Hosker, G [Sword of Cartimandua 04] Roman Retreat (24 page)

BOOK: Hosker, G [Sword of Cartimandua 04] Roman Retreat
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Julius walked over to Macro and put his hand on his shoulder. “Decius is dead.  He was murdered earlier on today.”

The two turmae paled as a man.  They felt so guilty having been so happy while the whole time the popular Decius had been dead.  Gaius dismounted and put his arm around Macro. “You couldn’t have known Macro.  Decius would have understood.”

Julius said, very quietly, “It is worse than that come to my quarters, this needs a little privacy.”

When they were in the headquarters with all the Decurions stood to the side Gaius noticed that they looked not at him but solely at Macro.  “There is no easy way to tell you this Macro so I will have to come out with it. Morwenna murdered Decius.”He paused to let that world shattering news be absorbed, then he added the other, equally terrifying news. “She is the daughter of Fainch the witch and she has fled with three Caledonii warriors.”

Afterwards Gaius went over Macro’s reaction in his head; he curled up in a ball and began, very slowly to cry, his sobs becoming louder and louder.  No-one knew what to do.  These were warriors and tears were for women but they all understood the bog man’s pain.  They looked away, at the ground, at Julius, in fact anywhere but at Macro. It was Gaius himself who put the arm around his friend’s shoulder and allowed his tears to course down his cheeks. As he cried Julius explained what had happened. He had expected Macro to question the story but the death of Decius appeared to have sucked the spirit from him.

“Decius thought she must have been a spy.  It makes sense.  It would explain how they attacked this fort so quickly and how their attacks intensified when we began to withdraw from Alavna.”

“What now Prefect?”

“I will have to send a report to Eboracum for the Tribune and the Governor. After that…” he shrugged his shoulders.

“Macro I promise you that Ailis and I will raise your son as though he were our own.”

Macro looked up his eyes cold and dead. “What son? I have no son. He died with Decius.”

 

The Legate, when he arrived, brought with him the four cohorts raised by the Governor. He arrived unexpectedly at Coriosopitum and, were it not for the forces he brought with him, Julius might have been tempted to think they were Caledonii in disguise. Even the calm and studious Prefect was shocked at the disclosures. “But sir, Marcus Aurelius Maximunius is the most loyal soldier in Britannia.  If it were not for him then the Caledonii would now be here.”

“You have a high opinion of him but he has been implicated in a plot.”

“You are a soldier Legate.  Do you think Marcus is a traitor?”

“What I think is irrelevant.  It is the Emperor’s decision.”

Julius looked into the Legate’s eyes and said coldly, “You are wrong!”

“Do you question me sir? Be careful or you will join your friend.” The Legate looked at the Prefect and saw an over promoted young man.  He was insubordinate!

Julius felt his fellow officer’s presence behind him. “Do not threaten me with your empty gestures.  You are in a land you know not.  You have thrown the finest warrior in the land to the wolves and there is not an auxiliary unit in Britannia which does not love and respect Marcus Aurelius Maximunius. Until you present me with proof neither me nor my men will believe these lies.”

For the first time in his life the Legate was worried.  The Decurions behind the Prefect looked every bit as determined as their leader. The young pup had appeared to him to be a soft patrician with no backbone but suddenly he felt threatened and his ten Centurions would be of no use if this ala took it into their heads to end his life now. “Are you threatening a Legate of Rome?”

Julius stepped very close to the Legate and spoke very quietly. “Rome is many miles away from here sir and the Emperor a vague memory.  Marcus Aurelius Maximunius is not and you have made a grave error.  When you lead these men into battle will you be looking over your shoulder or will you lead from the rear?  You have yet to fight the Caledonii. Yesterday two of my turmae destroyed a large warband not ten miles from here so do not talk to me of threats. I ask you again; do you think him a traitor?”

At that moment Cornelius would gladly have struck down the arrogant young pup but the battle hardened officers in front of him left him in no doubt that he would have died in an instant had he done so. “No I do not.”

“Then will you write to the Emperor and tell him so?”

“It will not make a difference.”

“Then it will cause you no harm to do so and might win the loyalty of the very men you are to lead into battle for believe me Tribune Sura and Tribune Strabo love and honour Marcus Maximunius as much as we do.”

There was a pause and the Centurions looked nervously around. These barbarians were not the soft garrison troops they had seen before and, in a fight, the Centurions were no longer confident of victory.  The tension in the room was almost palpable and the only one who seemed calm was the Prefect. “My men sir, are but a step away from barbarians.” He smiled. “To them there is no greater honour than to die with a sword in their hand and to die for their king. Marcus Aurelius Maximunius is their king.  Think on that Legate.”

“Very well I will write the letter but I will not forget this meeting.”

“I hope not Legate for, until Marcus is returned to us, you will find that the auxiliaries of Britannia will be, “he paused dramatically, “unpredictable.”

The next day the Legate demanded an escort to take him to the border.  As Julius scanned the faces of his decurions he could see that none of them relished escorting a man they despised, a man, in their view without honour. “Decurion Septimus you will escort the Legate with your turma.” Julius lowered his voice, “And Septimus, cooperate.” The decurion looked quizzically at the Prefect.  “Take him along the road not the back trails and protect him.  The last thing the ala needs is for the Legate to come to harm whilst under its protection.”

As the Legate left Julius summoned Gaius.  “Take your turma to Eboracum I have a message I need to send by boat.  While there find out what you can about Marcus, Livius and the Governor.  I am also interested in the whereabouts of the Governor’s wife and his nephew.  You will also need to tall all the posts about Morwenna. When you have completed that you may return to Morbium.  Spend time with your wife I believe the two of you will have some decisions to make.”

Gaius looked across at Macro who had barely spoken since his return.  “Could I make a request?”

“Of course.”

“Let me take Macro with me.  I know him better than any now and he may listen to me.  He should be part of the conversation with Ailis for it is his son we discuss.”

“You are right and I apologise.  I should have thought of that.”

Giving a wry smile Gaius added, “I think you have enough to think on having put the Legate’s nose out of joint.  I can see the ala being given all the most dangerous and challenging roles in the spring campaign.”

“I thought we always received those anyway.”

“True prefect, true.”

The snow had begun to melt as they made their way south.  Their road took them on a ridge which was windswept and bleak. Below them in the valley sides they could see tendrils of smoke as the settlements went about their daily routine.  Gaius wondered if they even thought about the Romans and the security they brought.  He remembered twenty years ago when this region suffered raids from Ireland and Caledonia, when people lived in constant fear.

The turma had dropped back from the two Decurions allowing them some privacy. Each trooper felt for Macro.  They knew that Decius had been very close to both Macro and Gaius. “You are going to have to talk about it sometime.”

Macro shot a sharp look at his friend.  “I am not ready yet.”

“Well that is fine then.  Continue to mope and feel sorry for yourself after all the ala doesn’t need a weapons training officer, your turma does not need their leader back and the Prefect doesn’t need his charismatic warrior leading his men.”

“You don’t understand.”

“What don’t I understand?  Listen you arrogant brute, was I not Decius’ friend as much as you?” He intended the words to sound harsh and they did.

“Yes but your wife did not kill him!”

“He is dead, murdered, whoever struck the blow. Is this what this is all about? You blame yourself for his death?”

“Who else can I blame?  She was my wife.”

“And you, of course, knew that she was Fainch’s daughter?”

“Do not be ridiculous; how could I have known?”

“Precisely.  And I met her and did not know. Gaelwyn met her and did not know. It seems like the only one who did see the resemblance was Decius and, I suspect, that had he met her then Marcus would have known.”

They rode in silence for some time the only sound coming from the horse’s hooves on the stone road. “I will have to kill her.”

Shaking his head Gaius said, “Did Marcus kill her mother?”

“He ordered her death.”

“Yes and that is the difference. If you kill her it will be murder.  How would your son view that? When we catch her, and we will, then she will be punished by Rome, not by Macro.”

“Well I will look for her then.”

“And she will have won, for if you spend your time looking for her you cannot fight Britannia’s enemies. I have no doubt that her aim is the same as her mother’s.  She wishes us to die and Rome to be gone. Make that your aim.  Make Britannia safe for your son, and my children and Ailis who is now your son’s mother.”

Macro sat upright in his saddle, his shoulders no longer slumped.  He had forgotten his son.  His son would be Decius, he would shower his boy with all the affection he had given Morwenna. “Thank you Gaius and thank Ailis.”

“I have not yet asked my wife to continue to care for your son but I know my wife and I believe that she will give him as much love as her own children.” He paused and pondered whether to remind Macro of his rash words in the Prefect’s office. “So you have a son now?”

Smiling for the first time since he had heard the terrible news he said quietly, “Yes and thank you Gaius for reminding me that being a father is important.”

 

At that moment Morwenna was less than ten miles from Macro and the turma. The isolated hut where they had spent the night was tucked away in the fell side.  The couple who had lived there lay outside, murdered. The four of them had not needed to kill the couple but, as Morwenna had said, they needed to mask their trail and they could not risk the couple reporting their passing to the Romans.

“We need to get home, back to Lulach and give him the news.”

“And I need to find shelter for the winter while I plan my next steps.”

“Will you not return with us north?”

“Eventually I will but there are things I need to do now.  Come with me west and then head north.”

“Why?”

“They will look for you north.  In the west it will be easier to pass their patrols.”

Aodh had already decided to do as the young witch asked for he was falling under her spell.  As with her mother she had a power which commanded loyalty.  He determined that he would serve her as long as necessary. “Very well we head west.”

Morwenna smiled at Aodh and touched his cheek. “Thank you.  I will not forget your loyalty.”

 

Marcus and Livius were just grateful to be on land once more.  It was not dry land and, as they trudged through mud, their captors gave them neither sympathy nor shelter from the harsh rains and wind.  As far as the guards were concerned they needed little for they were dead men walking. Tethered behind the wagon they could at least talk. “I am sorry to have brought this upon you Marcus.”

“You did nothing.  I am not even sure that your uncle did anything. The evidence the Legate gave was flimsy to say the least. Governors have been taking a little for themselves since they first came to Britannia and, even had he wished it, he could not have rebelled against Rome.”

“Why not?”

“Because of the very people he thought he could count on.  Us.  Cominius and Furius would never have rebelled and I know the legions; soldiers like Decius Brutus would have fought against the Governor.  Your uncle had about as much chance of rebelling as I have of becoming Emperor.”

“Then why are we here and why was my uncle arrested?”

“The Legate was given a job.  If he did not find treachery then he had no job.  Do you think he will conduct a better campaign than Cominius and Furius?” Livius shook his head. “No.  It is politics.  The Legate may have been a soldier but he has forgotten the soldier’s code.  He is now serving himself.”

When they arrived at the town they found themselves in a city which was bigger than Eboracum. The only acknowledgement they had of their existence was the guard of the cell block putting his thumb on the wax tablet. The cell they were thrown into had only a tiny aperture to let in light.  They were hurled to the straw and faeces covered floor.  As Livius tripped over a warm form he heard a moan.  As their eyes became accustomed to the light they saw the bloodied figure of Sallustius Lucullus.

“Uncle.”

“Is that you Livius?”

As they peered at him in the half light they could see that his eyes had been removed as well as his fingernails. “It is uncle, and Tribune Marcus Maximunius.”

“What are you doing here? Wherever here is.”

Marcus spoke for Livius was almost in tears at the sight of his uncle.  Would he end up looking the same? “We are in Germania Inferior and we are here because we have been accused of joining in your plots against the Emperor.”

“What a fool I was! I am sorry.  I know that sounds pathetic and weak but there is nothing else I can say.” Marcus could not help but agree.  “My wife?”

“She has disappeared along with your nephew Decius.”

Sallustius laughed sardonically.  “The two people who have acted honestly and nobly throughout this are in a prison cell and those who helped betray me are free.  The Gods must be laughing at me now.”

“What is to happen to you?”

He shrugged, all hope gone. “After they extracted the confession, they left me.  I overheard one of the guards tell the other that the Emperor was on his way here.  He was returning from the campaign against the Governor of Germania Superior; the man who put me in this position.”

BOOK: Hosker, G [Sword of Cartimandua 04] Roman Retreat
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