by Griff Hosker
Once they were less than fifty paces from the ditch Wolf halted them. He spoke quietly to Angus, their dull covered cloaks blending in with the earth to provide good cover. “We’ll get as close to the gate as we can and L will look to see if I recognise any of the sentries. If I do I’ll risk a conversation.”
Angus shook his head. “If you are captured then it is all up with us.”
“No it isn’t, you still have Quintus, still, and unless it is one of the newer officers they probably won’t turn me in. I am not stupid, I will wait until I see someone I recognise who might be amenable.”
“We could be here forever.”
“No we won’t. They change the guards every four hours, especially at night. I am sure that I can spot someone in that time.” He shrugged, “Just one night in the cold eh Angus? We’ll head back to the horses in the morning before the sun is up if I don’t recognise anyone.” Reluctantly Angus agreed. They settled down to wait. Wolf was curious, the gate was still open and yet it was close to sundown when it was normally closed he was speculating on the reason why when he heard the clatter of hooves from the west. They pressed themselves down hard into the cold ground. The last patrol from the west was coming in and they rode for the road to turn at right angles and enter the southern gate, the Porta Decumana. The road passed within a few paces of their hiding place. Yet Angus had chosen their sanctuary well for there was a scrubby bramble which had sprung up and not, as yet been removed, its black berries still adorning it and the leaves afforded cover whilst still allowing them to spy beyond.
As the turma turned on to the road, Wolf desperately sought out a friendly face. Each one was a newcomer, from the decurion and signifier all the way through the ranks. He thought the Allfather had deserted them until he saw one figure hanging back from the rest as though wishing to detach him and his horse from the rest of the turma. He immediately recognised the unmistakeable figure of The Fist, probably his oldest friend. He was fifteen paces from the last man and Wolf heard the decurion shout, “Come on you lazy bastard. I have my eye on you. Three of your mates deserted; let’s not make it four eh?”
Wolf heard his friend mutter, “Fuck you.”
As his horse clattered on the road next to them Wolf called , “Fist!” The Fist glanced down in surprise at the source of the call. He saw Wolf hold his finger to his lips and The Fist gave a subtle nod and galloped on. As they entered the gates, they were closed behind them and Wolf was suddenly aware of the darkness around them.
“Can you trust that one?”
“Believe me he is the nearest thing I have to a brother. I can trust him. The question is how will he make contact? I know he will but how?”
The answer came an hour after the darkness had fallen. The gate suddenly opened and they heard a conversation between the officer on duty and The Fist. “I know you are a dozy lump but how in the Allfather’s name could you misplace your cloak?”
“It was when the decurion told me to hurry up I was so keen to catch up that I didn’t notice it fall.”
“Well if the Votadini are out there they are welcome to your balls. Knock on the gate when you return.” He laughed, “If you return. I would buy a new one rather than risk being captured.”
There was a flash of light from with the fort and then darkness as the gates were slammed shut. They could both hear The Fist’s caligae on the stones of the road and could hear his mutterings. “It has to be here somewhere I know.”
“Psst!”
The Fist halted near to the bush and began to scratch his head and then he walked around the bush as though looking for the lost cloak. “I thought you would be long gone, Wolfie, or dead. You got a friend there?”
“Aye a Votadini.” He saw the hand go to the dagger and said quietly, “A friend and he will be a friend to both of us. Listen we haven’t got much time. Is the decurion still around?”
“Yes. Not happy but he is still around. Why?”
“Tell him if he wants to make a little money and get back at the Decurion Princeps he should meet me tomorrow north of the Batavian fort at….”
“Can’t do that, he is confined to south of the river. It’s only Sallustius’ pets who go north.”
“Right well then meet us at the island west of here towards sunset. Think he can manage that?”
“Should be able to. He has a couple of men in his turma who will help.” He suddenly bent down and took his cloak from under his mail, “Ah there it is.” He said loudly, “I am tempted to come with you and do a runner. I fucking hate this army!”
“Better you stay there for a while. I will explain to Aelius.”
“Be safe Wolfie, I miss your hairy little face.” He tramped back to the fort waving the cloak above his head for the sentries to see. They heard him bang on the door and then saw the light as it was opened and he was readmitted to the fort.
“Well Angus. Trust me now?”
The hint of a crease of almost a smile appeared on the Votadini face. “A little more Roman but we shall see. Let us just say I prefer your company now to the sour faced Gwynfor.”
“Steady on big fella, I am not that sort.”
Chapter 15
The next morning began as any other in the fort. The sentries were changed; since moving from Morbium Livius had used one turma each day to be on duty and guard the fort. This close to the enemy it was not safe to spread the Batavian infantry’s duties. They would be the first point of an attack. He and the Explorate decurions left just after dawn to begin their daily, and as yet fairly fruitless, patrols to try to discover the state of the frontier’s security.
Cassius was the duty decurion, having had six consecutive days of patrol. His troopers would, apart from performing their sentry duties be able to mend and repair broken equipment and just have some quiet time. Cassius and Livius were well aware of the need for such time. It kept troopers sharp; if they had been further from danger he would have allowed them to go out hunting but here it was just too dangerous. They were living in a war zone.. He checked the gates and walls to ensure that half of his turma were at their posts. They were a sound enough group of men. The one trooper he had had from Spartianus’ crew had learned to join in with the others after his face had met the fists of his comrades when he slept through one shift. Now Cassius knew that they would change duties without any monitoring from him. He decided he would see how Julius was getting on with the map. As he was crossing the parade ground he heard the strident voice of Drusus, Decurion of the twelfth turma. He had only recently been promoted; one of the older members of the ala, Livius had recognised in him qualities of leadership which would help some of the younger decurions to emulate.
Cassius shook his head in dismay. It was The Fist and they had thought that they were actually winning with the malcontents. “Now then, I let it go last night, losing your cloak, having the gate opened, being a general pain in the Imperial arse. I even overlooked the fact that you lagged behind the rest but this.” He spread his hands in an exasperated manner.
Cassius could see Spurius and Aelius preparing to leave with their turmae but watching how the newly promoted decurion dealt with The Fist. Cassius decided to take a hand and help the decurion out. “What is it Drusus?”
“ Nothing sir.” Cassius looked at him patiently for a few seconds and the Decurion sighed, and continued. “It is this man sir. He reckons he is sick but the capsarius can find nothing wrong with him. “He glared at the huge brute of a man. “I think he is malingering sir.”
The Fist affected a look of outraged indignation. “I am not! I have a gut ache something chronic.”
Septimus was just passing on his way to the kitchen area. “Well don’t blame my food, toss pot, no-one else is suffering!”
Cassius could see this degenerating into farce. “The decurion is right. It is your turn to patrol so deal with it.”
Cassius did not see the look flicked at Spartianus but suddenly the decurion dismounted and said. “If I can be of help decurion. I know
this man and he has always had a funny gut. With the decurion’s permission I will take him to my tent and give him a draught of my special medicine. I guarantee that it will cure him.” Drusus looked at them suspiciously and then at Cassius, who nodded, equally perplexed at this sudden display of concern.
“Well that is strange. I have never known Spartianus to be helpful. Keep your eye on the situation Drusus. Let me know if you need me, I will be in the Principia with the clerk.”
“I’ll handle it sir, but thank you.”
In the tent Aelius said quickly, “Come on man out with it. I know you want to tell me something but what is the urgency?”
“Its Wolfie sir. He’s back and he’s with the Votadini.”
Spartianus was taken aback. “You’ve see him?”
“Last night. He said for you to meet him today at the island in the river west of the fort before sunset. He has money, lots of money, and an offer to help get rid of Sallustius. Do you know the island he spoke of?”
“Yes I passed it the other day. What do you make of the offer?” Aelius was tempted but he knew that barbarians sometimes used tricks like this to capture prisoners. Still it was Wolf and he was loyal…
“He had a big Votadini with him but he seemed genuine enough.”
“What about Quintus?”
“I didn’t have time to ask.” He paused. “You are going then?”
“I can’t see what I have to lose. It’s not like they are working with Sallustius is it? That is the enemy. Now you go and keep your nose clean today. Don’t give them the chance to be suspicious. This may be the chance we have waited for.”
Drusus looked at them suspiciously as they came out. The Fist sprang like a new born lamb on to the back of his horse saying, “Ready sir!”
Drusus peered at Aelius’ innocent face, he knew them of old, “You must let me have a taste of that special medicine. Never seen anything work as fast in my life.”
“Old family secret! Just for my special friends.”
From the office Cassius watched as the patrols left and wondered just what was going on. He would have to mention it Livius when he returned. If it wasn’t the Votadini, it was the enemy within. He turned to look at the map. “It’s coming on nicely Julius.”
“Huh. It would come on better if I had some actual measurements. You decurions are all a little vague.”
“Well I am sure the Decurion Princeps would be happy to let you accompany us with your measure.”
“No thank you adjutant. This is dangerous enough for me. Besides I am using mathematics and the measurements I do know to fill in the gaps.”
“How do you mean?” Cassius was genuinely interested.
“We know the width of the road and the length of the road, by using a groma we can calculate the heights and if you decurions relate every height to the ridge at the end of the road from Corio then we have a rough approximation.”
Cassius was impressed. “Good. I will tell the decurions at the briefing and you should have more accurate information from now on.”
* * * * * *
Wolf had chosen their meeting place well for there was a small stand of trees which hid them from casual view. He was certain that they would not be betrayed but they had a good escape route if it was needed. Wolf liked to get out of trouble as fast as he entered it. Gwynfor was the only one who was unhappy as the four of them waited for Aelius to appear. “It is too risky waiting here all afternoon!”
“We have explained you dozy sheep shagger that we have to be here out of sight when the patrol comes. We saw them all leave this morning and that is why. It is safe.”
Angus laughed at Gwynfor’s pouting. His face still showed the marks of Angus’ punch and there was a gap where a tooth had been lost. Gwynfor was losing the little credibility had had. “But how do we know he will come?”
“He will come.” Quintus spoke confidently. He for one would be much happier when Aelius was with them. Somehow the officer seemed to make things happen.
“How do you know? You weren’t even there!”
Quintus smiled an enigmatic smile. “I know Aelius Spartianus and I know that the lure of money will draw him like a moth to a flame.”
That had been two hours ago and they had all taken a turn at watching. Hearing the hooves on the Stanegate Quintus awoke them. “Someone coming.”
All of them gripped a weapon. Although three of them believed it would work all of them knew that they were in danger of being captured by one of the other patrols criss-crossing the valley. Wolf hissed, “It’s them. I can see Aelius.”
They watched as Aelius reined in his horse and dismounted to look at its hoof. He stood to say something to the men and then twenty nine troopers rode slowly east leaving Aelius with two men on the other bank. Aelius left his own horse with one of the two men, mounted the trooper’s horse and then waded across the river. As he climbed the bank he said, “Wolf! You there?” The four of them all had swords pointing at Spartianus’ throat as he dismounted. “What’s this I thought I was invited? Not very friendly is it?”
“You were supposed to come” hissed Angus, “alone!” He gestured with his sword at the two men peering at the island.
“Don’t worry, they are trusted men. It would have looked strange if I had waited here by myself in enemy country. Someone said something about money and revenge?” He smiled as Wolf threw the bag of gold to him which he easily and deftly caught. Aelius opened it, tested one coin with his teeth and put it in his pouch. “And there will be more?”
Gwynfor had had enough of others stealing his thunder and he stepped forward. “There will be more if you come up with the goods.”
“The goods?”
“Yes information. What is the cavalry doing? What is happening behind the lines?”
“I can do that but how does that help me with Sallustius?”
Wolf had a sly look on his face. “Well how about the Decurion Princeps being ambushed, along with his little band of brothers eh? Then you would be in charge again.”
“That sounds like a better idea. Right well here it is so far. The old Explorates are leading their men deep into Votadini territory to find out what the defences are. The Batavians are building up their defences and the new Emperor is coming with more soldiers. There is talk of a new legion coming to replace the Ninth.”
Gwynfor looked at Angus and then Wolf. To Aelius he said, “When?”
“Won’t be this year. Too late in the season. Probably next year is a more likely option. The Emperor will be travelling from the East and that takes time. He has concluded his peace there and then he will need to go to Rome. Since the Decurion Princeps met the Emperor the little toadies around him talk of nothing else.”
Wolf stepped forward, “Do you know where the Decurion Princeps takes his patrols? We could take him out sooner rather than later.”
Spartianus almost spat his answer out, “No he doesn’t tell us that. His dogsbody, Cassius, allocates us minions our patrols along the river. The rest leave the fort and then we find out when they return where they have actually been.”
“We can still do something.” He turned to the two barbarians. “If Morwenna gives us enough men we can wait at our camp and ambush them as they leave the fort.”
“That could work. You had better go and catch your men.”
“How will I contact you again?”
Angus looked around and he saw the old remains of a tree which had been struck by lightning and was now a hollowed blackened stump. “Leave a piece of red cloth here if you want to talk and we’ll meet the following evening about this time. If we need to talk to you it will be a dead crow we hang from the top.”
Quintus looked at him in amazement, “A crow! Where the fuck are you going to get a crow?”
In answer Angus took one from his saddle bags. Wolf just said, “I am not even going to ask!”
* * * * *
The first biting snows of winter had fallen on the oppidum at Traprain Law when the
group of scouts returned. Morwenna had seen their approach and she and Radha greeted them at her quarters just outside the wall. Wolf noticed that there were even more huts proliferating outside the walls as more and more kings, princes and chiefs arrived for the conclave. The cold that was on the ground had made travelling easier but all knew that, when the snow fell in earnest, travel would become much more difficult. The last wagons were pulling up the slope from the road leading to the sea and the little fishing port where the barrels of meats and wines had finally finished arriving. The King and his Steward were busy allocating quarters. Although normally a task for the Steward alone only the King could hope to know who were allies and who were potential enemies. If Morwenna’s conclave were to work then it had to be a harmonious meeting with only one outcome, an alliance against Rome.
Morwenna and Radha were therefore left alone to question the four men. Morwenna gauged the mood the moment they walked through the door and she knew, instinctively, that Gwynfor had not done all that she requested. She and Radha sat on the throne on the raised dais, each one slumped at each side of the enormous seat. The four men looked at each other, not knowing who should speak first.
Morwenna looked directly and intensely into each man’s eyes and she saw that only Gwynfor looked down. It was then that she knew and then that she made her decision. “Gwynfor, begin and answer me simply. Were you successful?”
Breathing a sigh of relief he answered in a torrent of words, “Yes your majesty. We met with the officer and he agreed to aid us. He gave us the information we requested.”
Morwenna gave an imperceptible nod to Radha who continued, “And Angus, were there any problems or did you find the decurion easily.”
Angus glanced contemptuously at Gwynfor. “We would have been sat scratching our arses still if he had had his way. The Wolf and I hid near the fort and made contact.”
“Wolf?”
“Yes majesty. We contacted one of my old comrades who arranged for the Decurion to meet us the next day. All went well.”