by Griff Hosker
In an excited voice filled with the emotion of the memory of those who died because of the faithless king, Radha asked, “When?”
Calmly Morwenna turned to her and said, “Why tonight of course, in his own rooms with not an enemy warrior in sight.”
Chapter 13
With little time to prepare, the Steward had had to make do with whatever came to hand. He evicted three of the king’s bodyguards from the two rooms adjacent to the King’s. The two queens were thus adequately accommodated. He gave up his own room for their female attendants as he and his wife had a room in the main hall and then he turned his attention to the food. As the king had been hunting,there was plenty of meat but the queens would want something more refined and sophisticated after the meal. The cook was a plain man who did not know other than to serve hearty and filling meals, delicacy he didn’t do. It was the steward’s wife who found the solution. “There are many berries in season, mix them with some whipped cream, some honey and a little toasted oatmeal and just put them in wee bowls. They will love it.” The Steward kissed her and then inclined his head, “Aye you big soft lump I’ll make it for you but mark ye I’ll be wanted a shift just like yon queen that the men canna take their eyes off. I won’t be as bonny but I’ll do.”
He kissed her again. “Aye ye’ll more than do for me bonnie lass.” Relieved that the sudden influx of guests and dignitaries had been deal with he next began to house the guards and bodyguards. There was no room in the main hall and so King’s Aindreas’ bodyguards would sleep behind the main door of the hall preventing any attack during the night. Although the Votadini came in peace the Steward was taking no chances. It also had the advantage of holding the two queens inside the hall, not exactly hostages but surety for the good behaviour of their men. The extra men were given the materials to build themselves a shelter abutting the ramparts. He dusted his hands off as he went back into the kitchen to taste the feast that was being prepared.
Radha sought out Morwenna as soon as she could. “Tonight? Have you a plan?”
“Of course. I’ll flatter the young Tole and persuade him that he would like to visit me after the house has gone to bed. You will ingratiate yourself with the Steward and his wife. Make them like you, “she smiled genuinely, “it will not be hard for you have the face and the personality that people naturally like. When you go to bed make a little noise so that I will have to come in to see you. I will slip along to the king’s room and place a potion in the drink he keeps by his bed.”
“How do you know that?”
“I checked before we came into these rooms. One of the servants was putting an amphora and beaker there.” She smiled knowingly. “Many men, especially of a certain age, do the same thing.”
“How do you know that he will not be abed before us?”
“That part is easy. We will steer the conversation to the potential of an alliance between the Selgovae and the Votadini and how easy and glorious it will be to defeat the Romans. He and his entourage will sit up half the night plotting and the only two who will not be suspected will be us two for I will be abed with the Prince of the Selgovae and you will have spent the evening, being as friendly as can be, offering an alliance. Besides which the potion I intend to use will make it look as though his heart has stopped. It is the belladonna which I will use.”
The king was so pleased with the feast that he ordered the whole of the assembly to toast the wonderful organisation of his Steward who had managed all in such a short space of time. Tole was totally mesmerized by the beautiful Morwenna and hung on to her every word. Her mellifluous words and heady perfume intoxicating him as much as the ale he supped. When Radha offered the alliance to the assemble body she thought that their work would be done for them and the king would die on his feet in a surfeit of joy so great was the effusive nature of his reaction. She and the steward’s wife took to swapping recipes and ideas for dresses this allowed the king and the Steward to begin to plot and plan how they would defeat the Romans. The polite conversations with the women could now be replaced by more manly talk of arms and strategy, logistics and battles.
With all the attention on Radha and the king Morwenna went to work on the gullible young warrior. Morwenna had dressed simply but used her potions, perfumes and charms to enchant the warrior prince who had spent the last six years perfecting the art of becoming a warrior. He had never met a woman like Morwenna; the rough and tumbles and furtive sexual encounters had been with milking maids and servants. His meeting with the Red Witch would open not only his eyes, but also his mind to the wiles and ways of older women. Morwenna was the consummate sexual predator and Tole stood no chance of resisting her, even had he wished to. She leaned on an elbow, her green eyes like pools in the forest into which Tole fell. She ran the back of a tapered fingernail down his hair line to gently remove a stray lock of his red hair. “Our hair is almost the same colour young prince, perhaps it is a sign.”
“Oh no my Queen for yours is lustrous and flows like the Tinea on a spring morning mine is rough and uncontrolled. Like my heart which beats like a wild stallion galloping over the hills.”
“Your honeyed tongue is trying to woo me young prince.”
“My tongue is doing what my heart wishes it to do.” By now the warrior was so aroused that he was almost becoming embarrassed and was grateful for the table which covered his legs.
Morwenna slipped her hand between his legs, hidden by the groaning table of dishes and beakers; it was unobserved by any in the hall. She said quietly, in a husky voice, which further aroused Tole, “And not just your heart.”She leaned in and whispered in his ear, her darting tongue just touching the lobe, “shall we go to your room?”
No-one saw Morwenna and Tole slip away, until the king saw the empty chairs and realised that his son had done what he had intended to attempt later in the feast. He was, at first, a little discomfited and put out but he knew that, with the wine and aqua vitae he had consumed he would not have done the queen justice, and he smiled philosophically. It would be a conquest by proxy and in his time the old king had bedded many a high born lady. He would enjoy the night with his peers and relive the memories of past wars and battles.
Radha had kept her wits about her and watched as the two lovers stole away. Turning to the wife of the Steward she said, “I am tired, it has been a long an exhilarating day, I should like to go to my room. Which one is it?”
“I will show you.” Bowing to the king, the two ladies left the main hall and Radha was shown to her room. The wife of the Steward and the Steward were staying on the opposite side of the settlement and she hurried to get to her much needed bed anxious to be asleep before a drunken, and, no doubt, amorous husband left the king for their marital bed..
Radha waited a suitable amount of time for the older woman to wend her way across the camp and then she gave a sudden shout. She waited a few moments and then went to open her door. Keeping watch on the bedroom of Morwenna and Tole, she watched Morwenna slip into the king’s chamber, as she did so she said, “What is it Radha? Nightmares?” and disappeared to slip the poison into the beaker and amphora of wine.
Radha carried on the deception by answering, “Nothing my lady. I was just frightened by a shadow.”
Morwenna closed the door of the chamber and said loudly so that Tole would hear and be flattered, ”Sleep well. I fear I will get little sleep tonight.”
As Radha closed the door she smiled as she imagined Tole hearing those words. Young men were the same the whole world over. The meeting with Morwenna had merely revealed to her the power women had over men. On the journey north she had reflected on all the actions of the men in her life, including her father and she saw that they could be so easily controlled by powerful women. Her father, Tam, would still do anything his daughter wanted, all she had to do was flutter her eyes and cuddle in to him and he would comply with any request.
When Aindreas retired, escorted by two of his chamberlains, he was a little unsteady on his feet but not d
runk. The two men ensured that the room was safe; one of them poured wine from the jug he carried, into the beaker by the bed. When they were satisfied that the king was safe they said goodnight and then one lay outside the door whilst the other slept behind the door. No-one could enter and do the king harm without risking the wrath of the two bodyguards. While many kings felt safe in their own fortress Aindreas trusted no-one. He applied his own standards to everyone else. Just as he would stab a brother in the back so he worried that his son might do the same to him. He settled in to the bed and turned to sleep. He had thought that he had drunk more but perhaps it was the excitement of Radha’s announcement which had intoxicated him. He knew that he needed more drink to sleep comfortably and not be disturbed by his limbs, which increasingly ached , the older he became. He took a good swallow from the beaker and felt the liquid warm his old body. It felt very comfortable and he drained the beaker. He would sleep well on this auspicious night. Inside his body the drug, carefully concocted by Morwenna seeped swiftly through his veins and made its insidious way through his body. It was not a quick drug but it was effective and, coursing through his body, it made its inevitable way to his heart. The pain he received made him sit bolt upright in bed and clutch as his chest. He shouted and the chamberlain behind the door leapt to his feet.
“My king what is it?”
The other chamberlain entered, sword in hand and looked at his companion. The king’s eyes were wide open and he groaned, “My heart!” rolled over and died.
The two guards spun around as Morwenna and Tole appeared in the doorway. Tole waved away the sword. “What is it?”
“Your father, mighty King Aindreas of the Selgovae, is dead sire.”
“How?” Tole looked suspiciously at the unsheathed blades of the two guards and then relaxed a little when he saw that they were clean.
“He sat upright in bed, clutched his chest and said, ’my heart’ and then he died.”
Morwenna went to the king’s side. “Let me look at him. I have seen many men die.” The chamberlains stepped back as the witch passed. The fear in their eyes amused the murderess as she placed her head next to the king’s mouth. She stood and placed her hands on his chest. “Your father is dead. I fear his heart has burst. You are now king your majesty.” As she stood she managed to, clumsily knock the amphora to the floor where it shattered. No one would drink the poisoned wine and create suspicion. “Sorry King Tole. Your father was a good king and I am clumsy.”
Morwenna had been very clever. The King of the Selgovae had to be chosen by the peers of the land. It was not inevitable that Tole would become king. Morwenna needed him as king for that would guarantee that the Selgovae would fight Rome. She watched as the two chamberlains dropped to their knees and said, “Your majesty.”
Radha entered the room, her face suitably distraught followed by the Steward and others who had been close by and heard the commotion.
The Steward took it all in, the King, obviously dead, the lack of blood and the two chamberlains kneeling. He dropped to his knee, as did the others as he said, “The king is dead, long live the king.” Morwenna smiled in triumph as did Radha, their smiles hidden by their hands as they feigned tears.
* * * * * *
When Radha finally reached Traprain Law, their arrival had been heralded by scouts and the King had lined the route to the oppidum with his army and his people. The King was besotted with Radha and had sorely missed her whilst she had been away. Her two letters had been read and re-read until he knew their contents by heart. Now that she had returned he vowed never to let her leave his sight again. His hill fort was far to the north of the land of the Romans both remote and safe from a sudden revenge raid from an enemy still smarting from a major defeat. Had his wife’s settlement of Tamburgh not been raided by the Roman barbarians, he doubted that he would ever have ventured so far south with his army but that raid had guaranteed his enmity. It had also created, in the King’s mind, a hatred for Aindreas of the Selgovae. During his wife’s absence he would have destroyed the traitor but for her letter which urged caution and restraint until she returned with ideas gleaned from Morwenna. He trusted his wife, he knew that many other men did not, but Lugubelenus did for he knew that she had a brain and mind as sharp as a keenly honed blade.
As he watched the entourage wend its way between lines of cheering crowds he resisted the urge to gallop down and sweep her in his arms. He was a young king but he had a wise head on his shoulders and knew that he had to maintain the dignity of the crown at all times. When she finally reached the gate she dismounted and she ran to him, kneeling before him to kiss his hand. “My husband I am sorry that I have tarried so long away from my heart’s desire. Please forgive me.”
Lugubelenus raised her up and, embracing her, kissed her long and hard. The roar from the people showed their approbation. When she stepped back she gestured with her hand. “And this is our honoured guest Morwenna, Queen of the Brigantes.”
“Welcome Queen to my humble settlement.”
“Thank you mighty destroyer of Romans. I look forward to our discussions and plans.”
Had Lugubelenus been any other king then he might have been a little put out by the thought of a discussion with a woman, albeit a queen, but he had learned in his short time as king that listening to the widest number of views usually resulted in the greatest success. “And I you, come let us go to the quarters I have prepared. Your men can sleep in my guard’s quarters, the hall of the warriors. It is a large hall and they will be close to you.”
Morwenna noticed the contrast between the reception of the Selgovae and that of the Votadini; it was the difference in confidence between the two rulers. Lugubelenus trusted his men and his people and the results could be seen in the warm welcome they received. As the King led his Queen towards their chambers Morwenna followed close enough to listen in to their conversation. “How many will be attending the conclave my husband?”
“All who were invited.” He had a wry smile on his face. “Who would refuse free hospitality in the coldest time of the year?”
Radha stopped and turned to halt all but Morwenna. “We would be alone for a while. We shall see you all at the feast.” Once they had passed the gateway and the guards Radha, a sly smiling dancing on her face said, “You will need to set a place for another for Tole will be attending.”
“Tole?” The name was familiar to Lugubelenus but he could not place it or the man.
“Yes, King Tole, the new king of the Selgovae son of the dead betrayer of hopes, Aindreas.”
The King was a man without guile and his face betrayed his raw emotion. “ A Selgovae! Under my roof never!”
Morwenna slipped her arm into that of the king so that he was flanked by both women. “It was his father Aindreas who betrayed you. Not his son and not his people. They resented the dishonour and Aindreas is now dead.”
“Dead? How?”
The two women shared a knowing look and Radha leaned up to kiss her husband. “His heart.”
The King looked dubious, “But…”
“Best you not ask husband, let us just say that we have had our revenge.” She leaned up and kissed him gently.
As they entered the fortress Wolf and Quintus reflected on the change in their fortunes. They had been accepted by Morwenna’s men although shunned by the Votadini. It mattered little to the two deserters. They were fed and they were safe for the moment, at least. They were phlegmatic about their situation. Things could only get better and they both awaited their summons from Morwenna when their fate would be decided.
* * * * * *
Livius was pleased with the new recruits. They were well trained, disciplined and, so far had shown their loyalty for the entire world to see. All the patrols had yielded little sound intelligence and the reason was obvious to the Decurion Princeps who knew that was because it was harvest time and warriors were too busy bringing in crops to be interested in raiding. He was just grateful that they had not done so in the summer b
efore his men were trained. He and Cassius had also discussed the possibility of longer forays into the land of the Votadini to see what they could discover. The ways of the Explorate were difficult to forget and both men knew that they could easily discover more information by donning disguises and visiting settlements. When the nights began to grow colder he called a meeting of the decurions. He and Cassius had already planned their strategy and were both in agreement.
“Gentlemen you have done well so far but now it is time to build on that success. I have sent a message to the Prefect at Coriosopitum and he has agreed that we can winter there. There is an old cavalry fort south of the river which we can refortify. We have put upon Marcus Arvina enough.” The Prefect was in the corner and he shook his head in disagreement. He would miss the lively troopers and their officers but it would be good to get back to the normal routine. “We leave tomorrow and we will begin a different strategy. Myself and those turmae commanded by an Explorate will venture into Votadini territory to discover what they intend. Decurion Spartianus and the new decurions will patrol the south bank of the Tinea to control any incursions.”
The newer decurions looked dismayed. It sounded as though the Decurion Princeps had put them under the command of the hated Spartianus. They fidgeted and looked as though they were going to object until they caught the subtle shake of the head from Cassius. Spartianus, for his part, was surprised and delighted. Although his cronies were spread amongst the other turmae he had begun to bully and coerce a couple of the younger recruits and was busy building up allies again. Who knew, he might even subvert some of the other officers.
“Any questions?”
The quartermaster coughed. “When do we leave sir? It’s just that I have wagons and mules to load and…”
Appius Sabinus was a fussy though efficient officer and Livius knew he could be trusted. “You will follow whenever you are ready. Turmae twelve will escort you. The rest of us will leave,” he paused dramatically, “now!”