by Griff Hosker
“Reflecting on the past Marcus?”
He almost jumped when the quiet voice of Agricola spoke. “A little. That campaign changed the way we fought and the way we thought about fighting. Yet we are travelling to the very edge of the known world.”
“Yes but the enemies we face are the same. They all fight the same way. It is only numbers that cause us problems. Our men are worth five of theirs. If we continue to be flexible, to use good defensive positions, to use missiles, men on horse, men on foot then we will beat them.” He leaned in confidentially. “Have we ever found a leader who could beat us? Have we ever been in danger of losing a battle?”
Remembering Prefect Demetrius, Marcus found the courage to say. “It was close up near the Taus.”
“You are right Marcus and that taught me a valuable lesson. It is the prefects and leaders that I need. If they trust me as I trust them and follow my orders exactly then we shall win.” He looked around conspiratorially. “That is why you and the other prefects I have fought alongside before are invaluable. Some of the others may turn out to be like Prefect Demetrius, I hope not but,” he looked directly at Marcus, “I would hope that you and the others would tell me next time before a disaster occurs. I need loyalty.”
Marcus was shocked, “Are you asking me to spy on the other prefects?”
“No. I am expecting you and Strabo, Sura and Bassus to make sure that all the prefects follow my orders and tell me if you think they are not.” His voice had become hard and Marcus could tell that he was being given an order.
“You know you never need to doubt my loyalty sir.”
The smile returned, “I know Marcus. I know.”
Marcus and his fellow prefects were astounded by the variety of landscapes they viewed. Once they left the estuary and turned north they saw vast beaches backed by huge sand dunes and pine forests. There appeared to be no humans at all, no sign of settlement, house, hut, shack, tumble of twigs, there was nothing to show man’s mark on the land. Even as Cominius saw land to the northwest the other two saw the peaks of the land of the lakes slowly rise like a smudge of smoke on the horizon, “That must be an island, look it is steep and has a mountain top but it does not spread like those mountains to the north east.”
“There is much more to this province than meets the eye.”
“And we are about to see much more of it I believe.”
They reached their destination soon after dark and Agricola decided that they would stay on the moored ships rather than risk a camp close to the enemy for although Marcus had cleared south of the estuary the lands to the north were most definitely hostile. The arrangement suited the prefects who enjoyed the fine food and wine of a generous general. “The fleet will be invaluable. I am assigning a marine to each auxiliary unit so that he can translate the signals from the fleet and transmit your requests. As you have experienced they can travel far faster than we on horses or foot. Today we were lucky to be able to use sail but they can row against the wind and still travel faster.”
“They do have powerful storms here general.”
“The commander knows that but there are many inlets and estuaries such as this one. I have ships from the fleet on the west coast. Even now they are sailing up to Morbium with reinforcements for the east coast invasion.”
“Do you think the tribes will fight or negotiate sir?”
“Good question Marcus. I am prepared to fight but I hope to negotiate. The Carvetii proved amenable to diplomacy after the last battle.”
Furius let out an enormous belch, “Was that the negotiations which followed the slaughter of thousands of their warriors?”
A slight tic was the only sign that Agricola did not like the comment from the outspoken Batavian. “A good point well made prefect. But if you remember there were Pictii and Caledonii there that they day so they may negotiate having had a lesson paid for by their Carvetii brethren.”
As the prefects left the next day to bring their commands to the new camp Agricola said to Marcus, “We will not be needing the fort for a while but we will need it. Do you think the locals would be likely to invest it?”
“I do not think so. We will be leaving the servants and slaves there to maintain the land so it will not be unoccupied. All the men who could fight fled or died. The land is empty. We need to encourage settlers for it is good land.”
“I know. Perhaps we will offer those soldiers who have served their time the opportunity to use the land.”
Marcus rode back to his fort excited for the first time in many years. He felt that they were on the edge of a major event. It had taken various Roman commanders thirty five years to defeat the southern half of the province; Agricola had taken less than four to finish the task. However big the land was they were about to invade Marcus had no doubt that this charismatic leader would accomplish that sooner rather than later. He was also filled with anticipation for he would be at the forefront. He would not be on the periphery as he was when Cerialis was governor, relying on the legions, he would be used decisively as in the campaigns in Wales and Mona.
Riding over the saddle near the two lakes he felt almost sad, like coming home for the last time. This fort had been his home for longer than any other place since he had left his home in Spain. He had built it and rebuilt it. He had started a family within it. He had lost comrades around. He knew he should not be sentimental but he could not help it.
“Call out the guard Prefect returning.” The bellowing voice of Decius welcomed him back to his command. “Good to have you back sir. When do we leave?”
If Decius had been expecting some time to pack he was mistaken. “Today. The general needs us. We are going to war.”
“Today! But…”
“Decius it is Marcus you are talking to. You and I know that you have everything ready to move and had I said within an hour you would have been ready.”
The grin in his face told the prefect he had been right. “Right sir. We taking everything? Knocking it down again?”
“No we are leaving the servants and the slaves they can continue to maintain it. Send them to me.”
While Decius raced around shouting orders to the whole ala, Marcus sat in his office to explain to the slaves and servants what would happen.
“You can’t leave us sir. We will work for you in the campaign.”
“Thank you Attius, thank you all.” He was quite touched that they seemed to hold the command in such high esteem. “We do not know where we will be campaigning but when we return we will be coming home and you need to make sure that we still have a home to come to. Sergeant Cato has arranged that the remounts will be sent from Derventio to here. They will need care. The vegetable gardens you have planted will need to be tended. The animals we have bred will need to be cared for. We are going to do what soldiers do. You who remain here must do what you do. Keep our home safe.”
Each one promised and swore the most sacred oaths that they would do so and Marcus felt slightly guilty for he did not know if they would ever return. However he felt he had done all he could for these people who had served his men so well.
Chapter 10
By the time the Ninth had reach Luguvalium all of the auxiliary forces had arrived. The fleet had sailed up and down the coast ferrying the legionaries to their new fortress. The First Cohort had laid out the site and Marcus was amazed at how quickly it rose from the ground. The fact that it was half built told Marcus that the legion would not be participating in the first part of this campaign. Agricola’s engineers had built a bridge close to the fortress and the auxiliary camps were all on the northern bank.
Marcus saw a different side to the general when he was summoned to the headquarters. Agricola was dictating to a clerk and Marcus offered to withdraw but Agricola beckoned in him. “And I would urge you to encourage the chiefs and nobles to adopt Roman habits and customs. To that end I authorise you to build baths, schools and public buildings for the people around Eboracum. “He turned to another clerk. “Have copi
es sent to Lindum, Deva and Luguvalium, just change the names. I will sign them later. Sit down Marcus.” He noticed Marcus’ look. “We can never win the war simply by winning all the battles. If we can make their leaders Roman then they will become Roman. Baths and schools are not expensive and they are certainly cheaper than men’s lives. Now then this is what I require of your ala…”
As Marcus walked back to his tent his mind was partly on the instructions he had just been given and secondly the master class in diplomacy he had just received. He thought back to the first governor he had encountered, Marcus Bolanus; it was hard to picture a bigger contrast. Bolanus had despised everything about the natives and went out of his way to disparage and degrade them. Had he not done so perhaps his soldiers would not have approached mutiny and the Brigante might not have rebelled.
“Right Decius, mount the ala, full marching kit and rations for four days. The general has sent a bolt thrower stick it on a pack mule.”
“Yes sir.” If he was surprised then Decius did not show it. Within the hour the column was moving northwards across the newly finished bridge heading for Novontae territory. Ahead of the Gaelwyn had galloped off and was now a distant speck on the horizon. They appeared to be heading northeast and Decius ventured the question which was on all their minds. “Sir, where are we going?”
“Actually I don’t know.”The answer stunned the normally voluble Decurion Princeps into silence. “That is why Gaelwyn is scouting. Do you remember a couple of years ago when Flavinius Bellatoris was wounded, when we defeated the Novontae?” Decius nodded. “Well this is their land but they don’t appear to have one place which is a large town. Our job is to find them.”
“Find them and fight them?”
“Find them and neutralise them.”
“Neutralise them? Is that another way of saying slaughtering them?”
“Not necessarily. If they are small bands then we might be able to frighten them with our numbers or perhaps persuade them that we want nothing from this land, just peace.”
“Oh that is well that is different.”
“You have seen the general. Does he ever do things the way other generals do?”
“Well no,” he suddenly started as though stung by a bee,” that’s why us, because we beat them and let them leave with honour.”
“Well done Decius, got it in one.”
Puffing up like a child praised for reciting Homer well Decius beamed. “Well now I understand it I can explain it.”
“Not yet Decius, let us see how the Novontae take to our invasion of their heartland.”
Gaelwyn returned in the mid afternoon. Marcus was contemplating a camp when the scout galloped in. “There are three settlements close by. One is a hill fort, a Roman day’s ride away.”
Ignoring the sarcasm Marcus said, “And the other two are they closer?”
“One is in the next valley and the other at the head of the valley.”
“Good we will visit the first one. Decius warn the decurions we are going to be in potentially dangerous territory. Be alert but I want hands off weapons. Take your turma to the rear where you can cover us with your archers if there is a problem. Send Gaius and his turma to take your place.” Now that he understood the strategy Decius rode cheerfully back with his turma. “Gaelwyn ride next to me. You may need to translate.
“Then perhaps you had better get a duck for these people speak their own language which sounds like ducks mating.”
“Just translate, leave the insults to Decius, he has had more practice.” When Gaius joined him Marcus ordered them forward. “Gaius we are going to try to persuade these people that we are their friends. We may have to fight but I hope not. I have chosen you and your turma because your troopers are like their decurion, calm and measured. That is what we need today Not sparks to ignite fires.”
Blushing at the compliment Gaius murmured,”Yes sir. Thank you sir.”
As they crested the rise Marcus saw the tiny stockade of round huts. Their appearance sent the tribesmen into a panic and he saw them racing around like ants when a rock is moved. Keeping his hands from his weapons Marcus and Gaelwyn led the silent column down. He could feel himself sweating; when he had heard the idea put forward by Agricola it had seemed reasonable but what if they unleashed a volley of arrow? He, Gaelwyn and Gaius would be the first to die and then what? The whole thing would be a catastrophe. He saw some armed men rush to bar the gate whilst the others lined the palisade. In itself it was not a barrier, his horses could leap it and his men outnumbered the warriors he could see. He halted the column a hundred paces from the settlement and rode forward with the scout.
Speaking Latin he said, “I would like to speak to the chief.”
There was no reply and Marcus nodded to Gaelwyn who spoke, “The Roman wishes to speak with the chief.”
The gate opened a little and a large, squat warrior with an enormous war axe in his hand stepped out. He spoke in halting Latin. “I am Ferdia and I am headman of these people. What do you want we have done nothing wrong?” His tone was that of an injured party who has been accused of some crime.
“I come in peace Ferdia.”
“You come in peace with a warband bigger than my whole village. That to me does not look like peace.”
“It is not long since the Novontae made war on Romans. I remember a warband raiding close to the hills to the south.”
The man nodded.”I was in that warband. We fought your cavalry.” He peered at Marcus. “Was it this cavalry?”
“Yes it was this cavalry.”
“We have been peaceful since then, as we promised.”
“Yes and yet some of the Novontae joined the Brigante king in rebellion.”
“Not from my people.”
“Perhaps but how would we know? We need to find who are our friends and who are our enemies which is why we travel as a warband but a warband which brings peace to those who would be our friends.”
“Peace?”
“Yes my general is moving north to make this land part of Rome and bring the benefits of Rome.”
“Wait here Roman.”
“What do you think Gaelwyn?”
“This man does not fight.”
“I agree.”
The warrior returned, without his weapon and he opened the gate. “It is not right that men discuss such things in a field. If your men make camp then we can talk in my home.”
“It is good.” He turned to the Brigante scout, “Ride back to Decius and ask him to set up camp, but out of sight of the village. I don’t want to offend them for our camps look a little too much like forts.”
Gaelwyn nodded his approval. “You have learned much from me prefect, including wisdom.”
Ignoring the comment he continued,” Then return to me for I may need your translation skills.” He lowered his voice. “I will need you to listen to them speak amongst themselves.”
As he ducked into the hut he was hit by a fug of heat from the fire roaring away in the middle. The hut belied its size for, inside there were ten warriors as well as what Marcus took to be Ferdia’s family busily preparing the food. There was a space left for the chief and Marcus and after a nodded approval from Ferdia he sat down.
“Thank you for you hospitality Chief Ferdia.”
“I am not chief. Our chief died in the raid.” He looked carefully at Marcus. “He was the warrior who attacked after our king surrendered.”
Marcus remembered it well for the blow had ended the career of Flavinius Bellatoris, a former prefect. “He did not think the terms were honourable.”
“He did not but I will not speak ill of the dead for he has passed over.”
“And your king?”
“He died in the battle on the other side of the river. There is no king now. For all his family were killed at the battle and we have not chosen our new one yet.”
Gaelwyn entered and, after a nod from Ferdia he sat down next to Marcus. An older, very small woman, Marcus took to be Ferdia�
�s wife brought him a bowl and spooned a stew into it. Before she gave some to Gaelwyn she looked him in the eye for even sat down Marcus was almost on eye level. “Do you come for war Roman to kill the last of our children?”
Ferdia shouted, “Woman know your place. You have disgraced me.”
Marcus smiled, “No mother. I have come to end the wars so that your children’s children can have peace.” She nodded and served Gaelwyn. They ate in silence for a while Marcus realising from the glance given by Gaelwyn that the custom was not to speak whilst eating. In truth he was enjoying the stew which, like much of the food in the area was gamey and tasty. He could not identify all of the game animals but from the tiny bones there were many small creatures in it. When he had finished Marcus said, “Thank you for the food.”
“Now we have eaten, we can talk.”
Marcus looked each man in the eye as he spoke for he saw that this was more of a council than a gathering of warriors. “My general wants nothing from your people but peace. He wants to give you buildings for trade and for education. He wants to give you roads and he wants to give you protection.”
“We have given you peace without being asked. We need neither buildings nor roads. Why should things change?”
“All things change Ferdia. Neither you nor I are the same boys who played in the fields and hunted rabbits. The buildings we bring are warmer in the winter and cooler in the summer. Our education means you will be able to make more of the things you need. The roads we bring will enable you to travel and trade with other villages. All of this means that you will prosper. The protection we offer means that our ships will stop the Irish raiders coming for your children. Our forts, to the north and to the south, will stop the raids from the Pictii and Caledonii, will stop your children being taken as slaves.”