Hosker, G [Sword of Cartimandua 05] Revolt of the Red Witch (7 page)

“They could also decide we look like easy pickings and slit our throats.”

“Which is why tonight, young Gaius, we each take a watch and sleep with our horses tethered to our feet.”

Marcus smiled and Gaius asked, “What is so funny? Here we are stuck at the back end of the Roman Empire surrounded by enemies and with no friends within a week’s march.”

“I was just thinking back to all the times we rode up and down this road with the turma or the ala and never gave a moment’s thought to how pretty the land is around here.  Gaelwyn has caught us a delicious meal and here we are, three old friends lying beneath the stars. I don’t know about you Gaius but that makes me feel good.”

Gaelwyn nodded but Gaius would not let it go. “But Ailis and my children are in danger.”

“And that is why we are here and tomorrow we may all die.  Your family would still be captives and we would be dead so let us enjoy this night for it may be our last but it does not have to be filled with dire and dreadful thoughts eh?”

“He is right Gaius. You are blaming yourself for the raid. Do not deny it.  You have been itching for a fight with someone since we left the farm. You are not to blame. The barbarians have been raiding Brigantia since… well so far back we cannot count the years.  If you want to avoid the raids then move your family, when we rescue them, to the far south for there it is safe.  Would you do that?”

Gaius looked for all the world like a truculent little boy with pouted lips, “No of course not.”

“Well?”

“Well what?”

“Accept that we do what we can, we do our best but we take each moment as though it were our last for remember Gaius, none of us are young anymore.  When Decius Flavius died I swore then that I would enjoy life and by the Allfather I have. I do not want o be here because my family is in danger but if I am to be here then I will make the best of it and hope that someone is watching over us.”

“And as you are so full of evil thoughts you can have the first watch.  Wake the Tribune next and then me.  Goodnight.”

He was asleep in moments. “You have been a little irritable with Gaelwyn you know.”

“I know it’s just that he didn’t seem to care.”

“Oh he cares but he doesn’t upset himself or others, he keeps it inside. We will find them and we will save them.”

“What about dying tomorrow then?”

“Oh we could die tomorrow but that makes me determined even more that we don’t and then that will make tomorrow night even sweeter.  Goodnight and stop worrying. Trust in Gaelwyn and the Allfather.”

Lulach’s men left Coriosopitum and did not follow the road north as Gaelwyn had anticipated. Instead they followed the road built by the Romans towards Luguvalium. Lulach and his other warbands had been looting the lands of the Carvetii and the Novontae. His chiefs were wary of attacks from the south and the east. Marcus’ Horse had a fearsome reputation and Lulach had impressed upon his leaders that they had to avoid the ala at all costs.

As soon as Ailis realised that they had left the northernmost road she, once again, placed apiece of her dress in an obvious place.  As they trudge along the road, tucked behind the ridge rising to the north she said to the boys, “Today we must play a new game.”

“I like games,” said a very serious looking Marcus.  Decius, Macro’s son, always liked to copy Marcus and he too tried a serious face but it didn’t quite work; it came out as a lopsided grin making Ailis smile.

“Today’s game is to make our people smile.”

Marcus’ brother Decius looked at the cook and the other slaves and saw how sad they looked. “Why do they look sad mother?”

“Because they are captives as we are and they are going to be slaves in Caledonia.” Ailis had decided right at the start of this ordeal that she would try to be truthful with the boys wherever possible.

Decius pondered on this and then asked, “But I thought they were slaves already?  Aren’t they our slaves?”

“Yes they are but we treat them well do we not Ula?”

Ula, the cook, gave a half-hearted gap toothed smile.  She had been listening to the children talk and found her own troubles receding. “Yes young master Decius your mother and father are kind, even grumpy old Gaelwyn is kind in his own bad tempered way but we are going to a strange land and I fear that we will be treated badly.”

Ailis flashed her a sharp look, “But we are together are we not?”

“Yes mistress.”

“Well in that we have hope and they have not mistreated us yet. So boys let us see if we can make the people smile today.”

Gaius was almost disappointed when the night passed without incident.  He was even more perplexed when no-one came up the road from the fort. “You two break camp and I will ride back and see where they are.”

Gaelwyn galloped off and, after they had packed their equipment away they took the opportunity of taking out the swords they had secreted in the saddle cloths.  Gaius had brought the Sword of Cartimandua for, as he said to Marcus when questioned, “If I cannot use the sword to save the last of the Brigante royal family then what is the point of the sword. Besides I believe it will protect us. It always protected you when you used it did it not.”

Now as they checked the edges of their blades it was brought home to them just how perilous their journey was.  They were indeed on a knife’s edge themselves and one slip could end in disaster.

Gaelwyn rode in a short while later.  “They have headed east, I found their trail and this,” he held up the piece of dress.

“She is still alive then?” The relief in Gaius’ voice brought a smile to Marcus’ face.

“She is still alive.”

“Let us follow.  When we are closer I will try to see where they are exactly in the column.  They had been joined by many more raiders and captives. They must have sent a mighty force south.”

Marcus looked down the road to the distant and unseen fort of Morbium. “I wonder where the ala is?”

“And I wonder how the Prefect has tethered Macro for surely he would want to be here.”

“He would.  Gaius he would.”

Back at Cataractonium Macro was cursing his own honour and training as a soldier.  He could have broken free of the troopers, they would not have held him but he obeyed orders.  He had spent his life obeying orders. He had no wife, the bitch had betrayed him and killed his friend, but he had a son and he would protect his son, with his life if needs be.  He made a momentous decision; he would desert and find his son.  Once he had come to that conclusion he felt much better.  It would be a small task to escape.  They had merely tied his hands and the room he was in was not locked.  The trooper on guard outside would never hear him when he did escape

He chose his moment well.  It was just before the guards were due to be changed.  It would give him a short time to escape but it meant that the guard would be tired.  He broke out of his tethers for they had not used the chains ordered by the Prefect and although the rope was a good rope it was no match for the strength of mighty Macro. He retied them loosely.  Pretending to be asleep the guard closed the door and stood outside the cell bored and cold.  Macro opened the door silently, as he had planned.  He grabbed the trooper with one hand around his mouth and dragged him into the room.  Once inside he spun him around and hit him with his other mighty fist right on the point of his chin.  He went down like a sack of apples. He took his helmet, sword, pugeo and shield and walked calmly from the room towards the stables.  All the sentries were busy watching the perimeter; raiding barbarians had focussed their attention on the outside. He chose his own horse and, grabbing a water skin, he headed for the Porta Decumana. He mounted the horse and, with the cloak, wrapped tightly around his shoulders rode slowly up to the sentry on the gate.  The trooper was tired and saw what he expected to see, a messenger with despatches.  As he looked up for the pass he saw, with shock, that it was Macro.  Before he could shout a warning Macro had kicked him in the head rendering him unconscious. He dismounted and opened the gate.  The new guards would be coming soon so he just pushed the gate shut and walked his mount away from the fort.  As soon as he heard the shout from the tower he mounted his horse and galloped quickly north.

He skirted the fort and headed straight for Morbium. He was risking meeting the ala but, riding at night meant that they would likely be in camp anyway.  Now that he was racing along the main road north he began to work out what he ought to do.  He had no idea where his family was and he just hoped that by heading north he would meet up with Marcus and the others.  He felt certain that Gaelwyn would be on their trail but that trail was almost five days old and very cold.

Prefect Demetrius viewed the devastation that was Morbium.  The auxiliaries from the raids north and the survivors had all made their way there and Julius worked out that he had a cohort to man it. “Come on men.  Let us get these walls up.” It was imperative that the fort became defensible.  Decurion Princeps Cilo had suggested a mobile barrier across the bridge.  If the raiders returned then they would be slowed at least.  For himself Julius was desperate to move north.  To say he felt guilty about delaying his return because of some misguided view of honour was ridiculous.  He had determined that, once he had secured the captives he would resign.  As a patrician it was his right to do so and he would retire to Rome. He had let down his ala; he had let down Rome but worst of all he had let down his friends. The enemy might be three days up the road but he would pursue them and, when he returned Macro’s son to him he would resign with honour knowing he had done his best.

Seonag arrived at Mona even as the hunters were creeping their way north. She had, with her purloined gold, secured passage with an unctuously bejewelled merchant taking jet to Deva. She found it ironical that she held, in her casket, more jet than the merchant had ever seen in his life.  His pomposity had amused her as he told her of how he had cheated the villagers of their money as he gave them a much lower price for their jet.  She almost laughed aloud when he confided in her that he hoped to sell much jet to the sisters, the worshippers of the Mother. She knew that, once she arrived in Mona, the sisters would want for neither gold nor jet.

Morwenna greeted her like the log lost sister she was.  The signs, the symbols, the secret handshakes were unnecessary as the old woman and the young woman greeted each other.  They both knew instinctively who the other was. “Mother I bring you great treasure and great news.”

“Sister I was looking for a sign and I see it in your eyes.”

“The north is rebelling.  The Caledonii have come south and have devastated the border.”

“Calgathus?”

“Mother I believe so.”

“The Romans have moved all their troops south, to safer, richer lands.  The Brigante are ready to rebel. They have suffered too many privations and raids.  When their children are taken then they will act and the Caledonii have taken all the children.”

Morwenna grabbed the old woman to her breasts and hugged her. “You do not know how long I have waited and this is the sign.”

Seonag’s eyes filled with tears.  “I am a sign?”

“Sister you are the stone which begins the avalanche which sweeps the Romans from our land.”

Macro did not head for Morbium for he knew he might run into the ala or at the very least the barrier that he thought they would have erected.  Instead he headed east to where the Dunum was narrow and slow.  He would swim his mount across and then head up the partly built road which went north. He needed to get around the raiders and their pursuers it he was to meet up with Gaelwyn and Gaius. Having languished in a cell for a few days he was not tired and his only concern was for his mount. To spare the beast he walked up the hills leading his horse; it was an old trick and he thanked Sergeant Cato for his horse wisdom.

He was able to reflect, as he trudged up the hills, on his rash action.  He had, almost certainly, ended his career in the ala and, quite possible he had signed his own death warrant. It was a rash act but in the cold light of day he knew that he would do it again.  There came a time in a man’s life when some things became more important. He had had the glory he had sought when he joined the ala but, since the birth of his son and his betrayal by Morwenna he had had a different perspective.  His son was his immortality and he needed protecting.  Ailis was a wonderful foster mother and she would see that he was brought up as he should be to be a fine young man but Ailis too was in danger.  He cursed the powers that be for leaving Britannia in such a perilous state. He had known that Roman politics was dangerous when the Tribune and Livius had been arrested on a trumped up charge and almost suffered an Imperial death. He resolved that, once he had rescued his son he would have no more to do with the world of Roman politics but would dedicate his life to bringing up his son. Mounting his horse he smiled wryly to himself, how he would escape punishment to be able to do so was beyond him.  He looked up at the heavens and spoke to his dead friend Decius Flavius, “You always said I was better with my hands than my brain and you were right Decius but I have cast the dice and for good or ill this is my course.”

The miles flew by and the big man lived from his energy.  His child was in danger and nothing would stand in his way. The road and the terrain were so familiar to someone who had fought in this land for so many years. Riding was second nature to macro and he was able to ride and think at the same time.  He thought not of his pain but of his son lost and alone; if the Allfather would let him change places with his son then he would do so in an instant. When his horse began to foam, as he approached Vinovia, he rested. He found a small steam where his exhausted mount could drink and then he took her up to a secluded dell where he slept the sleep of the dead; a sleep haunted by a tiny child crying for his father to rescue him.

The Prefect and the ala had picked up the trail of the raiders and found the group led by Manus. Livius recognised the huge man from the crossing of the Dunum. “This is the band that raided the jet mines.  They have no captives and they were not the ones who took Ailis.”