Hosker, G [Sword of Cartimandua 12] Roman Wall (8 page)

“What happened, Felix?”

“The Allfather was not ready for you.  You banged your head and a dead branch saved you.” He smiled, “Wolf helped too.”

“Here help me up.”

Felix gave his arm to the decurion who stood, somewhat awkwardly. Felix looked down the trail apologetically.  “Please Decurion, we must hurry.  I killed three trackers up the path.  There may be more.”

“Right.  Cut one of these saplings for a staff.” He grabbed the water skin and drank. Felix handed him the staff and rolled up the blanket.  He tied it about his body and then offered some dried meat.  “No thanks.  It was just the water I needed.  Lead on.”

Felix and Wolf left the path and headed first along the shelf beneath the river for forty paces. Then he led them across stones into the undergrowth. Now that the decurion could walk Felix could find a way to avoid their pursuers.

As he led the injured Roman he kept glancing back to see if he was coping with the journey.  He appeared to be but Felix was not the healer that both Ailis and Drugi were.  He was tempted to find a village and ask for help but he was an astute youth and knew that he could trust no one this close to the Brigante camp.

Rufius was feeling the effects of the fall. He vaguely remembered striking the rump of his horse before hitting the water.  Felix was right; the Allfather had saved him.  He had sacrificed the horse for the rider. When he had time Rufius would make an offering. He was determined to keep up with the Brigante scout despite the buzzing in his head and his desire for sleep.

Once again Felix took them for five thousand steps before he halted. He forced the decurion to drink and to chew some dried meat. “You will need the food inside you.” He looked to the west. “There is a village close to the river and on a cliff. I think we should avoid it.”

Rufius nodded, “You are in charge.”

“It will mean a longer journey and we will not reach the farm before dark.”

Rufius was suddenly aware that they had crossed the river.  When he had woken it had been on his right. “But we can reach Morbium and that is as good.”

Felix smiled for the first time since the fall. “Then the gods do smile on us. Wolf, scout!”

Severus and Briac stared at the three bodies. There was an accusatory tone in Severus’ voice. “Had your men searched the land below the falls rather than returning to the camp to gloat these men might be alive and we would have prisoners to interrogate.”

“Who knew that someone could escape that fall?  I still cannot believe it.”

Severus waved his hand at the three bodies. “Tell that to these men.”

“We can still catch them.”

“How?  The trail stops just ahead and they could be anywhere. No, Chief Briac we have to assume that they have escaped and they are either Romans or Roman spies.  Either way we will have to send the men back to their farms.”

“But the training?”

“The training is almost done and we need secrecy.  Send your men back and tell them to hide their weapons.  You and your oathsworn will come with me to Manavia.”

“You are giving commands now?”

The Roman shrugged, “No, merely suggestions, but if you stay I expect to see your crucified body when I next return.  They will know your name.  They will know the numbers of warriors.”

“But they only know of those at the camp and not the others.”

Severus sighed with impatience.  The man was a fool. “They will send soldiers as soon as they can and they will come here.  They will search until they find you.  If you are in Manavia for the winter then you cannot be found.”

Briac was convinced.  “We can still win?”

Severus grinned, “Oh we can still win.  Had we not found these bodies and assumed the Romans were dead then we would have lost but the gods are helping us.  We will win.”

The centurion on duty at Morbium recognised Rufius. The lateness of the hour had made him suspicious. He admitted them both.  The capsarius looked at Rufius while he hurriedly wrote a message for the commander at Eboracum. “Have you a spare horse?”

The centurion shook his head, “They decided we did not need any despatch riders.  Your message will have to go by foot.”

Rufius shook his head and regretted it immediately, “No, this is urgent.  Felix, go to Ailis’ farm. Bring my horse, one for you and a third one for the fort. Warn Ailis and Drugi of the danger they are in.”

As Felix ran across the bridge over the Dunum with Wolf scouting ahead the centurion asked, “Are you sure about this threat?”

Rufius said, bluntly, “Centurion last night I saw over a thousand Brigante armed with new weapons and wearing mail, they were training for war and they were being advised by a Roman.  They were just twenty miles from here. So, what do you think of the threat?”

In answer the centurion shouted, “Double the guards!”

Chapter 6

Decurion Princeps Metellus was not worried when four days had passed since Rufius had left.  After all the Quartermaster and Gaius were not back yet, but the hairs on the back of his neck were prickling and that was a sure sign that all was not well with the world. He heard hooves as a horseman clattered up Via Trajanus.  The fort had a clear view for half a mile and he saw that it was not Rufius.  He walked to the gate. “A rider approaching.  Better warn the Prefect.  It may be a messenger from Eboracum.”

The sentries acknowledged the command and stood in the middle of the gateway.  During the hours of daylight the southern gate was always left open, guarded but open.  The rider halted and shouted, “Messenger for Prefect Sallustius, from the Governor.”

As he was waved through Metellus wondered at that.  The Governor normally communicated directly with the Legate Demetrius. He was intrigued.  Nanna, his wife, would have said he was being plain nosey. He wandered down to be on hand when the missive was handed over. Julius Demetrius had joined the Prefect, no doubt also intrigued by the message’s origin.

“Sir, the Governor said it is a personal matter for you.  There is a box too.” He unstrapped a box which had been hidden by the rider’s cloak. Metellus hid a smile.  He could see that the matter must have preyed on the rider’s mind all the way from the far south of the Province.

“Thank you Trooper.  Stable your horse. It is too late to venture forth tonight.”

There was palpable relief on the rider’s face.  Since Eboracum he had feared for his life.  This was the wild frontier. He was used to the fortress with vaguely civilised people.  Here the barbarians still went around half naked! “Thank you, sir.”

Metellus and Julius looked over the Prefect’s shoulder, both were equally interested. Livius gave them a wry look.  “Come along then.  We will go to my rooms and examine this mystery.”

Julius demurred, “No, no, Prefect.  It is a private matter, after all.”

Livius laughed.  “No Legate, I insist.”

Once in his room the slave poured three goblets of wine and disappeared. Livius unrolled the papyrus. That in itself was unusual. Papyrus was expensive and messages were normally entrusted to wax; a more fragile but a cheaper medium.

Hail Prefect Sallustius,

The box which accompanies this letter was found secreted in the Governor’s palace in Camulodunum which I am having refurbished. It was with some items belonging to your uncle.  I knew him, albeit briefly and, for my part, he was my friend. Out of respect for a former Governor I have not opened the box but I must tell you that there was a fragment of papyrus found with it which suggested that it was of some importance.

If I can be of any assistance do not hesitate to contact me.

Trebonius Germanus

By Order of Emperor Hadrian

Governor of Britannia

“Interesting.”

Livius nodded, “I can see that he would have to be circumspect given the manner of my uncle’s death.  This is even more intriguing now.” Livius’ uncle had been executed for treason.  It was an unfounded accusation but one could see how the new Governor would wish to distance himself from any hint of disloyalty.

The air of anticipation filled the room.  Metellus nervously licked his lips whilst Livius drank his wine to give him thinking time.

Livius lifted the small chest on to the table. It was remarkably light, “Not filled with gold then?”

Julius looked at the workmanship of the box. “This is a well made box and whatever is within it, your uncle would have deemed valuable. Be careful when you open it.”

There was a knock on the door and Metellus looked up irritably. He glowered at the trooper when he opened it. “This had better be important trooper.”

“It is sir, Decurion Atrebeus and the Brigante scout are approaching the gate, sir.”

Livius looked up and waved a hand.  “You had better go, Decurion Princeps.  We will not be long.” Metellus left and Livius slowly opened the lid.  Disappointingly there appeared to be just a letter but, when Livius lifted it out he saw a ring with the image of a boar upon it.

While he read the letter aloud Julius examined the ring.

“
To those who follow me,

If you are reading this letter then something has gone awry with my plans and those of my dear friend King Prasutagus
.”

Julius looked up, “Prasutagus, he was the husband of Boudicca.  I didn’t know he knew your uncle.”

Livius shrugged, “They were both members of royal families so it is, perhaps, not really surprising that they were friends.”

He continued to read, “
He has entrusted this ring to my care.  It is to be used by whoever finds this box.  I hope it is someone from my family for this is a matter of family honour but it may well be some official of Rome.  In either case it is a most delicate matter.

The king sent his royal regalia and the money he was given by Rome to his cousin, Ban in the land of the Votadini.  The enclosed ring will identify the bearer as coming from King Prasutagus. He hoped that it would help his daughters for he had a premonition of evil.  Sadly I had never the opportunity to honour my promise. The king fell ill and he died leaving his wife to revolt against Rome. In that time it was impossible for me to travel north for those were dangerous times. Once the family were dead there appeared to be little urgency and I put it off.

My honour demands that I fulfil my promise. I hope to make the journey soon, especially as I am now Governor of Britannia.  However affairs of state may prevent my doing so.

I owe it to my friend to return the regalia and the money to the Iceni for they have been badly used by corrupt officials.

Lucullus Sallustius

Governor of Britannia by the will of Emperor Domitian.”

Julius took the letter and examined the seal.  “It looks authentic enough to me. This is where we could do with old Julius.  He has an eye for this sort of thing.”

“It leaves me in a dilemma though.  The Votadini are hostile and they are north of the wall.”

“But it is a matter of honour, Livius.  I know that you feel a sense of duty towards your uncle.  This will require some thought.”

There was a sharp rap on the door and Julius put the letter and the ring back in the box. “We had better keep this between ourselves, Livius.” He closed the lid.  “Come!”

Metellus and Rufius entered.  Rufius looked the worse for wear.  His face was now blackened from his fall and he had ridden nonstop from Morbium.

“Sit down, Decurion.  You look ready to drop.”

“I am tired, Legate, but I bring dire news.” He briefly told them what had occurred, minimising his own misfortunes and travails and concentrating on the key factors.

“You have done well, Decurion Atrebeus. It is all that we expected. Well, Prefect, can you put this putative rebellion down with ten turmae?  It is all that we can spare.”

“Then we will have to do so. Decurion Princeps, have the ala ready to ride first thing in the morning. We will leave four turmae here.”

Rufius tried to rise.  Julius put his hand on his shoulder. “Where do you think you are going?”

“I need to prepare for the morrow sir.”

“No, Decurion.  You will be staying here and resting; for a day or two at least. You have done more than enough.”

After they had gone Livius picked up the box. “This will have to wait.”

“Perhaps not old friend. We both know the power of the name of the Sword of Cartimandua.  The royal regalia of the Iceni will be equally powerful.”

“I am not sure about that.  Since the revolt they have been a subjugated tribe.”

“We have a new governor.  If he has any sense he will make moves to bring the Iceni into the fold as allies rather than a subjugated people.  The return of the regalia costs us nothing and yet it might make that part of Britannia safe.”

“You are the politician, Julius and not me.”

He shrugged.  “We will talk more when you return.  Make sure that you take the ala along the valley of the Dunum.  There may be other parts which are rebellious but we know that there is a faction there now.”

“You do not expect them to be at their camp do you, Legate?”

“If they are then they are fools for they have kept this hidden from us so far.  Let us assume they know what they are doing.  Your patrol in strength is to let them know that we know.  Meanwhile I will arrange for the VI
^th
Victrix to winter at Luguvalium. We may need them in the spring.  I will write to the Governor and to the commander at Eboracum. They were due there in the spring anyway.” He stared hard at Livius.  “Show them that we are in control.  Your ala has a reputation in that part of the world. Let us use it.”

When the ala left the next morning poor Rufius felt as though he was letting down his comrades. His turma was left with the other turmae to patrol the wall and that would be a hard enough task.  Rufius, however, did not like leaving a job half done. He and Felix stood on the gate tower and watched as the column of men headed south.  They would reach the site of the camp by late afternoon. If the rebels were still there then they were in for rude surprise.