Hosker, G [Sword of Cartimandua 11] Roman Treachery

by Griff Hosker

  “Come on then, I will ride with you to Rocky Point. I am supposed to be inspecting the defences after all.” First Spear Broccus had gone back to work. “I’ll be back along this way in a couple of days Quintus.”

  He pointed towards the east. “Then we will be about fifty paces that way sir!” He absentmindedly clipped one of the legionaries who had turned at the words. “He was talking to me you horrible little man! Get on with it!”

  Rocky Point was nearing the end of its life. Built before the wall as a camp for the ala which protected the workers, it would soon be redundant. The fort of Cilurnum was nearing completion and, already, the clerks and farriers had moved from Corio to Rocky Point ready for the grand move. The auxiliary ala would have its first permanent base.

  “I shall miss Rocky Point sir.” The isolated wooden structure rose defiantly in the land which was still Selgovae and Marcus remembered the early days when the ala had been the only force keeping the barbarians away from the construction site of the wall. Many men had fallen defending its wooden walls and ditches.

  “The new fort will have stone walls and a bath house Marcus. It will be more comfortable.”

  “True but I still think of this as a refuge. Remember the time we barely made it escorting those refugees the barbarians had captured?”

  “Don’t remind me. That was as close as I want to come to a Selgovae spear.”

  As they descended the primitive track which led to the fort Julius could not help notice the keen eyed sentries. This was not a safe posting; this was the edge of hell. Here the garrison was almost completely surrounded by the enemy. It was another reason for the move. When the wall finally reached this exposed northern ridge the fort that had been the cavalry’s home would be beyond the frontier. The grim troopers faced death every day.

  The first thing Julius noticed was that Livius now looked greyer and older. The frontier took its toll on its defenders and Livius had performed that duty longer than most. When he greeted them and smiled at two old friends, his face looked far younger. Marcus was so close to him, as had been his father and his namesake that Livius felt this was the son he would never have. His darkest times had been when he had been captured by Trygg, the Uite. Like Marcus he would be sorry to leave Rocky Point; it had been a bastion against the barbaric forces from the north. They suffered attacks on a weekly basis but not one enemy had managed to breach the walls. It was a record of which the prefect was proud.

  After greeting the Legate he asked Marcus. “Good patrol?”

  “We lost no-one; it was a good patrol but we did not find any enemies. The Legate here wishes me to capture prisoners next time.”

  Livius frowned. It was his task to detail the missions but he accepted that he was outranked. “Rufius is out at the moment with his turmae; he may have more success.”

  Marcus shook his head, “Sir, with respect, we defend first and think of prisoners second. When I try to get one it will not be through war but stealth.”

  “Stealth young Marcus? When were you ever stealthy?” The voice boomed from behind him.

  Marcus turned to see the Decurion Princeps approaching. He had served under Metellus as an Explorate and had learned much from that most intelligent and thoughtful of officers. “Metellus! Good to hear you are still alive and your wife has not kept you south of the Dunum.” Metellus and his wife, Nanna, ran a horse stud close to the farm where Marcus’ mother still lived.

  “Every time I am down there she nags me to stay home and it is tempting but, there is still so much to do and now that I am Decurion Princeps of the ala, I feel I have more responsibility. And how is you wife and your son?”

  Marcus’ face lit up. He would happily talk for hours about every slight change in his young son. Livius watched the two married men and felt pangs of jealousy. He would never enjoy a family life and he wondered if that was the curse of a prefect in the auxiliaries. Marcus Maximunius, after whom the ala had been named had also never married; like Livius the ala was his family and the officers and troopers his children. “So Legate we need prisoners…”

  Far to the north of the wall, in the safety of the Selgovae stronghold, Briac the Brigante, Randal the Votadini and Iucher the Selgovae were in deep discussion. Since their first meeting the representatives of the three main tribes in the region had hammered out their plan to rid the region of the Romans.

  “The gap between the two walls becomes narrower each day and soon it will be closed.” Iucher was becoming increasingly agitated. He had not believed how swiftly the Romans could build from stone. It was as though they defecated brick!

  Briac smiled. “It matters not, for, when it is closed, I will be south of the wall and our plans will be in place. With our spy in the enemy ranks we will be able to communicate easily with you. You will know exactly what the Romans intend as soon as they do.”

  “Why have you not used this traitor before?” Randal was suspicious of the Brigante; old tribal differences were always just below the surface.

  “He has only recently joined and it has taken time for him to become accepted. Another problem is that, at the moment, he is not yet at the frontier but he will be. The Romans have a great need for warriors and they replace them frequently. By the time I reach my home I will have made contact with him and arranged the signals we will use. Once I am home then we can begin to disrupt the Roman road. That is their weakness; they rely on the carts and the wagons which trundle up and down their stone ways. They cannot defend them all. We will slow down their supplies and then your tribes can destroy them on the wall. When they are weak then we will rise in the south and fall upon the garrisons. It may not be soon for we need to build up our army but we will rise and they will be destroyed.”

  Randal’s interest was piqued. “What will you do then?”

  “We will capture their wagons and kill their drivers. We will go into their forts and kill them while they sleep. We will poison their food and all the time we will smile, as though we are the grateful dog who feeds from their scraps. When we rebelled before we were open and hostile and they knew who we were. We live with those who love the Romans and we pretend that we love them too. How can they fight an enemy if they know not who the enemy is?”

  Iucher nodded his approval. “And now that we are at peace with our Votadini brothers we can strike at many places along the wall.” The two tribes had been mortal enemies until the Romans had come and now they had shelved their differences. Together they would be a formidable foe

  “We have learned that the ones who build the wall, the legions will not be based upon the wall but further away. When the gap is closed it will not be the mighty legion you face but men from Gaul and other parts of the Empire. Those warriors, brothers, are their weakness. The legionaries stand and fight in lines with mighty weapons throwing stones and huge arrows. The others do not and we can beat them!”

  The new Governor and his entourage finally arrived at Eboracum. His wife, Flavia was less than impressed with the frontier fortress. Thanks to the Emperor’s Trajan and Hadrian it was stronger and had better accommodation than in the early years of its life but the wife of the Governor was used to a more luxurious lifestyle. “And what of the slaves? Where do I acquire decent slaves who can converse with me and understand my needs?”

  Aulus Nepos sighed. His wife always felt that he lived below their station in life. He doubted that the slaves in this part of the province would meet her high standards. “Perhaps, rather than slaves, we should hire well brought up citizens from the area.They could be your companions. There must be some intelligent young ladies who would like to enjoy the life style of the fort.”

  Flavia did not think for one moment that there would be any such citizens but, having seen and smelled the locals as they passed through the vicus, she knew that she did not want slaves. “I shall, of course, interview them and see if they meet my standard.”

  “Without a doubt my dear and now I shall set in motion the plans with the officials and officers of th
e fort. If you would care to inspect the quarters and make a list of any deficiencies then I will have them remedied rapidly.” He knew that there would be many deficiencies but money was not a problem. He was, after all, Governor of the province of Britannia which had more potential riches than any other. The wheat alone, when controlled and managed effectively , would mean that they would not have to totally rely on the Egyptian harvest. “Appius!”

  “Sir?” Appius was never far from the Governor and he tried to anticipate his every wish.

  “We need some servants for my wife. Two should do for the moment. They should be literate and well presented. There should be some families hereabouts who would want their daughters to associate with the Governor of Britannia and his family. See to it. I will be with the senior officers to find out about the state of the construction of the wall and its attendant defences.”

  Appius knew that he had to make himself an invaluable asset if he were to succeed in his plan to gain power. Although finding servants was not the task he had anticipated it would enable him to gain power over someone close to the Governor’s wife and that was not a bad thing. He headed for the forum; it was not as vibrant and bustling as the ones in Rome, or even in the southern half of the province, it did, at least, provide a place for the well to do to gather, talk and impress each other with their latest acquisitions; bath house, tutor, the list was endless. There were already merchants and their families gathered. Their Roman dress marked them out quite clearly as did the fact that the men, especially, looked uncomfortable in the newly acquired garb. He waited in the corner to observe them for a while. He identified at least four young women who looked as though they might be suitable; they certainly met the presentable category. The literate side was one he would have to gauge through conversation. He also noted the men for these would be the ones with money and power in this frontier region; they too would be worthy of his attention.

  He took a deep breath and put on his most engaging smile. He stepped into the main area and was most pleased when the conversation dropped a little as they inspected this well dressed stranger. The purple stripe on his toga told all but the most ignorant that this man had senatorial connections. Appius knew that he was good looking and was not surprised when both the matrons and the young ladies appraised him approvingly. He approached the family with the two most likely looking young ladies. “My apologies domina, for interrupting your conversation, but I am new in Eboracum having travelled from Rome with the new Governor. I am Appius Serjanus.”

  The portly gentleman who was the head of the family puffed himself up. He looked to Appius like a farmer who has made a little money and calls himself a merchant. He could almost see the dirt beneath his finger nails. “Delighted to meet you. I am Publius Bibula and this is my wife, Aula Bibula.” Appius nodded to the wife who looked as fond of her food as her husband. She simpered and Appius assumed that she thought she was being coquettish.

  “And who are these lovely young ladies domina? Your sisters?”

  Aula Bibula giggled and her layers of fat shook in a most alarming manner. “Why no, this is my daughter Tita Bibula and her friend Vibia Dives.”

  “Delighted to meet with you.” He took their hands and kissed the back of them. Tita, was like her mother and giggled although, happily, without the rippling layers of fat. Vibia, in contrast, coolly met his stare with her own chillingly attractive look. “As I am new in the city I wondered if you might help me. The wife of the Governor is seeking two young ladies to help her settle in and to provide intelligent company for her. Do you know of any young ladies who might be willing to provide such service? There would, of course, be remuneration.”

  Aula shook her head. “I am afraid we could not consider letting Tita work as a servant, of any description. But Vibia is I believe seeking a position.”If Vibia took those words as an insult she did not show it but merely carried on smiling like an enigmatic Sphinx.

  Appius noticed that Tita did not agree with her mother but that Vibia did not look displeased. “I would be pleased to aid you Appius Serjanus and I believe that I know of another, Lucia Scaura.” Her voice had a seductive quality to and Appius could tell from her grammar that she was well brought up. She leaned in to speak more confidentially to him, “She has travelled from the southern part of the province and she has fallen on hard times.”

  Appius nodded, as though he cared, “How sad. If you could come to the Governor’s residence later in the day then I will introduce you to Governor Nepos and his wife, the Lady Flavia. Of course the selection of the successful candidates will be up to the Lady Flavia.”

  “Of course.”

  “Could I ask if you can read and write?”

  Vibia gave a smile which could have been contemptuous but quickly became engaging, “Of course and I can speak and read Greek. Not that one has much opportunity here.”

  Appius could see that he had at least one potential servant and companion of a very high standard. Even if this Lucia was not as qualified it would not matter. “I look forward to speaking with you later on. Until this afternoon.”

  As he left he saw the look of hatred Tita gave to her mother. Although she had not provided a servant she might provide a bed companion. Appius resented paying for whores and Tita looked as though she might be willing to satisfy his needs. Eboracum was looking better by the moment.

  Chapter 2

  Marcus stood in Livius’ office. “Now take no chances. I know the Legate asked for prisoners but I do not want to lose either you or Gnaeus. It will be his first patrol as decurion and he may try to impress you.”

  Marcus laughed. “He feels so guilty about almost losing his commander the other year that he will probably ensure that we all come back.” He became more serious for, like his prefect, Marcus cared about all the troopers. They had had few casualties in the last couple of years and they both intended it to stay that way. “The only dangerous part of this, sir, is that we will be further from the wall and have a longer journey home. I intend to leave two turmae half way back as reinforcements should we need them. I promise you I will take no chances.”

  As they headed north through the gates in the wall Marcus hoped that the Selgovae were watching at the gap. It mattered little for this was just one of their regular patrols. He would take his four turmae north, into the huge forests and then swing to the east. The Votadini lived closer to the coast and felt largely safe from Roman incursions. He would have more chance of capturing a prisoner there. The eight spare horses they took with them were a normal precaution against accidents and injuries but this time they would be needed to transport the prisoners. Gnaeus rode next to him as they traversed the forest trails. Two of the better scouts were ranging far ahead to give them early warning of danger and it meant that Marcus could give Gnaeus advice on his new role.

  “I know that you can command Gnaeus, it is why I recommended you for promotion but you will need to be able to take independent command. When I leave you with Titus and the Third Turma you will have to make the decision about the right time to return to Rocky Point.”

  “What do you mean return? You will be back will you not?”

  “Hopefully I will but anything can happen and that is why I leave you in command. Titus has also been recently promoted but you and I have ridden together many years and I know you. That is what I mean when I say you are in command; it is a heavy burden you bear.”

  Gnaeus chewed on his lip; he did not like the thought of abandoning his leader again. “Which settlement will you try?”

  “When we have crossed the old northern road I will try the village of Tad. They are prosperous there and, as I recall, they are close to the Votadini royal family. We need those who have knowledge of those with power at this moment. It is my intention to wait for dusk; we will then have the night to return to you.”

  “Where do you intend to leave us?”

  “The old fort on the road; it is still defensible and yet you can remain hidden. If we are not retuned in two
days then inform the prefect of my failure.” He saw the terrified look on the young decurion’s face. “I will return but my orders have to be quite clear Gnaeus.”

  Gnaeus did not look convinced but Marcus was his senior and he would obey albeit reluctantly. The fort had seen much action both during its lifetime as a northern outpost and since it had been abandoned. Many auxiliaries’ bones lay beneath the sods and shrubs surrounding the burnt out and decaying wooden fort. Their sacrifice had been in vain for they had, inevitably been pushed back, despite all the efforts of the soldiers who fought for Rome. Marcus looked towards the north west remembering when he and his step brother had defended the eagle of the Ninth as the legion was finally eliminated as a fighting force. The survivors and Macro and Marcus had left the field with their heads held high for they took with them their eagle and left the field in good order. It was that memory which put steel into Marcus’ resolve. He had lost many good comrades in that retreat and he owed it to them to help to hold on to the land they still owned.

  After leaving Gnaeus and Titus at the fort, Marcus set off on his patrol with Publius. He was not a new decurion but he still looked up to Marcus who still carried the Sword of Cartimandua. The legendary blade had become an icon and symbol of luck. It was said that the first Roman to carry it, Ulpius Felix had been named Felix because he was lucky. That luck and good fortune still continued and Marcus knew that many men secretly touched the blade for luck before combat. He was not sure if it did them any good but he knew that, like his father before him, the blade gave him an edge in any combat. He realised that Livius would prefer the blade were left at home where men would not try to defend it to the last but Marcus would not dream of taking the field without it.

  As the sun passed its zenith Marcus halted the turmae. They found a wood in the next valley to the settlement. Marcus chose the ten troopers he would take with him. They were from both turmae and they had been chosen for their ability to remain hidden. They took off their helmets and left their shields and javelins with Publius. Their cloaks would help them to escape observation but Marcus longed for the green cloaks and brown clothes he had worn as an Explorate. Those days were long gone. “We will be back by dawn. If we have not returned by noon, then return to Gnaeus. We may have to leave in a hurry be prepared to cover our withdrawal.”