Roman - The Fall of Britannia (42 page)

The younger
women and teenage girls had been rounded up and though the quality
of the women had been admittedly poor, the two hundred or so men
involved in the assault had been rewarded with an hour’s freedom to
do as they liked before putting them to the blade. Two hours later,
the Cohort were once again assembled in marching order, ready to
continue their campaign, and they watched in silence as the archers
prepared for the final grisly task of the day.

‘
Archers!’ shouted Remus. ‘Prepare arrows!’

The one hundred
and sixty archers dipped their arrows into prepared fires and aimed
them high into the air. The trajectory was designed to rain a hail
of fiery arrows onto the thatch of the chieftain’s hut, visible
through the charred embers where the gates had once
stood.

‘
Release!’ roared Remus, and the sky was lined with smoky
trails as the fire arrows soared into the air. Remus knew there was
no need for a second salvo. More than enough arrows would find
their target and the extra brushwood they had placed around the hut
would ensure the place would be an inferno in seconds. He turned
away from the scene.

‘
Ready when you are, Sire,’ he called.

‘
Cohort, advance!’ called the Tribune and the column marched
away from the fort toward the west. They hadn’t gone fifty paces
before the first screams were carried to them on the wind, but not
one man’s head turned in concern. This was war and such was the
Gods will.

----

Two nights
later, Tribune Mateus stood alongside Remus looking over a slow
moving river. Behind them, the Cohort was busy building the
marching camp.

‘
The
camp is almost finished, Sire,’ said Remus as he broke some
Buccellatum biscuit and offered it to the Tribune.

‘
What do you think, Centurion?’ asked Mateus. ‘Have we come
far enough?’

‘
I
have seen nothing that persuades me these heathen are anywhere near
the quality of warriors to be found in Gemina,’ he said. ‘We have a
full Cohort of battle hardened infantry supported by archers,
cavalry and scouts. It would take a number twenty times that to
cause us a problem, if the last rabble were anything to go by.’
Despite his own assurances, Remus himself harboured some doubts but
his determination to catch up with Prydain drove any uncertainties
from his mind.

‘
Then it is decided,’ said Mateus. ‘We will continue, but send
a rider to Nasica to inform him of our progress. I will prepare a
briefing about our magnificent defeat of the heathen back in their
palisade.’

Remus returned
to the Cohort to oversee the camp’s completion, and after the men
were settled and the guards posted, he withdrew to his own tent to
get some sleep.

----

Several hours
later, Cassus banged on the wet canvas.

‘
What is it?’ asked Remus, instantly awake beneath his heavy
cape.

‘
Someone is approaching the camp,’ said Cassus.

Remus threw back
his cape and pulled on his Caligae before crawling out of the
tent.

‘
How
many?’ he asked, as he belted on his Gladius.

‘
We
can see only one, Sire, but there may be others.’

‘
Where is he?’

‘
Outside the south rampart,’ said Cassus. ‘He has made camp.
Shall we sound the alarm?’

‘
No,’ said Remus, ‘no need to wake the Cohort for one man.’ He
ran between the tents to the earthen wall that had been erected
just hours before. The duty Contubernia was peering between the
pointed stakes, and into the darkness beyond.

‘
Show me!’ whispered Remus to the nearest guard, and his gaze
followed the pointing finger into a nearby copse. At first, he
could see nothing, but as his vision became accustomed to the
darkness, he made out the shape of a horse and the figure of a man
sitting against a tree trunk.

‘
I
see him, are there any more?’

‘
We
haven’t seen any,’ said the legionary. ‘He has been there for at
least half an hour.’

‘
Wake the translator,’ he said, ‘and bring your
shield.’

When Cassus
returned with the translator, Remus stood up and beckoned the two
men.

‘
Follow me,’ he said and walked over the top of the bank and
down toward the copse. They walked slowly, holding their shields as
a defence against any sudden arrow or spear out of the dark. When
they were within twenty paces, they stopped, and Remus told the
translator what to say.

‘
Declare yourself, stranger!’ he called, causing the
silhouette to jump up suddenly and grab the unseen reins of his
horse.

‘
Hold your weapons,’ answered the lone rider, ‘I am no
threat!’

‘
Declare your business,’ responded the Centurion.

‘
I
am but a simple traveller,’ came the answer in his strange accent.
‘I will move on in peace.’

‘
Step forward.’ ordered Remus and the man approached
slowly.

‘
Are
you Roman?’ he asked nervously, staring hard into the darkness,
unable to make out the shapes of the men. Centurion Remus drew his
sword quietly as did Cassus. The traveller heard the unmistakable
sound, and realising the danger, took a chance.

‘
I
hear Claudius scratches his arse while his legionaries die to fill
his coffers,’ he said in perfect Latin. Remus and Cassus
straightened up and stared in disbelief. It was a classic Roman
curse.

‘
Who
are you stranger?’ asked Remus in his own language.

‘
I
am Andronicus of the Exploratores,’ he replied, ‘and I am seeking
the armies of Plautius.’ All three men from the camp breathed a
collective sigh of relief.

‘
Well, Andronicus,’ said Remus, ‘step forward and be
recognised, it would seem you have found us.’

----

Back in the
camp, Remus and Cassus sat around a tiny fire and shared a flask of
warm watered wine with the scout. They waited patiently as he
devoured some dried meat from their supplies. His hair was long and
dirty and he smelled to high heaven.

‘
How
long have you been out there?’ asked Remus.

‘
Three months altogether,’ said Andronicus, ‘gathering
information for Plautius.’

‘
Why
are you in such a state?’ asked Cassus.

‘
When you sleep with pigs, you live like a pig,’ he said
before taking another slurp from his tankard.

‘
You
were actually living amongst the barbarians?’

‘
Sleeping, eating and shitting,’ he confirmed between
mouthfuls of meat. Andronicus let out a huge belch and looked
around. ‘Seems there’s no more than a Cohort here,’ he said. ‘Where
are the legions?’

‘
About ten days march,’ said Remus. ‘You are welcome to stay
with us; I could use someone who has local knowledge.’

‘
Better not,’ said Andronicus, ‘Plautius himself awaits my
report. I have information that will be useful when the he decides
to march into the Khymru. What are you doing so far west
anyway?’

‘
We
are seeking a deserter,’ said Cassus, ‘I don’t suppose you have
come across him?’

‘
Can’t say I have,’ said Andronicus, his brow knitted in
thought, ‘though there was a rumour that a local had kidnapped a
girl from the Druids and was heading south. Could that be your
man?’

‘
I
doubt it,’ said Remus.

‘
Shame!’ said Andronicus. ‘If you should come across him,
ensure you take his colleague alive. The Druids have placed a huge
price on his head. Apparently he goes by the name of
Gwydion.’

Both Cassus and
Remus looked up sharply.

‘
That’s our man,’ said Cassus excitedly, ‘Prydain was bought
by Gwydion as a slave.’

‘
Don’t know about slave,’ said Andronicus. ‘Last I heard, they
rode as comrades.’

‘
Where did you say they went?’ asked Cassus

‘
I
didn’t,’ said Andronicus. ‘I only know that they were last seen
heading for the land of the Silures.’

‘
And
how do we get there?’ asked Remus.

‘
What exactly has this Prydain done?’ asked Andronicus. ‘To
send a Cohort after one man, what did he do, kill the
Emperor?’

‘
It
is personal,’ said Remus. ‘Now how do we get to these
Silures?’

‘
You
don’t,’ said Andronicus, ‘they will kill you.’

‘
We’ll take our chances.’

‘
They are not like the others,’ said Andronicus. ‘They are
savages with no compassion. Your Cohort will be
annihilated.’

‘
I’ll worry about that,’ said Remus, his patience wearing
thin. ‘Now, I’ll ask again, do you know how I will find
them.’

‘
Your funeral pyre,’ said Andronicus, ‘but yes I do.’ He
pointed in the direction of the river, hidden in the
darkness.

‘
Cross the river and head west until you reach a well-marked
road,’ he said. ‘When you reach the road, head south but keep your
wits about you. The Silures are not ordinary men. They are feared
by all the other tribes of Britannia and will eat your heart
without a second thought. Don’t say you haven’t been
warned.’

They talked deep
into the night before Andronicus curled up under his heavy cape to
grab a few hours’ sleep. Remus and Cassus talked some more before
they too retired, though Remus didn’t sleep. He knew he was close.
A few more days and the slave-boy Prydain Maecilius would be within
his grasp.

----

The following
day, Centurion Remus and Tribune Mateus sat astride their horses
staring across the river. Andronicus had given them detailed
directions before resuming his journey eastward several hours
earlier. While the rest of the Cohort took advantage of the overdue
break, they rode forward to join the scouts at the water’s edge and
assessed the grisly situation before them.

On the far bank
of the river, a thicket of over a hundred stakes had been driven
into the soft ground, each topped with a human head in different
stages of decay, both aged bare skulls and those freshly
decapitated. Many were still adorned with the helmets their wearers
had foolishly thought would protect them. Though there were no
written words, the message was obvious; it said
‘Keep
out!’

‘
What do you think?’ asked the Tribune nervously.

‘
Meaningless drama,’ said Remus in contempt, ‘I have seen it a
hundred times in a hundred different places. I see nothing here to
prevent us continuing.’

‘
Do
you think it’s wise?’ asked Mateus.

‘
We
are so close,’ said Remus, ‘it would be foolish to return now. Our
quarry lies within reach as does the location of the gold mines.
Nasica wants either, but bring back both and your name will be
known to Claudius himself. Think how quickly the political career
of the man who delivers the Khymric gold would advance.’

Mateus stared
across the water, his nerves easing as Remus massaged his ego.
Already he could see himself taking his senatorial seat in
Rome.

‘
The
matter is decided,’ he said, ‘we will complete our mission.
Assemble the men, we push on immediately.’

‘
Yes, Sire,’ said Remus and returned to the Cohort. Twenty
minutes later, they waded through the river in silence as they
passed the macabre warning, and when they were safely assembled on
the far side, Tribune Mateus addressed the entire
Cohort.

‘
Today you men have made history as the first Roman unit to
enter the Khymru,’ he said. ‘Heed not those childish warnings at
the river; they are designed to frighten the weak. But we are not
weak, we are Roman and they know not what they are dealing with.
Thirty miles west lays a route that runs north to south through
this land. Before the sun sets tonight, I want to be on that road,
so take a moment to secure your kit, for we will not rest until we
reach it.’

‘
This is what you joined for!’ interjected Remus, ‘for
adventure, for glory and for gold. All three lie there.’ He waved
his hand toward the distant rolling hills. ‘All we have to do is go
and get it.’

They took the
chance to eat some Buccellatum and dried meat before securing their
equipment. As they were in enemy territory, Remus insisted they
wear helmets and armour on the march and the scouts were deployed
to the front and flanks of the column. They stood in a double
column waiting to start; a heavily armed and highly trained unit of
experienced legionaries. A cog in the greatest military machine
that ever existed.

‘
Cohort ready,’ roared Remus, ‘double speed,
advaaance!

As one, the
column stepped forward, their pace designed to eat up the miles
before them and as long as they did not meet any problems on the
way, would see them reach the road in less than eight
hours.

----

Chapter 40

The fugitives
had ridden the horses to exhaustion in a bid to get as far away
from the village as possible, and at last, Gwydion called a halt
before their mounts died beneath them. They turned off the path to
seek the protection of the deeper parts of the flanking wood and
finally settled into an overgrown thicket of ash. Their food was
almost gone, as was the grain for the horses, and Prydain went with
the nose bags to find grass on the outskirts of the wood. Gwenno
sat hunched against a tree wrapped in her blanket, her eyes closed
in misery. When Gwydion had finished with the horses, he sat down
alongside her, stroking her arm gently.