Hosker, G [Sword of Cartimandua 11] Roman Treachery (11 page)

When the first one stumbled Rufius yelled, “Secure him!” He heard, rather than saw the two troopers stop and wrestle the scout into submission.  Two more fell this way until Decius and Julius loomed ahead of the fleeing men; they saw not two warriors but more of the hated horse warriors who would kill them.  Four of them tried to attack the two troopers but Decius casually slew them with his long spatha and Julius made his first kill.  The others were too exhausted to fight and they prostrated themselves on the ground. “Bind them!”

As his men secured the prisoners Rufius signalled Decimus and Decius to join him.  “Did you see any others Decimus?”

“No sir, these wee the only ones.  When we heard your hooves we knew they were heading our way.”

“Good.  We will continue east and scout the wall gap.  These prisoners can be interrogated later.”

The eight prisoners were tethered to a trooper each and led through the woods.  They were in no condition to struggle and Rufius kept up a steady pace to discourage any attempt at escape.

At the gap in the wall the third century of the Sixth Legion was toiling away in armour.  The latest attacks had meant that they could not strip off and work as they would have preferred.  Their piles of weapons were gathered in tent party groups and the centurion, Gaius Colonus felt the hairs constantly prickling on the back of his neck.  The brazen attack on the Gauls had shaken even the most experienced veteran and they worked with one eye on the forest. The ditch they were digging would, eventually, form the northern boundary of the Roman Empire but at the moment it seemed a little isolated to the centurion. The sooner they had finished the building and could get back to real soldiering, the better. He rubbed his neck.  It was becoming uncomfortable to have to keep looking over one’s shoulder to watch the forest. He turned to look again and this time saw a flash of white flesh which should not have been there. “Stand to! On me!” Grabbing his helmet he looked for the signifier as the legionaries quickly donned their weapons.  They had not seen the danger but the fact that Gaius Colonus had warned them was enough for them.

The Votadini raced from the tree line, their cover blown.  Unhampered by armour and any kind of order, they raced across the open ground to hurl themselves at the legionaries who were desperately trying to form a defensive line. “Lock your shields!” Colonus cursed the fact that they would not have time to get their javelins and would have to defend themselves with gladii only.  This would be a bloody business! The first Votadini threw himself at the rapidly forming shield wall and died at the hands of the centurion who chopped down at the unprotected neck, severing the head.  His momentum, however, caused him to knock over the legionary who had no one behind him to brace. The next Votadini exploited the gap.  The centurion and the optio were on opposite sides of the barbarians and they both urged their men to close the gap. The warriors were desperately throwing their own warriors into the shrinking gap and both sides were taking casualties.  Colonus could see that they were well outnumbered and the Votadini could afford a battle of attrition.  Well at least they would know they had been in a fight. “Come on ladies! These are fucking half dressed barbarians! Kill the bastards!”

Rufius heard the clash of metal and knew that meant trouble for someone and in this part of the world that someone would be Roman. He shouted to the men holding the prisoners.  “You men wait here.  The rest of you, javelins and ride like the wind is behind you!” The line spread out trying to make up the distance to the rear of the warband. Rufius gripped his knees and hurtled his javelin, watching with satisfaction as it thudded through the back of the surprised warrior. He drew his spatha and as, as the Votadini warrior turned to face him, cleaved his skull in two.  Around him his men were carving a path of death through the barbarians who were caught between two camps, defeating the vaunted legionaries and defending themselves from the unknown horsemen behind. They failed and the warband broke and scattered.

“Form a perimeter!” Rufius knew that they could return and he saw that the century had suffered many casualties.

The centurion mopped the blood from his scalp wound. “Nicely done, decurion.  You timed that well!”

“The Allfather smiled on you today.  We had prisoners and were heading for the gap.”

The centurion held out a gnarled and muscular arm.  “Whatever brought you here you have my thanks for I thought I had fought my last.”

It had been a close run skirmish and thirty of the century lay dead whilst another twenty had suffered wounds of one type or another. “I think, centurion that we can end the work for today and we will escort you back to the fort.”

“Aye and a beaker of something when we get back eh?”

“Decimus, fetch the prisoners.”

As the line of prisoners was brought from the forest one of the younger troopers, Publius approached Rufius.  “Sir, can I have a word please?”

“Yes Publius what is it?”

“Sir I can speak a little Votadini and when we were waiting in the woods I heard the prisoners talking to each other. Some of the other troopers wanted to stop them but I didn’t see the harm, they are little more than lads.”  Rufius disguised the smile at the young trooper’s words.  “Anyway one of them is the son of a chief, Iucher.”

“Which one?”

Publius pointed to a tall red haired youth who had a number of amulets around his upper arms.”Him sir.  I think this was a part of an initiation ceremony you know, watch the Romans and report back.”

“Well done Publius.  You take charge of the prisoners and let me know if they say anything else.”

Julius Demetrius was tired of the journeys to Eboracum and back. He longed for the simpler days when he had been a prefect of cavalry and had little else to worry about than a barbarian ambush.  He saw Rufius leading his patrol back into the fort with his strong of prisoners.  At last they would have increased ala support now that the Governor had released more turmae.

The legate slumped into the seat in the Principia.  Julius Longinus looked up from his work.  “Hard journey sir?”

“At my age every journey is hard. Is it my imagination or is it very quiet around the fort these days?”

“I will be glad to see the prefect and the men back sir.  I hate to say it but I do miss them.”

“I know what you mean.  They annoy the life out of you when they are there but when they are not…” The sound of a challenge and then hooves clattering into the fort alerted them to the arrival of horsemen and they both left the office.

Rufius’ face told the two men that he had something important to say.  “Legate.  I am glad you are here.  We have captured a war chief’s son.”

“Which one?”

“Iucher.”

The clerk looked in his lists and said, “His name was mentioned by those other prisoners.  He is one of the important warriors.”

“Well done Rufius.  Now, the question is how to use him to the best effect?” He offered Rufius a beaker of wine and continued, “You never met Julius Agricola did you?” Rufius shook his head.  “He was a brilliant general and a cunning leader.  He often avoided battles by holding hostage the families of his enemies.  Queen Cartimandua did the same. Bring me one of the other prisoners and someone who can speak their language.”

Rufius returned with a surly youth and Publius who seemed proud of his achievement. “This is Publius; he is the trooper who discovered the boy’s identity.”

“Well done Publius. Tell this one that we are going to let him go.” Publius looked surprised but Julius continued, “Just tell him son.”

Publius did so and the boy’s surly expression changed to one of suspicion. The boy said something in his own language and Publius said, “He asked why sir.”

“Tell him I want him to take a message to Iucher.” Even before the word was translated the boy’s eyes flashed back at the legate. “Well that confirms Iucher’s identity anyway.”

Publius translated and there was no change in the barbarian’s face.  He still looked suspicious.

“Tell Iucher that unless the attacks cease then I will execute the other boys, one by one.  I will crucify them.”

Publius showed surprise but he translated the words. The Votadini lurched forward; fortunately his hands were still tethered behind his back. He yelled something and Publius grinned as he said, “He doesn’t like you sir! I won’t translate what he wants to do with you but it isn’t pleasant.”

Julius laughed wryly. “Many barbarians have promised me such pain in the past.” He turned to Rufius. “Have Decius take him north of the wall and let him go.”

When Rufius returned he asked, “A bit of a risk sir.  What makes you think he won’t try to rescue the others?”

“Oh he might but if we can’t stop one youth from breaching our security then it is time to go home eh Rufius? We will know soon enough if we have succeeded.  According to Julius here they are attacking somewhere along the wall every day.  If we go two days without an attack then it means our threat is working and we will then have to worry about the father trying to rescue him. And hopefully the other turmae will be here soon and we might actually be able to do our job.”

Marcus and the four turmae arrived shortly before dark.  They had been slowed by the wagons they had escorted.  Now that the Governor wanted the wall facing they had had to ensure that there were enough materials to do the job.  Rufius looked at Felix and the dog. “New recruit Marcus?”

“A couple of scouts Drugi found for me.  This is Felix and the other is Wolf. This is Decurion Rufius.” Felix bowed formally while Wolf eyed the officer suspiciously. “Go with the other men Felix and they will show you where the stables are and your barracks.” Felix clicked his horse after the other troopers while Wolf sniffed everything his nose could reach.  “How are things?”

“Interesting.  We have a chief’s son as a hostage and the legate is threatening to kill him if the tribes don’t behave.  We will find out how successful a ploy it is in the next two days.”

Iucher took the news remarkably calmly.  The surly boy had told of the attack and their capture and Iucher had blamed himself for allowing his son to join such a reckless adventure. Torin was his only child, for the boy’s mother had died in childbirth and Iucher was loath to throw away his son’s life.  Besides which they had lost more men in the last few days and he wanted his warband to build up their numbers and then they could have a night time attack.  The first one had been so successful that it was worth repeating but this time it would be near the horse fort where his son was being held.  “I will travel south of the wall and visit our Brigante brothers. It is time they delivered what they had promised.”

Chapter 8

Briac was shocked to find Iucher and ten unhappy Votadini warriors waiting for him in his camp.  Not only were they unexpected, they had managed to evade his sentries and the Brigante chief felt foolish. “Chief Iucher, I was not expecting you.”

“No?  Perhaps that is because you have not delivered on your promises. The Romans on the wall are still well supplied and they still attack.  My son is now a hostage Briac.  What will you do about that?”

“I am sorry Iucher but the horse warriors have prevented us from stopping the wagons.  We intend to kill their leader.”

“Well do it quickly.  And what of my son?”

Briac chewed his lip. Suddenly an idea came to him.  “We could gain a hostage of our own.”

Iucher was intrigued. “It would have to be the son of one of their chiefs.”

“They have them not but there is a wife and she would make a valuable hostage.”

“How will you get her?”

“I told you, I have a spy in the fort.  I will go with some of my men and we will bring the hostages to you and you can take them back to exchange for your son.”

Iucher could see no flaw in the plan and, north of the wall his men were still gathering for an attack on the horse fort.  If this kidnap failed he would do it his way and sever his ties with the false Brigante. When the Romans fell he would deal with his faithless allies himself.”Very well. I will return to my people but our alliance depends upon the success of this operation Briac.  Make sure that you succeed.”

The spy was less than happy when he met with Briac and the other Brigante warriors. “You want me to kill the prefect and kidnap the Governor’s wife?  You do not expect much from me Briac.”

“Instead of a knife in the night we will use poison and all I need from you is to let the five of us in.  We will do the rest.  Your identity will still be safe.”

The spy relaxed a little, “You have poison?”

Briac handed over a small earthenware jug. “Pour this in the food he is to eat and he will die. We will strike tonight. Draw me a plan of the Governor’s quarters and where the guards are.”

As he did so the spy explained. “You will need to don Roman clothes for no-one will question you once you are inside.  I know how to get you inside too.  Bring a deer and tell the sentries that you come from the farm of Decius Aurelius, his brother serves in the ala and they are well know.  They will allow you in.  Bring it here,” he marked a place on the drawing, “to the kitchen and I will await you there.”

Livius preferred being on the road with his troopers and, being stationed at the fortress meant he was at the beck and call of the Governor.  He now knew why Julius had left as quickly as he had for the frontier. He had spent the whole afternoon poring over maps with Appius and the Governor so that the aide could find the putative copper mines as quickly as possible. The only advantage of being in the fort was the comfort of the dining arrangements.  He and his officers were able to eat in comfort with hot cooked food. Metellus and the others had finished their escort duties as Marcus’ journey north had meant that they, too, could spend a comfortable night in barracks and, perhaps, a night in the vicus.

“Have you managed to see Nanna yet Metellus?”

Metellus was too honest to lie and he and Livius shared a long history of working together.  Despite the difference in their ranks they were friends; a friendship forged in Aquitania when hunting Livius’ traitorous brother. “Yes, we always manage to call in, however briefly on our journeys north.”