Hosker, G [Sword of Cartimandua 12] Roman Wall (9 page)

“I never thanked you for saving my life, Felix.”

The youth grinned, “It was Wolf who found you and he swam to save you. Besides I could not let one of Marcus’ Horse die.  You are the oathsworn of the Sword.”

Rufius heard the tinge of sadness in the youth’s voice.  “You would like to be with the sword wouldn’t you?”

“It will return and I will be happy.”

Marcus and his turma were sent ahead of the main column to scout out the camp spotted by Rufius. He split them in two and approached from the north and the east.  He was taking no chances. It was obvious that there had been a camp there but equally obvious that it had been moved for at least a day and probably more.

Titus picked up a piece of burned firewood and threw it.  “It looks like we are too late sir. This is stone cold.”

“I think they left as soon as they were seen by Decurion Atrebeus.  He was lucky to escape with his life. We will take no chances.  Put a skirmish line out while we wait for the Prefect. “

While Titus organised the men Marcus dismounted and led his horse as he examined the ground.  Although not as good a tracker as either Felix or Rufius, Marcus had been an Explorate and trained by both Gaelwyn and Rufius.  He saw the unmistakeable tracks of a pair, at least, of caligae.  There had been a Roman in the camp.  That did not bode well. He would mention it to Livius as soon as he arrived. It confirmed Rufius’ report. The tracks showed that the caligae were kept in good repair.  These were the shoes of a soldier and not a deserter.

The small ship had left the mainland for Manavia the previous day.  As Briac and Severus stepped ashore they were greeted by Caronwyn who had been watching their approach. There was no hint of a frown as they abased themselves before her and Briac stuttered, “We were discovered and Severus thought it best if I returned here.”

She lightly laughed, “You worry too much Prince Briac. Severus is right.” She waved at the skies.  “Soon it will be autumn and the men will be needed for the harvests.  The Mother watches over us still. The Romans are suspicious but they will find nothing.”

Briac looked in surprise.  “How can you know that?”

“Your problem is that you do not believe deeply enough. I am a daughter of the Mother Earth and I see things hidden from mere men.  You are our tools to mould events into the shape we wish.  All will turn out well.  Come and we will see Severus’ mistress.”

Severus was not certain he liked being called a slave however prettily it was dressed but he had to admit, as they trudged towards the large round house, that the two women had both more sense and more ability than any officer he had known before.

Caronwyn seemed to notice the mail for the first time. “The weapons and the armour were well received?”

“They were.  My men now have the heart to believe we can meet the Romans equally.  But why did the Lady Flavia invest so much of her money in the weapons?  She can never recover their value even when we win.” He had been about to say if rather than when but he was learning how to speak to this most powerful of Druids.

“Like me, revenge burns fiercely in her heart but, fear not, the Lady Flavia will be rich when we reconquer our land. The Roman settlers have many treasures and they like to bury their gold beneath their homes.  When they are sacrificed to the Mother and we have ripped their stone abominations from the ground then we will reap the harvest of Roman gold.  We have learned that this love of gold can be put to good use.”

The Lady Flavia beamed when she saw Briac. He felt a surge through his body.  She was a beautiful woman and he realised that he desired her. That was impossible he knew.  She was far above him. He knew he was a rough and ready warrior and she was a powerful woman but he could dream.

As he sat between the two women and drank the strange brew concocted by Caronwyn and her acolytes, Briac found himself both relaxing and feeling more powerful and potent. Their words, and perhaps the drink, were transforming him. Caronwyn, in particular, seemed to be able to mesmerize with her words.

“You must put yourself in our hands, Briac, Prince of the Brigante. Let us plan and think for you. You and your men just need to fight.”

Part of Briac’s brain still remained his own. “But we still need more men.”

“And you shall have them. Even now I have my Druids casting through the tribes and sowing the seeds of rebellion and revolt. The tribes in the south will not fight but they do not like the taxes they pay to a government far away.  There will be many instances of minor disobedience. The Roman grip is looser in the land they think they have conquered.  That is in no small part due to you for your control over your men has lulled the Romans into a stupor. When the Romans are hunkered in their forts and their homes over winter then another enemy will attack them from within their own homes. We have those who prepare their food and watch over them.  They are loyal to our cause and willing to die for it.  There will be knives in the night and death at the table. All of this has been planned and foretold.”

The Lady Flavia stroked his head.  Her perfume and gentle touch intoxicated Briac almost as much as the powerful drink he was imbibing. “And I have placed servants and slaves in the homes of the Roman families who rule the land around the wall.” Her voice became briefly hoarse with emotion. “I learned how such devices can be very effective.”

“So you see Briac, you need to prepare this winter for a Brigante Spring.  Put yourself in our hands completely.”

Briac was suddenly aware that Caronwyn was now naked and she and Lady Flavia were undressing him. Lady Flavia leant down and kissed him lightly on the lips.  “And tonight we join the tribes and the priests under one roof. Tomorrow begins the dynasty which will rule this land.”

Briac finally succumbed to the brew and to the innate power of the two women.  That night he too became a follower of the Cult of the Mother.

Chapter 7

Rufius was summoned by the Legate two days after the ala had departed. “How are you healing, Decurion Atrebeus?”

“I am well recovered, Legate. I led my patrol this morning and there are no ill effects.”

“Good.  Good.” Rufius wondered at the Legate’s demeanour.  He had known Julius Demetrius since he had led the ala.  The Legate had no need to be delicate in his approach. The Legate seemed to read his mind for he smiled, “I know, Rufius that we go back a long way but I need to ask you something which requires an honest answer.”

“I believe I have always spoken the truth to you sir.”

“Ah but you may give me the answer you think I wish to have rather than the answer in your heart.”

Rufius laughed, “I think your time in Rome made you forget that the men of Marcus’ Horse were trained to give the honest answer to every question.”

Julius seemed relieved.  “That is what I wanted to hear.  The Prefect received a letter from his past just before you returned.” Rufius nodded.  Metellus had been intrigued by the box and the message and mentioned it to Rufius. “There is something in the land of the Votadini which could be used by Rome’s enemies.  You are an Atrebate and you know the power of torcs and symbols.” He lowered his voice, even though there was no-one to hear, “The regalia of the Iceni lie in the land of the Votadini.”

“And you would like me to get them back for you?”

Julius laughed, “I sometimes forget how quick the minds of the officers of this ala are. No, for that matter will need greater planning and must wait until the Prefect returns. What I would ask you and Felix to do would be to find out if there is a family of a warrior or prince called Ban in the land of the Votadini.”

“That is all?”

“It is a delicate matter and needs an Explorate to carry it out. We have no idea where this man lived.  It is over sixty years since he received the box and I cannot believe that he will still be alive. He was an important noble.  Someone may remember the family. But before I risk upsetting the Votadini with a military invasion I would know if the box still exists before I risk troopers.”

“Perhaps the Votadini use the regalia themselves.  They might harness its power.”

“If that was true then I believe that we would have heard rumours.  The fact that neither the Prefect nor I had heard of this means that the treasure is still hidden.”

“It may be that it is lost.”

“Then you will discover that and we will be able to forget the matter but if it exists then we require it to be south of the wall.  The last thing we need is for a magnet to draw rebels north of the wall.”

Rufius was an Atrebate and understood the significance of the regalia but he was also an intelligent officer. “Perhaps, sir, if it is still hidden we should leave it that way.”

“Had the Brigante not shown that they had a revolt planned then I might have agreed but this rebellion has the hand of the spawn of Morwenna guiding it.”

“I thought the witch and her daughter were dead?”

“We know not how many daughters she had.  Julius Longinus had studied the cult and knew that the priestesses of the cult liked to have many daughters.  He even told me that they strangled any boys who were born to them so that they could keep their purity. The Brigante had ever been ill served by the cult.”

“Then why do we not wipe it out?”

“That is harder than you might think.  When the sacred groves on Mona were destroyed we thought we had scotched the snake but it re-emerged on Manavia.  It is like the Hydra and has many heads.  When you cut off one head another appears.” He spread his arms.  “Will you accept the commission?  I do not order, I ask.  There will be no shame in a refusal.”

Rufius considered.  As an Atrebate he knew the significance of such royal accoutrements.  It would do much to bring the southern tribes more firmly into the Roman fold. If the north revolted then the south might become restless too.  He had not been back to his village and his family for years but he knew that they embraced the Roman way of life and a revolt would end in tears for them.

“I will do this. All I need to do is to find where the family of Ban live?”

“That is all.”

He nodded. “Who is the king of the Votadini now?”

He spread his hands, “We do not know. Since Lugubelenus was killed and Radha, his queen, disappeared we have heard little from them.  It seems they have hidden away their new royal family. Their king lives in the far north of the land at an oppidum called Traprain Law. He may be descended from a relative of Ban, we simply do not know.  Since we abandoned Alavna we have little intelligence from the region.” His face showed the disappointment he felt in his own actions. “The Votadini have been more peaceful than the Selgovae and I have not paid them as much attention as I ought.”

Rufius studied the map on the Legate’s wall and began to work out the best way to complete his mission. He had neither shaved nor cut his hair since his mission and he looked less like a Roman soldier.  He just needed a story for his presence north of the wall. He realised the Legate was watching him with amusement. “I am sorry Legate.  I was working out how best to do this.”

“There is a convoy of merchants who are travelling through Votadini country to trade with them.”

“Have the Votadini anything worth trading?”

“They have some fine sheepskins and they smoke fish. With winter approaching the merchants are keen to get some stock while they can. They are being escorted by some mercenaries.  You could accompany them.”

Rufius nodded, “That would help me. Tell me, Legate, is there any of the black stone from the south, the jet in the fort?” Sometimes the soldiers confiscated goods in lieu of taxes.  He knew that some had been taken earlier that month.

“I believe there is some.  Why?”

“The Votadini and the other northern tribes revere it. I could go as a jet trader.”

“I will get some.  There is a small box of it in Julius’ office. The convoy leaves in the morning.”

Rufius left to plan his trip.  He would not risk Felix and Wolf.  There was no need. Besides he owed a life already to the young Brigante. Honour demanded that he repay the Brigante before becoming indebted a second time.

Livius gathered the decurions around him. “The Legate wishes us to make our presence felt across the valley. In a perfect world we would travel south too but, with autumn approaching, I deem it prudent to let the Brigante know we are close. Each turma will be allocated a patrol area.” He smiled, “Decurion Princeps, you can have the area to the east of Via Trajanus and that way your turma can enjoy the comforts of your home for a night or too.”

Metellus showed his relief with a huge smile.  “Thank you, Prefect.”

“Marcus, you know the area around Stanwyck better than any and, I dare say that Drugi can be of some assistance to you.  As for the rest, you will be spread out from Metellus west in turma order.  I will accompany our newest Decurion, Sextus Decimus.”

Marcus was happy that he would see his family again but he knew that he would not allow it to interfere with his work. Of all the warriors in Marcus’ Horse the burden of duty sat heaviest on the young man’s shoulders. It was not just the sword but his adopted brother who rode beside him.  His new troopers always asked why he kept looking in the air when there were birds around.  They were told that the spirit of his step brother lived in a hawk. To those born in the land of the Brigante that made perfect sense.  The world of animals and man was intertwined; any fool knew that.

Marcus forced himself to visit with Drugi first.  He would not lay himself open to a criticism that he saw his family first. Even though the troopers were watching for the hunter he surprised them all when he appeared from the undergrowth. He bowed, “It is good to see you, lord.”

Marcus leapt from his mount and embraced his companion. “Old friend, having escaped from slavery there is no lord between us.  I am Marcus still and you are Drugi.”

He nodded, “What brings you here?”

“Rufius’ news of the training camp has meant that we need to find the weapons they are hiding. What have you heard?”

“Stanwyck is quiet and that is wrong. I have lived here long enough to know that it holds a place in every Brigante heart.”