Hosker, G [Sword of Cartimandua 10] Roman Hawk (3 page)

Marcus smiled.  It was typical of his old friend that he would think about the orders he was giving.  Having been a decurion himself Livius knew that the troopers needed variety or they would see what they expected to see. For himself, Marcus did not mind the mission for he would be able to see more of his family who lived close to the fort at Morbium and the Dunum.  With Macro, his brother, and Gaius his father killed in the last twelve months he now wanted to see his mother, his brother and his brother’s family as often as possible. Poor Metellus would be green with envy for Marcus would be able to visit Nanna, Metellus new Brigante wife, at the horse farm close to Morbium.  This would not be a duty he shirked; no Marcus would enjoy the respite from the non stop fighting on the frontier.

“You will also bring back the remounts and the new recruits who are waiting in Morbium.” He paused and looked at the two of them.  “Any questions?” It was noticeable that Decius, one of the younger decurions, bit his lip as he pondered a question but then glanced at Marcus nervously.

Marcus looked at the map.  “How long is the assignment?”

“You have until the new moon for by then the days will be becoming shorter and the roads less easy for wagons.  If we cannot garner the stone we require in thirty days then the Emperor’s wall will not be built.”

“Good.  Right sir we will be off then.”

“Not without your orders you won’t!” The clerks’ authoritative voice made Decius start in surprise while Marcus and Livius just smiled.

“Anything you want bringing back from Morbium oh revered sage!”

Snorting at the sarcasm Julius handed over the two copies of orders.  “Some more spices for Septimus would not come amiss and perhaps some more game.”

Marcus marvelled that the pile of skin and bones that made up the clerk could consume so much food and yet not have an ounce of flesh on him. “I will bring you back some venison.  There should still be a haunch hanging at the farm, it will easier for your old teeth to chew.”

“Cheeky young…” Livius saw the twinkle in Julius’ eyes. The old man had, as they all had, been inordinately fond of the two brothers and with Macro dead, all that affection had been given to Marcus.

Chapter 2

When the two turmae arrived at Morbium they could see the effect the Emperor’s presence was having. There was much more activity and auxiliaries were improving the defences of the fort. The ditch was being deepened and the fire zone from the walls increased. The rebellion the previous year had shown the vulnerability of this vital river crossing. It was the only place the Dunum had been bridged.

Prefect Marius Arvina was looking harassed as Marcus entered the Principia.  “Good to see you Decurion.  You will have to excuse the confusion.  With the Governor up at Coriosopitum it is left to me to organise the distribution of the new auxiliary cohorts who are arriving daily. “He leaned back and smiled at the warrior who had helped to save his region from devastation by Irish raiders. The Batavians in the fort held the Second Sallustian Ala in the highest esteem.  “What can I do for you?”

Decius handed over their orders and Marcus walked to the map on the wall. “There are problems with the construction wall and the Emperor needs more stone. “ Prefect Arvina was a friend and Marcus felt he deserved a better explanation for he would have to organise his men to get the stone from the nearby quarries.  Already over worked it would add considerably to their work load. ”The barbarians are attacking the men who are quarrying and the builders.” He pointed at the flooded fields just beyond the gates.  “The recent rains have made work slower. We have been ordered to take all that you can provide for us and spend a month escorting wagons back and forth to the wall.  In addition the Legate wants us to deter the pirates and raiders.”

The Prefect put down the orders. “It would strike me that ships would be more effective.”

Marcus nodded his agreement. “And so would I but, apparently, we have to wait for next year for the ships to be built and until then my thirty men riding along the banks of the Dunum will have to suffice.”

“I had hoped that the Emperor would have seen our dilemma, having lived at close hand and experienced life on the frontier.” The Prefect quickly looked up at the two young men wondering if he had said too much and was relieved when they both smiled.

“Oh the Emperor knows the situation.  Having nearly been caught in an ambush  by the Votadini he is acutely aware of the issues but, as Julius Demetrius told us, it is the money men in Rome who cause the problems. They believe that Britannia is conquered and want a return on Rome’s investment.  When the Emperor returns to Rome then expect more supplies, ships and men but until then, we will become the land borne Classis Britannica!”

“It will be good to have a mobile force close to us.  I worry that my static little fort cannot react quickly enough to incursions.  By the time we get there then the raiders have departed.” He waved his arm at the flooded land which could be seen from the gates.”  With the extra rain it means they can get as far as us if they choose. The winter is the dangerous time for the rain from the hills makes the valley like a lake than a river.  Even here the river nearly topped the bridge.”

“I think Prefect that your bolt throwers would tear them to shreds if they ventured this far.”

The Prefect chuckled, “Yes it would be nice to see the look on their faces as Greek Fire poured on to them. “ They both knew the magic of both Greek Fire and bolt throwers when facing barbarians.  They thought it dishonourable to fight from a distance.  It was an edge the Romans did not want to lose. “Give my regards to your family.  My patrols check in on them regularly.  I think they see it as an outpost of this one.,”

“After the last raid and the death of my father my brother increased the defences. He learned that we need stone walls and a double gate.  By spring the walls should be stone for the whole of its circumference and the ditches make it look like a smaller version of Morbium.”

The ride from the fort to the farm was a short one.  The farm was south east of the fort and far enough away not to be affected by the flood plain. There was a stream on his brother’s land which afforded protection for three quarters of the perimeter and the last quarter had a formidable wall and gate. Much of the forest had been cleared to make grazing land for cattle while pigs were kept in large enclosures close to the main buildings.  It was a prosperous farm, as Marcus told Decius whilst they rode down the muddy trail, “It is more a collection of farms than one enterprise but my brother manages it all.”

“Are you not envious of your brother’s riches?”

Marcus shook his head, “My brother does it because he loves it and it is for the family.  Any riches we have are for the whole family and that includes those who work with us to till and harvest the land.” He could see that Decius was having problems with the concept. “My mother is Brigante as are the people who work the land. She sees it as looking after the land.  My mother adheres to the worship of the Mother.”

Decius looked aghast.  “No, not the corrupted and warped form of Morwenna and her cult, but the true Brigante version which works in harmony with the land, not using it as an evil power.”

Ailis and Decius were delighted by the bonus of a visit from their warrior.  They had all become far closer since the deaths of Macro and Gaius.  The five orphans were also a welcome delight and distraction for the grandmother as they played with and entertained Decius’ young son.  Ailis noticed Marcus’ look and smiled.  “The Allfather works in strange ways.  He took away two and gives us six.”

“I would that he had left us the two as well.”

Ailis shook her head.  “Your father was marked for death.  The harsh winter would have taken him and he would have died in a bed coughing out his life.  Better to die with a blade in his had as he lived.  As for your brother, we all know that his mother marked him for death the day that he was born.  At least he had more years to live the life he wanted and you know, son, that he always regarded you as his true brother. He had the times with you and I know they were special to him.”  She looked up in the sky, seeking the hawk that had begun to soar above the farm, “Which is why he watches over you still.”

A cloud passed over Marcus’ face.  His brother was not with the Allfather and he had sworn an oath to protect his brother until he had redeemed himself. Whenever Marcus heard a hawk he knew that his brother was close at hand.  He would rather his brother were with the Allfather, his father and Gaelwyn. He shivered for he did not like the supernatural and he changed the subject. “How is Nanna?  We have to visit her to collect some remounts.”

Decius laughed.  “It is like having a female Cato.  She works harder than any man I know and her workers always look exhausted and yet they love her.  As for the horses, she is Cato’s equal that is all I will say.”

“That is good to know and Metellus will be pleased.” Marcus had been privy to the courtship of his friend and the Brigante that had rescued.  Marcus felt a certain ownership when it came to nana for he had been instrumental in saving her a second time when her wagon had been attacked by the Selgovae. “I will be visiting frequently for we are travelling in the valley of the Dunum for the next month.”

Marcus blushed at the reaction from his family. He was not one given to fuss but all of them showered him with hugs and overt signs of affection.  The warrior could not understand it and did not know the high regard the whole family had for this quiet unassuming warrior who was the embodiment of his father. Ailis could see, day by day, the son she had borne becoming the man she had married and it comforted her greatly.  It was a circle of life and a sign that there was an Allfather, and he did have a plan, however convoluted and complex it might seem to the mortals who strove to exist in his dangerous world.

*******

Marcus had decided to take the first consignment of stone on the wagons back to the frontier.  The patrol along the Dunum was an easier task and Marcus knew that Decius was inexperienced; he could learn leadership with neither pressure from peers nor enemies.  He would be a good officer but he needed time to develop those skills.  He remembered how others, Cicero and Graccus amongst them, had not had the time to become good officers and had both been taken too soon. The journey north with the stone filled wagons was quite pleasant for the first twenty miles as they were still within Morbium’s area of influence but, as they drew nearer to the border the old Explorate began to smell danger. The slow pace was too predictable and any barbarians waiting to attack them would have much time to prepare. His loyal turma, all oath brothers of the sword, recognised the signs and they too looked around for the danger.

Suibhne had been sent by King Lugubelenus to watch the Roman road. He had with him his own loyal warband. They were forty of the most experienced warriors in the tribe and all of them had lived close to the frontier all their lives. They knew every path and tree in the huge forest which lined both sides of the Roman road.  They had been chosen for this task by the king himself and all felt honoured to have been chosen.  All of them hated what the Romans had done; it was unnatural to cut straight lines through the holy forest and to use stone to do was even worse. Stone was for monuments, for men to marvel at, not to plant their feet upon.  The gods did not want man to leave his mark on the land and yet these Romans did just that, leaving their scar throughout the land. Days earlier, Suibhne had seen the wagons heading south, empty, and knew what it meant; they would be returning and when they did they would be full.  He knew not what the Romans would bring, their needs baffled the simple tribesmen, but if he could stop it then it might persuade them to leave their land and to stop scarring it even more. Whatever was arriving on the wheeled wagons was valuable and if they prevented their arrival then the Romans would be weaker.

He had watched the empty wagons head south and knew when they would return and, when they did so, they would be full and heavily laden. They would have to move slowly, even on the stone roads. That was the time to hit them, when they laboured up the hills to the fort at Coriosopitum. The rode rose for a long mile and the dropped easily down to the frontier fort. To create a trap he had had his men dislodge a line of stones across the road.  It had taken them some time but he knew they had at least a day before the wagons returned. He then split his men into two even groups along both sides.  They had learned how swift the cavalry could be, they would react quickly to any attack. All of the men with him were experts with slingshots. They had stolen skills and ideas from the Romans and now made smoother, rounder missiles which were more accurate and deadlier than the old stones which they had picked from lakes and streams. Now they made their own and they flew truer and hit harder.

As Marcus and his turma escorted the incredibly slow wagons he reflected that he knew this road now as well as any in the province.  That did not make it any safer. When it had been first built it was secure enough for lone riders to use it safely.  However since the demise of the Ninth and the problems on the Stanegate it had become a dangerous place.  The sooner the wall was erected then the sooner they could control the barbarians. Marcus was in no doubt that they would still raid; from what he had understood from Julius and Livius the wall was a deterrent only.  Men could still climb over it and then raid in the soft underbelly of Britannia.  What they would not be able to do would be to bring horses which would make the ala’s task that much easier;  nor would they be able to steal horses, animals, goods and, most pertinent of all, slaves.  They might get across the new wall but they would not be able to return the same way. He sighed to himself.  All that was some way off and for the present he and his turma would need eyes in the back of their heads and every sense attuned.

Just at that moment his new horse, Star, whinnied.  He was a well trained mount and did not make a sound unless there were strange horses nearby or something which made him wary. “Halt!” Marcus had learned to trust him and his senses; it was better to arrive a little late but safe rather than on time with casualties and no stone.