violas and you felt your loins ache when you saw her?”

Agricola and the two prefects turned to stare, along with Porcius at the Decurion Princeps who suddenly had second sight. “Decius how did you know?”

His face drained of all colour he turned to the general. “The prefect described her to me when they were travelling back from Mona.  It was Fainch the witch. The woman who murdered the Queen and caused the death of the prefect’s wife and child has tried to kill him again for it was she who tried to burn him in the wicker cage.”

“Decurion Princeps take four turmae and turn that settlement inside and out. Porcius accompany them. I want this Una taken and Ailsa, she may or may not be an accomplice but we need to find out.” He turned to the two prefects. “Get back to your commands until we get to the bottom of this I want everyone on full alert. Tell Decius Brutus at the Ninth what is going on.”

Agricola struck the desk with his fist in anger. This was the kind of warfare he did not care for.  Barbarians could try sneak attacks, they could ambush his men but to poison and kidnap went against everything Agricola held dear.  What galled him the most was that it was a woman, a druid; the rest had died but the last remnant of a foul, decadent and evil religion was wreaking havoc with this war.  The woman would have to be found and when she was found there was only one punishment, crucifixion.

Decius was in a grim mood when he and Porcius confronted the baker, Ailsa. “But sir she was just a woman who offered to help me.  I did not know her.  I swear.”

“Listen you piece of vermin, my prefect has been poisoned and the poison came from here.  I care not that you are a woman. If I don’t find that woman then you will suffer her punishment, crucifixion for I will have revenge and my general will have revenge. Whether you are innocent or not does not matter. The poison came from this hovel and before we leave here this hovel will be ashes and, if I do not get the answers I want so will you.”

Porcius put his arm out as though to restrain Decius. “Decurion Ailsa is a good woman.”

Decius grabbed the portly Quartermaster by the throat and put his face close to him. “Listen you fat piece of shit! You were the one who bought the food! You were the one who gave it to the prefect. You are so close to having my dagger rip out your throat that I would keep quiet if I were you.”