Hosker, G [Sword of Cartimandua 09] Hero of Rome (3 page)

The tavern was crowded with men who had successfully concluded their business and were celebrating.  Caronwyn knew that there would be no women in the vicus and their appearance would attract attention. They slipped into the crowded room and made their way to the barrel of a man who was obviously the owner. The room hushed as the two of them entered. Caronwyn had already rubbed herbs under her eyes to make them weep.  The owner began to make his way towards them. “Out!”

“Oh sir, take pity on a widow and her daughter.  Have you no work for two hard working unfortunates such as us?  My mother is a good cook and I am a diligent worker.” The hood over her head prevented the tavern keeper from getting a good view of the girl but he could see that the older one was a hag who would not be able to earn a little extra for him as his workers had to serve drinks and entertain the customers.

“Go, before I have you thrown out!”

Caronwyn and Morag left, having done their work; they had seen all the eyes, including their two targets, watching and listening.  Once outside Caronwyn began to make herself look more attractive, lowering her hood and pinching her cheeks. They waited patiently for their targets to emerge. The other traders and visitors who left assiduously avoided them which suited Caronwyn. As soon as she saw Gaius leave she prostrated herself before the two men.  “Oh please sir, take pity on a widow and her only child!” Her green eyes flickered beneath her long lashes and Gaius felt himself become aroused. 

Antoninus was about to wave them away, much as the tavern keeper had done when Gaius said, “We need a cook father.  The slop the slaves serve is not fit for our pigs.”

Antoninus was not convinced. “I will go to the slave market and buy a better one then.”

Morag held her hands out in supplication. “Sir, we are free, we will work for seven nights for no pay and if you do not like my food we will leave and you can then buy yourself a slave.  What have you to lose?  All we need is a roof under which to sleep and food.”

Gaius turned to his father.  “What have we to lose?  If the hag cannot cook then we throw her out.”

Antoninus shrugged. “Very well.” He pointed to their cart.  “Get aboard the cart you have three days and nights to impress me!”

Caronwyn nodded gratefully.  “Do not worry sir.  You will not regret your decision.” She had succeeded in the first part of her plan. Now she would need to work on the young man and find out what the curious hovel contained.  That would have to wait until she next visited the vicus. It was important that they spend the next three days impressing Antoninus and, once established in the home, they could begin to manipulate the two men.

Morag had not lied, her food was excellent, and within two days Antoninus had decided that they would be an asset to his home.  He could begin to entertain the other minor chiefs who had also turned to trade. His home was the most impressive one outside of Eboracum but hitherto he had been unable to invite others there because of the paucity of the food.  Now he saw an opportunity to build his power base.

For his part Gaius was besotted with the lovely Caronwyn. Once ensconced in the villa she had discarded the dirty and dishevelled look she had adopted and used every wile taught to her by her mother to enhance her beauty and attraction. The herbs and perfumes she used to improve nature’s bounty proved too much for Gaius. His eyes followed her around the room and his body told him that he wanted her. Had she been a slave then he would have taken her the first day but she was free. He approached his father to ask his advice.

Antoninus smiled; he remembered when he had been a lusty youth and he understood the young man’s attraction.  He too had felt his slightly more ancient loins stir when the lovely auburn haired vision served their food making what was delicious seem like ambrosia. “You will have to woo and court her.”  He shrugged apologetically. “It is the way of women.  They need to be assure of your continued affection. Speak kindly to her, take her for walks, and bring her flowers.  You are a fine young man and she will soon do your bidding.”

So Gaius began his courtship.  Caronwyn for her part knew how to play the virgin and she fluttered her long eyelashes and giggled at every inanity which came from the Brigante mouth. Inside she was cheering for she knew that within a few days he would be under her spell and she would be able to create her own rebellion.

Chapter 2

Julius Demetrius felt strange as he stepped from the boat at Eboracum this was not just down to the crossing from Germania which had been rougher than the seas in the Mare Nostrum.  The main reason was it had been many years since he had left the shores of Britannia. It smelled and felt very different even from Germania Inferior which he had just left and a world away from his villa at Surrentum.  It was, somehow, greener.  He couldn’t explain it.  More importantly it felt like coming home. As he stepped from the bireme he regretted, not for the first time since he had left Rome, that he had not brought Hercules and his own ship, The Swan. It was somehow reassuring to have the old sea captain looking after him.  He decided that he would send a message back to Ostia and have the old man bring the ship here. It struck the senator that travelling by ship would save much pain from the backs of saddles. He left instructions for his baggage to be sent to the fortress; his Imperial warrant ensured that there would be no thefts.

As he walked through the vicus he noted the changes in the old legionary fortress.  The vicus was enormous and seemed to spread over a large area.  The fortress itself now had dressed stone replacing the wooden palisade he remembered.  The towers looked solid and, unlike Rome itself, bristled with ballistae and scorpions.  This was a frontier fortress. The sentries were auxiliaries this time and he wondered when the Sixth legion would arrive. Hadrian had ordered it to leave Vetera but Julius was certain that the Emperor would wait until the province had settled down a little more before the reliable force was despatched to police yet another frontier. The sentries recognised the senatorial purple and, almost before he had flashed his warrant, had allowed him speedy entry.

The Prefect, Octavius Saturninus, had been expecting the Senator for a few days. He was wary of the politician for he knew him to be an intimate of the Emperor, a friend of the new Governor and, more importantly, he knew the area well having served as a cavalryman. He was unusually impressed when he met the man for the first time.  He looked far younger than his real age and did not affect the mannerisms of a courtly man.  His first words put the nervous Camp Prefect at his ease. “Sorry to have to put you out Camp Prefect. I know that having your own quarters is a perk of the posting and I promise I won’t be a nuisance for too long; when the Governor returns I shall head north to Coriosopitum.”

Octavius was taken aback, how did this newly arrived visitor know that the Governor was inspecting the frontier? Julius saw his look and smiled. “I am no magician Prefect.  The Emperor told me that the Governor would not be in residence for our task is not in Eboracum but north where we intend to build some
limes
.”

The Prefect sighed with relief.  “And about time too sir.  We have had too many raids in the past few years and not just from the north but across the sea.”

Julius leaned forward.  “I had not heard that report. Whence do these raiders come?”

“From the icy lands north of Germania.  They have fast boats and they raid for slaves and booty.  The fleet is too thinly spread to stop them.  You may not have heard because the last Governor thought it merely an inconvenience.”

Bradua again! “You did not share his views I take it?”

The Prefect was a military man and not a politician but he felt, instinctively, that he was speaking to another man with a strategic brain. “The raids made the people worried and that means less productive. Also we had to react to the raids ….”

“But you would have had men closer to the coast to prevent them?”

“Just so.” The Prefect was right Julius Demetrius knew his stuff.

“The Ala we despatched is it still based at Morbium?”

“No the Decurion Princeps moved it to Coriosopitum to be closer to the Votadini and Selgovae.” He looked keenly at the Legate. “You know him I believe?”

Julius smiled at the diplomatically phrased question.  The real question was,
’is this one of your favourites
?’ “Lucius is a good friend and I served with him but, to put your mind at rest, I have no self interest in the officer. He is to be promoted to Prefect rather than appointing one from Rome.”

“That makes a change;  a sensible appointment.” Realising that he might have spoken out of turn he blushed and held up his hand.  “Sorry sir, that just came out.”

“Don’t worry about it Prefect.  You will soon learn that I did not take to politics and duplicity.  I still prefer those who speak the truth and their mind.  And now…” He stood and spread his hands, “I assume there are quarters for me?”

Relieved the Prefect stood, “With the Governor still on his travels his quarters are available.”

“Excellent. Lead on.”

******

Governor Falco was impressed with his frontier troops.  He had been worried about the lack of a legion this close to the frontier but, having spent a month travelling the Stanegate, he knew that the auxiliary soldiers based there were sound troops who were well led.  He was worried about the strength of the opposition to Roman rule. In Moesia, where he had been governor, and in Rome where he had received his orders, he had been led to believe that Britannia was a conquered province and people. He now knew that to be false. He could not understand why a succession of Emperors had taken away good legions to fight abroad. Had the province been peaceful there may have been a reason but he was under no illusions, this was a war zone. He looked at the officer next to him, Decurion Princeps Livius Lucullus Sallustius.  He had been told of the man’s exploits before he arrived, the way he had thwarted an invasion, his time as an Explorate, his adventures in Aquitania and a vague rumour about Capreae and the Emperor Hadrian but nothing had prepared him for the modesty of the man. He had waved away the compliments for his exploits and pointed out that it was the ala and their officers which deserved the credit.

“Yet I understand that when you took command there was resentment from some of the former officers? And you have had to recruit most of the men in the ala as the numbers were so depleted?”

“There were a couple of officers who took exception to the new role but the majority of troopers performed as well as any men I have ever commanded.” The Governor admired the loyalty of the commander to his men, it spoke well of him.

Pompeius looked over his shoulder at the column of men who followed them.  They looked confident and alert. Although they had not seen any problems the Governor knew that they would be able to deal with any attack or ambush. “Decurion Princeps if you were me how would you use the ala?”

“Good question. I served in Britannia with Marcus’ Horse and the Prefect then knew that we would only need the one thousand troopers together in a major battle.  The best way to use us would be to divide it into turmae and give a specific area for a pair to patrol.  We could easily join together should the occasion demand but we could cover a greater area.” He waved his arm at the men following. “While we are together then barbarians could easily slip over the frontier and create chaos.”

A mischievous smile appeared on the Governor’s face. “Sorry Decurion Princeps for tying down your whole command.”

Behind them Cassius hid the laugh behind his hand.  He wanted to see how his friend and leader got out of that one. “No sir.  It is important that we are together now for this tour.  It would not do to have a new Governor killed or captured and besides it makes a statement to the tribes hereabouts that we are still a force to be reckoned with.  They have few cavalry themselves and we are warriors whom they respect and fear.” He spoke proudly but without bravado, stating the facts.

“It is what I heard and fear not we will be heading back to Morbium tomorrow. Once there I will return to Eboracum and meet with the other Legate, Julius Demetrius. A friend of yours I believe.”

“Oh yes sir.  And he served in Marcus’ Horse so he knows how we ought to be used. I am pleased that the Emperor has appointed two such Legates.”

From another officer he would have thought that this was flattery but he had spoken with the Emperor before he left and knew that Lucius Sallustius was that rare bird, a warrior who led well and was modest. “I agree with your assessment but I feel that Coriosopitum is too far east for your ala to be truly effective.  I would suggest somewhere closer to the centre of the Stanegate.”

Livius thought about it for a while and then said, “Perhaps closer to Vindolanda.  There are a few sites, as I recall where we might be based although, as I said earlier, I intend to split the ala up into eight sections and spread them further apart.  In the last couple of years the problems have not been with full invasions but incursions by warbands. My troopers are quite adept at building smaller camps and using them as a base but I will do as you suggest and build a fort closer to Vindolanda.”

“It was only a suggestion Decurion Princeps.  I am no cavalryman and this country is certainly different from Moesia. Here I am the novice.”

“And it was a good suggestion.  When we patrolled against the Votadini we spent too long just travelling to our patrol points. This is more efficient.”

Macro and Marcus were riding together at the rear of the column.  They shared a turma although, with the death last year of the traitor Spartianus, Livius had made it clear that they would both be promoted soon.  Despite the fact that they were both young even the older troopers respected them.  In Macro’s case it was because he was the best fighter in the ala and in Marcus’ case it was because he wielded the Sword of Cartimandua and could master any horse, no matter how wild. He now had two turmae who had sworn a blood oath to protect the sword and its bearer.  Marcus felt honoured with the accolade.