Hosker, G [Sword of Cartimandua 12] Roman Wall (17 page)

The cook, modestly, did not appear when the swan, looking as though alive, arrived.  The slave carved choice portions for the officers and they waited until they had been served before, at a nod from Gaius Metellus Portus, they all tucked in. The taste was exquisite. Gaius had very refined taste buds and his tongue and mind struggled to identify the subtle under taste which lingered on his lips.  He swallowed and took a sip of the wine. He picked up another morsel and felt a savage pain in his stomach.  Had he eaten too quickly? The pain became even more intense.  It felt as though someone had reached into his stomach and was squeezing the life out of his insides. He looked and saw that every other officer was suffering the same. As the pain became so intense that he began to black out he realised that they had all been poisoned.

The second stage of the insurrection had begun.  The Brigante cook, placed there by the rebel Brigante, slipped out of the city and took a boat downstream.  There he would rejoin his master and fight the Romans.

When First Spear, Quintus Licinius Brocchus
,
was summoned he could not take in the scene.  Every senior officer save the Prefect and the Legate were dead. He watched as a feral cat slipped in and leapt to the table. A legionary went to move it but Decius Veridius waved his hand to stop him.  The cat began to eat the flesh of the swan.  After two mouthfuls it let out a squeal and began to tear at its own stomach. It died moments later.

First Spear nodded, “It looks like the food was poisoned.  Find the cooks and interrogate them.  Burn all this food.”

The legionary looked sadly at the wine.  “And the wine?”

“The stuff that has been opened, pour it away.  We can’t take the chance that it was poisoned too.”

The legionary nodded and the centurion did not notice the sly look on his face.  The man had seen two amphorae of red wine outside the dining room and they had not been opened.  He and his barracks would enjoy that wine later. He would not be disobeying orders.

The cook was not found and despite the tortures inflicted on the rest of the kitchen staff no one could say where the cook had gone. Quintus Licinius Brocchus sent the messages first to the Legate on the wall and then to the Governor. The VI
^th
was incapacitated.

The century managed to sneak the amphorae into their barracks unseen.  It cost them a jug or two in bribes but it was worth it. They knew their limitations and they knew what they liked.  They cut the wine two to one with water. It would last longer. Their actions saved many of them for the wine, too, had been poisoned.  The backup plan in case the poisoned food did not work had succeeded.  Stage three was in place and all over the northern half of the Roman Empire Flavia Gemellus’ expensive wine claimed high ranking Romans and influential tribal leaders.  The Celtic affection for their wine would cost them dear.

First Spear Broccus was exhausted by the time he went to bed.  He had to write more reports and send more messages in one day than in the last month.  He had checked the gates of the fort and no one could get in or out. The sentries had all been doubled and there was an armed guard on all of the food.  He was taking no chances.  All of the officers and senior officials might be dead but so long as he was in command then Eboracum would not fall. He had even taken the precaution of putting a sentry outside his quarters. He almost fell on to the bed and was asleep before his head hit the pillow.

Septimus Gaius Agrippa had ambitions.  He would be an optio soon.  The fact that First Spear had chosen him to guard his quarters was evidence of that.  No Brigante warrior would get past him.

He heard First Spear snoring and smiled to himself. It sounded like a bull breaking wind.  Suddenly he caught a whiff of perfume and his smile turned to a frown. One of the slaves appeared with a goblet of wine.  She was a slave, that was clear but Septimus had never seen such an attractive one before.  His eyes could not help but take in every uncia of her form.

He put his arm out. “Where do you think you are going?”

“It is for First Spear. He ordered it.”

“Well he is asleep so off you go.”

She looked disappointed and her eyes widened. If you do not trust me then you can give it to him.”

Septimus began to wonder if First Spear had ordered it.  He did not wish to damage his chances by upsetting the centurion. “How do I know it isn’t poisoned?”

She lifted it to her full red lips and she drank a mouthful.  “See. Taste it yourself.”

The legionary decided he would taste it and then, after he had sent her away, he would place it next to the sleeping centurion.  That way he would have protected First Spear and yet not annoyed him. He took the goblet with his right hand.  As he did so the razor sharp dagger was ripped across his throat. It happened so quickly that he felt nothing. The last thing he saw was the blood spurting and the slave girl grabbing the goblet before it fell from his lifeless fingers.

She was stronger than she looked and she lowered the body to the ground. After placing the goblet next to the body she slipped through the door as silently as a puff of wind. She saw the huge Roman lying on his back.  He was snoring so loudly she could have marched in the room wearing caligae. She stepped closer.  He had his left arm across his neck and appeared to be sleeping on his right. She could not cut his throat.  She knew she had to kill him quickly and so she turned the blade and raised it.  She would drive it through his eye and into his brain.

The very perfume, which had so captivated the dead legionary, woke the centurion. He was awake in an instant.  He saw the dagger and swept his left arm to knock it away.  The edge scored a deep cut along his arm. He whipped out the gladius which was in his right and drove it so hard that it entered her stomach and came out of her back.

He dropped the corpse to the floor. Although he had written many orders that day he would write one more.  No slaves within the walls of the fortress!

When Julius Demetrius received the reports he summoned his prefects. “We are under siege.  The attacks have begun.  We have the road to Eboracum which is open and that is all.  The VI
^th
cannot help us yet and I am convinced that we will be assailed from the north.”  He pointed to the map. “Prefect, I want your Thracians to keep the road open. I know that you are at half strength but if the road closes then we are doomed.  Eventually the VI
^th
will come to our aid but until then we are on our own.”

The Thracian Prefect nodded.  His ala had been badly handled the previous year and he only had ten turmae. None of them was at full strength. He just hoped that his men would cope.

“I intend to use the other auxiliaries to hold the wall.  The Cohors Equitata from the 1
^st
Batavorum will keep the Stanegate open. I want every mile castle double manned. They will attack the wall.”

There was silence as the prefects realised that they were besieged in the largest fort in the world.

“And us sir?”

Julius looked sadly at Livius, “And you, Prefect, will be the force which takes the war to the enemy.  You will not wait behind the wall you will attack the barbarians. I want your ala to keep the barbarians guessing.”

The Batavian prefect was a horseman himself, “Sir, it is not cavalry country north of the wall.  It is forest and thick forest at that.  They will be slaughtered.”

“No, Prefect, they will not.  Besides we need the ala to cover all ninety miles of the frontier.  Only cavalry can do that.”

“What about the Classis Britannica sir? They could secure the two ends of the wall and supply us.”

“I have sent a message to the Navarchus and I am sure that the Arbeia end will be secure.  I am less certain about the other end of the wall.  It will take ships some time to get there.”

Livius had been studying the maps.  “Sir, I think that when this is over we should do something about Manavia.  All of our troubles emanate from there.”

Julius laughed. “There you are, gentlemen, the prefect of the ala who is given the suicide mission is already planning what to do once we have defeated the enemy.  Take that back to your men. This is a setback only! We will hold this wall for the Emperor Hadrian but remember these rebels are armed as well as we are.  I dare say they are already using the weapons they captured from our slaughtered garrisons.  The difference will be that your men are disciplined and theirs are not. Make sure you have plenty of water and supplies laid in.  I am not sure when we can be resupplied.” He looked at the Thracian Prefect.  “That all depends upon our Thracian friends.”

“We will not let you down.”

Livius did not relish the job he was giving his officers.  They were like family to him and he knew that they would struggle to complete the mission.  His comment to the Legate had not implied confidence in his own success and survival.  He assumed that he and his men would die but he wanted the evil that was the Mother Cult wiping out. Their one avowed intent was to destroy the world of Rome.  You could not argue with such an attitude.  It had to be eradicated.

He and Metellus had already had a meeting and come up with a plan, of sorts.

“First I intend to take two men from each turma. They will form a reserve here, at Cilurnum, under my command.  You will all have to function with just thirty men.  We are luckier than the Thracians for we have a full muster.  They have not.  We will use the same method as we did when scouring the Dunum.  Each turma will operate separately.  We have two functions; one is to scout the enemy and the second is to disrupt and attack whenever possible.  The auxiliary cohorts on the wall will be dug in. We will operate further from the wall. You will need to forage for yourselves. I know that we will become tired and so I intend for each turma to be out for just six days and then return.  To ensure that we have constant patrols putting their spears into the enemy backs we will stagger the start of each patrol.”

He glanced at Metellus who stood. “Rufius, Marcus and Marius will leave in the morning. They will head for the west and Luguvalium.  They will only have four days on patrol for theirs is the furthest area.  I will leave the day after with Lentius and Cassius.  Julius Longinus here has the rest of your assignments. The other turmae will be on standby in case the enemy breaks through.”

Cassius asked, “Sir, all the trouble has been in the south.  What makes you think that they will attack from the north?”

“The reason is because they are attacking in the south. They want us to draw our forces south to counter these new attacks and allow the northern tribes to attack a weakened wall. The VI
^th
are in the south.  They can handle the Brigante revolt.”

What they could not know was that the VI
^th
had lost too many men and officers to be able to function immediately. Caronwyn had been crafty; they had negated the VI
^th
to have a free rein in the east. The wall was almost cut off already.

Marcus looked over at Metellus.  “Sir, our families are in the valley.  What of them?”

Livius did not enjoy this. “The Thracians are guarding the Via Trajanus although I prefer the legionary name for it, Via Hades.  I will ask their Prefect if he can watch over them.” He shrugged, “It is the best I can do.”

Marcus was not happy but he was an officer of Marcus’ Horse and he would do his duty.  They had warned Frann and his mother of the danger.  Now it would be up to Drugi and the men of the farm. They would have to protect them as best they could. Sometimes Marcus cursed his sense of duty.

Rufius had less of a problem with his new wife. She and her men were close enough to the fort to seek shelter should events turn out badly. Even so, before he left he sought out Scealis, “The frontier is on fire. I go to fight the Selgovae.  Watch over my wife for me.” Scealis nodded although he had needed no urging from this Roman warrior to do so.  He owed Lord Ban duty even though the old man was dead. “If you are attacked you can seek shelter in the fort.” He saw the look on Scealis’ face.  “I know that you would fight these men but Mavourna…”

“We will protect her. You can trust us Roman. And, Roman, take care, you are a fine man and I would see your children when they are born.”

Chapter 13

The three turmae left through the northern gate. Rufius wanted to get as far north as possible before they turned west. He guessed that the barbarians would be massing close by the wall. Felix and Wolf came with them. The scout and his dog had trotted silently into the forests before dawn. As Rufius led the three turmae up the road he saw Wolf and his master waiting patiently for them. 

He reported quickly. “There is a band of warriors to the south of us. They are in a camp.”

“How many are there?”

“They number an ala.”

Rufius turned to Marcus, “That is over a thousand then. Are there any ponies?”

“A handful.”

“Mount up, Felix.” A trooper handed the reins of the pony they had brought for him. Rufius detailed a trooper to take the news of the band to the Prefect.

Rufius was the senior decurion and he took the decision. “We might as well begin our war here. We will attack them and then head west.  They will expect us to return to the wall and we will confuse them.” He looked at the two decurion. “We hit and run. We cannot afford to lose men but we must keep them off balance and looking over their shoulder.”

Marcus nodded, “When we strike in the west they will think we have more men than we do have.”

“That is what I am counting on. Lead on, Felix.”

The ninety horse warriors plunged into the forest.  It was not closely grown and they could manoeuvre their horses easily. There was new growth on all of the trees but it was not the dense canopy it would become in summer.  Then this journey would be like a passage through the underworld.

Wolf’s pricked ears told them when they were close to their prey. Felix slid from his pony.  Rufius silently signalled the five archers to go with Felix. They knew their job without being told.  They would silence any sentries.