by Griff Hosker
“Yes, sit down.” As he sat down Marcus leaned back in his seat. Riding was a little more uncomfortable now that he had reached more than forty summers. He remembered how Ulpius had complained of the horse’s back, now he understood why. “What is the state of the herd?”
“We only have ten remounts and a couple of the horses are coming to the end of their useful life. If we had to campaign we would struggle.” He paused thoughtfully. “If we are just patrolling then we might manage until autumn.” Cato knew the prefect well enough not to ask irrelevant questions. He would get to the point in his own time.
The sergeant had recognised both a problem and a solution at the same time. If they were patrolling they would only need eighty mounts at any one time, injured horses could be rested, older horses kept out of action. A campaign meant attrition, injuries and losses. “Very astute of you sergeant. At first we will be patrolling but within a couple of weeks we will need to mount a serious campaign. When we get to Glanibanta I want you to take your, “he searched for the word because it was an unofficial unit, “ horsemen and travel to Derventio and the stud. There should be remounts there and if not you could buy them. You know the farmers.” Marcus and Decius had always kept back part of any loot discovered by or freed by the turmae. It was used to buy horses, extra rations and occasionally, if a trooper was wounded and could not continue, provide a sort of unofficial stipend. It was one of the reasons that the ala pooled their loot, everyone benefited. Cato would have plenty of money to buy horses.
Cato nodded. They had been around the farms in the horse country around Derventio and made many contacts. They had set up a stud and, whilst there would not have been enough time to produce numbers of horses, there would be a number of new mounts they could bring. “Ask our farmer friends if they could supply us with horses until the stud begins to produce numbers. We will need many horses in the next two years. Do you understand?”
Cato was an old soldier and recognised what Marcus was saying without using words. They would be heavily campaigning. “I’ll do that sir and money?”
“I will supply you with enough denari but ask the farmers if there is something they would like to barter rather than using money.” Cato looked at him curiously. “If we catch these brigands there may be things we capture which are more valuable to farmers than money.”
“Right sir.”
Pontius Brutus had been a centurion in the Ninth; upon his discharge he had been granted some land. He had found farming not to his liking and he had decided to become a merchant. His contacts at Eboracum enabled him to get some slaves at a ridiculous price and he soon found a lucrative trade route transporting limestone and lime from Morbium down to the forts being built at Eboracum Deva, and Mamucium. He had finished his contract with Eboracum and now had the longer journey to the south west of Brigante land. This suited the ex-centurion for he could charge a higher price and it gave him the opportunity to buy items not available in Eboracum. He found he had a penchant for trade. His slaves did most of the work and the guards he hired were both loyal and tough. The grey haired florid Roman had a good life and he intended to build a huge villa with the proceeds of his latest investment.
The Brigante bandits watched as the slow column made its way down the slope towards the river. They counted only ten guards which could easily be taken by their fifty warriors. It was Calgus’ first raid as a leader and he was keen for success. Aed might reward him if he was successful. The way the wagons moved suggested they were packed with trade goods. It would be a rich haul. He also noted the weapons and helmets worn by the guards, they too would be a bonus. His only concern was the merchant who led the column. From his bearing he looked to be an ex-soldier and Calgus, veteran of battles against Romans, was always wary of Roman soldiers, retired or not. He waited until they halted at the ford to allow their animals to drink. His men watched for his signal. As soon as the drivers began to walk upstream to drink he gave it.
The warriors ran swiftly and silently down the slope; the first the guards knew was when one of their number fell screaming from his horse with a spear impaling him. They quickly turned to face the threat and Pontius roared his defiance. Drawing his gladius he charged his horse at the line approaching him. His mount trampled the first two and then he hacked down with his sword. His victim had no helm and the blade split his head. Calgus could see that his men were wavering and he hurled his spear at the horse, and although it was not a lethal strike it caused the horse to drop its front legs just as Pontius was leaning forward to strike at a second bandit. He tumbled from the horse and as he lay winded, on his back the last thing he saw was the tattooed Brigante warrior bringing the axe down on to his head. The remaining three guards saw their paymaster die and they galloped south to safety. The wagon drivers just ran for their lives. Calgus stopped his men from pursuing. He had already lost four men; he did not want to risk more. “Check the wagons; let us see what treasure we have found.” As his warriors clambered aboard the wagons Calgus quickly relieved the dead Roman of his gold, armour and sword.
As he strode towards the wagons he was feeling very pleased with himself until one of his men shouted, “Stone! Wagon loads of stone.”
Another one commented, “Why would anyone want stone?”
The disappointment was immense. They had only six horses and ten mules to show for their endeavours and losses. They could not even use the wagons for they would have had to empty the stone which in their mind was useless. Aed would not be happy when the returned empty handed.
Gaelwyn saw the fleeing riders as they crested the rise. He turned to Metellus, “Riders and they are riding as though pursued.”
Metellus could now see them. If they were Brigante they would turn and go in the opposite direction in which case he would pursue. He was about to order his men into extended line when he saw them turn and come towards him. When they arrived he could see they were not native warriors although they were armed.
“Who are you?”
“We are the guards of Pontius Brutus the merchant. We were attacked by Brigante and they have killed our master.”
Metellus had had his orders made quite clear. Their job was to protect the merchants. “Gaelwyn ride back to the column and report to the prefect. You men take me back to where you were attacked.” The guards looked at each other fearfully; they had just escaped the danger why should they go back? Metellus could see the indecision. “Just show us from a distance then you can piss off wherever you like.” Reluctantly they led him over the slope. In the distance Metellus could see movement. “Is that them?”
“Yes sir.”
“Right wait here and point the way for the rest of the column.” To his turma he shouted, “ Draw your swords!”
Galloping down the hill they caught the bandits completely unaware. They were busy extracting the mules from their traces and, being mules, the animals were not cooperating. Just as Calgus had found his prey helpless and vulnerable now he became the prey. The forty Romans quickly killed most of the bandits and Metellus barely had time to halt the slaughter before his men killed them all. “That’s enough we need prisoners.”
By the time the prefect arrived with two turmae Metellus had bound the prisoners and tended to the wounded guards who had remained close to their charge. Metellus noted, with some surprise that the three guards who had been reluctant to return to the ambush were with the prefect.
“Well done decurion. Any casualties?”
Inwardly Metellus smiled, the prefect always thought of his men first. “No sir. Five prisoners for interrogation.”
Marcus nodded and beckoned over the three guards who had fled. “Your master,” he pointed to the bloodied corpse, “did he have family?”
“No sir.”
“Land?”
“Yes sir, up near Morbium.”
“Mmm. That gives us a problem. What were you carrying?”
“Quick lime and limestone for Deva.”
Marcus turned to Metellus. “Our q
uartermaster could be a very happy man tonight. We will take your wagons and guards into our safe keeping. You three return to you master’s home and guard it until we can decide what to do about his land.” He saw them exchange quick furtive glances. “Oh and before you think of running, my cavalry is based here and in Morbium. When I visit Morbium I will expect to find you three there. If you are not then I would have to think that you were rebels and have you crucified. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes sir.” Metellus smiled their faces showed quite clearly that they would be there.
“Take whatever food you need from your wagons. If you leave now you should make Stanwyck before dark.” Marcus emphasised Stanwyck to let them know he knew the area well. With slumped shoulders the three riders rode off rueing the fact that their freedom had been short lived.
“I’m surprised they didn’t show a clean pair of heels before you arrived sir.”
Marcus grinned, “Oh they tried but they were so dozy they ran straight into us. Well this is a stroke of fortune.”
“Why sir?”
“Lime and limestone. We can make concrete, pazzolana and have stone buildings at the new fort. Should make Decius happy. Now let us interview the prisoners.”
The fear on the prisoner’s faces was clear. They had recognised the uniforms and remembered the Pannonians from the battle. “Where is your base?” They all sullenly looked at the ground. Marcus nodded. “So it is to be that way. Trooper!” He gestured to the nearest trooper who stood stiffly at attention.
“Sir!”
“Choose one of the prisoners, any one. Your choice. “
The trooper grinned, reached down and dragged one to his feet by his braided hair. “This one’ll do sir.”
“Stick your spear in the ground,” he paused and looked at the quaking prisoner, “point uppermost.”
The grinning trooper roared, “Yes sir.”The other troopers began to grin in anticipation as they saw the wet patch forming at the prisoner’s feet. The trooper had succeeded in driving his spear into the ground so that the blade and the length of a man’s leg protruded from the soft soil of the riverbank.
“So I will ask you again where is your base? And before you look at the ground again if I receive silence then my men will sit you on that little seat.” The prefect pointed at the spear. Marcus then looked at the other men. “When you have died I will repeat the questions to the others.”
The man could not get his words out quickly enough. “Over there, the land of the lakes.”
“Where in the land of the lakes? On the big lake where the Roman fort is?”
“No nearer the sea, further away!” He gestured northwards.
Marcus turned to Gaelwyn who was chewing on a piece of liquorice root and cleaning his teeth. “Do you know where he is talking about?”
“There is another big lake not as big as the one you know but big. Yes I know where the dogs are hiding.”
“Good.” He looked at the man. “Then you live. You can retrieve your spear trooper.” The trooper looked disappointed as he pulled it from the ground. “Keep them bound and we’ll decide what to do with them later. For the moment tether them to the wagons. “
When his raiding party failed to return Aed was not concerned for he had had desertions before. Chiefs who took their raiding party to other pickings. He had enough warriors still flocking in from every direction. They were the displaced warriors who sought a paymaster and Aed could still furnish arms and shelter. So far the Romans had not bothered him and he felt he had Fainch to thank for that. Mona was still a thorn in Rome’s side. He knew that sometime they would come which was why he had small groups of watchers on al the major routes in and out of the land of the lakes. When they came he would destroy them. His only fear was the presence of the legions; if they arrived he would find it hard to motivate his men to fight. Too many of them had seen the relentless way they had slaughtered waves of their fellow warriors. The auxiliaries he could destroy, he had done so before and he would do so again. He had over two and a half thousand warriors and the goods he had stolen had made each one of them richer than they had been in their lives. Although he was still hopeful of recapturing the whole of Brigantia he was happy enough to rule this part.
He looked up as Modius entered the roundhouse. “Still no sign of Calgus then?”
“I told you he was too weak and too inexperienced to lead a warband.”
“Yes Modius but we need to blood the young leaders; you know that it is the Roman way.”
“Yes but the Roman way trains them. I will lead my men and see if can find where he went.”
“Good. Check that our watchers are still doing their duty.”
The column made much better time as it travelled along the low coastal plain. They could see the sea in the distance but Marcus made sure they did not get close enough to lose either man or beast in the treacherous sands. Soon they saw the peaks rising in the distance and they knew they were getting close. Gaelwyn and Gaius with his turma left one morning on an extended patrol to see how far it was to the fort. They returned in mid afternoon. “We will be there tomorrow.”
“How does it look?” asked Decius who had made it quite clear to anyone who would listen what he felt about rebuilding the fort again.
“You can still see the ditches. It looks much the way it was when it was dismantled.”
“Yeah and we haven’t got the legionaries to help us build it this time.”
“Stop moaning Decius. We will be much more comfortable this time. It won’t be wooden and we won’t have to share it with foot soldiers.” Marcus pointed at the slaves driving the wagons. “And this time we have slaves to do some of the jobs that you and the lads hate.”
Decius sniffed, “Well I suppose if you put it like that.”
It was quite nostalgic for the older veterans who remembered the last time they had seen the lake, then they had been heading for the battle with Venutius under the command of Ulpius Felix for the last time. They pointed out features to the recruits as they passed them. “That was where we had stables.”
“We had a landing stage there.”
“That was a guard post.”
Marcus smiled for the recruits could only see lumps of discarded rotting wood but for the veterans they could see the building and hear their comrades now with the Allfather. When they arrived at the head of the lake Marcus was pleased that the outline of the fort was still visible. Laying the lines out again was not complicated but this simplified things and made it easier for them. “Build the camp here inside the old fort. Tomorrow we start to build. Gaius you and Decurion Demetrius can take out your turmae tomorrow.”
“Are we to find the bandits?”
“No not yet. Let’s get this built. Just take a sweep from west to east. You know the paths and lakes. Show young Demetrius the lay of the land. We need to make everyone as familiar with this land as you and Decius.”
The next day Julius Demetrius was quite excited as he left the camp. Even in the early dawn Decius had the men mixing concrete and others chopping down trees. Gaius leaned over, “Confidentially we have got the best of the deal. I would rather be riding than building. Ride next to me and I will explain the land to you.”
They headed north and Gaius halted them a mile and a half from the camp. He pointed out a knoll and a field filled with bleached bones. “That was where we halted the Brigante. That knoll had a tower and the young decurion on duty died along with half his turma. This is a dangerous land. We won’t see it today but there is a trail through those woods which goes along that escarpment. The Brigante used it to ambush us. You will see it better from the rise over there.”
With that he headed west and crossed a roaring river which fortunately barely covered the lower legs of the horses. They climbed steadily behind a hill until they emerged at the top and Julius could see the lake with the fort as well as two lakes to the north. “I see why they call it the land of the lakes.”
“There are many more
lakes close to us hidden in little dells and coves. You are never far from water here. Remember that. Look yonder you can see the trail I told you of.”
“And yet we could not see it when we were next to it.”
“This is why the prefect wanted you to see the land. It cost us many men’s lives to discover that.”
The rest of the morning was spent gradually heading up the twisting trail to the north west. Julius could see that by using the trail you could see huge distances in every direction. When he mentioned this to Gaius nodded. “Yes but the drawback is you can be see by hidden watchers. Today we tell any watchers that the Romans are back.”
The watchers he mentioned were watching from the very trail Gaius had shown Julius. One of them was running back to Aed even as Gaius and Julius turned east to drop down to the narrow neck of land between two lakes. They rested their horses in a flat area between the two still pieces of water. As they chewed on their stale bread Gaius pointed out where their Brigante allies had fought with the rebels. “We nearly managed to destroy the whole warband but instead we lost some fine warriors that day. Just there.”
The afternoon saw them climbing along the high escarpment to the east. “We will not go to the top but on the other side there is a dark valley and a long deep lake. We travelled up that way when we went to Brocavum and now we head back to see what Decius has managed in the way of building.” It was a pleasant ride back along the escarpment and then dropping down to the lakeside with the sun slowly setting over the incredibly still waters. When they crested the rise which overlooked the fort Julius was surprised to see the progress. “That’s because Decius hates building. The sooner it is built the sooner he can do what he likes doing best, killing Brigante.”
Aed was not surprised when the news reached him of the Roman incursion into his land. It had only been a question of time. Knowing that it was just the Pannonians made it sweeter for he wanted revenge and he knew that they must have many recruits in their ranks. Modius too was pleased. “I’ll finally get to gut that jumped up decurion Decius.”