by Griff Hosker
The object of his desire was fully aware of Appius’ feelings for her. She had been taught well and knew how to captivate and entice a man. One of her servants had been an adherent of the Mother cult and Vibia had been a devoted learner. She understood about the use of herbs and potions to enhance one’s beauty. She had enjoyed the knowledge that she could concoct a potion to make a man become infatuated with her. So far she had not needed it but she knew it was there when she wanted it. Even more than the knowledge of potions she had voraciously absorbed every fact she could about poisons. As with the love potions she had not needed them yet but should anyone cross her then they would see the other side to Vibia. Appius suited her plans; she intended to be rich and she had seen in Appius Serjanus a like minded soul.
Randal and the Selgovae warriors he led had watched the wall with increasing interest for the past week. Gone were the cavalry patrols which kept them penned and pinned inside their settlements. The narrower the gap became between the forts the more confident they became and there were now eight warbands of Selgovae and Votadini within a thousand paces of the wall. They had watched the infrequent cavalry patrols and counted the troopers. No more than thirty ever patrolled at one time and Randal had learned the value of caltrops. They had begun to manufacture crude ones; not of the same standard as those of the Romans but effective nonetheless. They were not afraid of thirty horsemen. They had also noted that it was not the legionaries who patrolled the length of the new wall for they continued to build, it was the warriors with mail, the warriors with the oval shields and the warriors Briac had told them they could defeat. Their scouts who had crept close to the wall told them of the grumblings from the auxiliaries. Briac’s plan had begun to work and the supplies had been interrupted. They were hungry and unhappy. He knew that they had planned to wait until the wall was finished and the legionaries left but Randal saw an opportunity and he would take it.
The ditch on the frontier side of the wall had been deeply dug but, so far, it was free from either traps or lillia. The wall had yet to be faced and the stones afforded some grip to men determined to climb. Not all the mile castles had been built and Randal chose places with a large gap between them. He had his largest warband, two hundred warriors strong, waited for the moon to dip behind the clouds. The previous two nights had been bright but the rain during the day had left clouds in the sky and it was a perfect opportunity for the Selgovae to inflict damage upon the wall and the men who manned it. The ten agile warriors, with ropes wrapped around their half naked bodies, slipped across the ditch and began to climb the stones. Although they were well finished there were holds between them which gave these warriors purchase. Once they reached the ramparts the warrior at each end of the line slipped away to deal with the sentry who watcher there while the other eight threw their ropes over the side of the wall, tying them around the ramparts themselves. The two sentries died noiselessly as their throats were cut.
Once they were all safely inside the defences Randal led them towards the gate. Here he knew would be a half century of auxiliaries. They had counted the eight who would be upon the walls and spotted the stairs leading to the barracks housing the others. The optio on duty stared northwards across the rolling hills of the frontier. This was the real frontier. It seemed a lifetime away from his home by the sea in Northern Gaul. He had yet to see a Selgovae or Votadini but he had heard of them and their blue painted bodies. Someone had told him that it was not paint but they scarred their own bodies. He shuddered at the thought. The slight movement from his left was his only warning of something untoward. Randal’s war hammer smashed through his helmet and split his skull in a single blow. The sound of his body crashing to the floor alerted the others but only one brave Gaul managed to shout a half warning before he too was despatched with the others. The centurion was an old frontier hand and the sound awoke him. “To arms! We are under attack!” One of the auxiliaries began to turn over. “Get up you dozy bastard. Those are barbarians!”
The centurion just grabbed his gladius and a spare scutum. Barefooted he ran up the stairs. Behind him he heard the sound of the door to the barracks being wrenched open as his gladius slipped up into the belly of the Selgovae racing down to kill even more of the Romans. Stepping over the body he punched his shield into the face of the next warrior and the Selgovae fell screaming to the barrack’s floor. Once he emerged at the top of the tower the centurion could see that it was hopeless but he would not die without a fight. “On me!”
Four auxiliaries ran up the stairs to join him. “Sir, the men are being slaughtered!”
“You three form a shield wall, Titus, light the signal.” Every tower had a signal which was there to warn of an attack. As Titus began to chip sparks off the flint the centurion and the other three began to hack their way through the Selgovae. There were only four of them and they had no armour but with swords and shields, added to their experience they began to force the Selgovae back. Suddenly the sky was illuminated as the flames took hold and the beacon flamed. “Titus, get your arse here!”
The five of them turned to face the barbarians who streamed up the stairs to get at them. The five Gauls fought well but once the Selgovae found the javelins it was all over as they stabbed under the shields into the unprotected bodies of the auxiliaries. Even though he was bleeding heavily from spear thrusts to his thighs the grizzled centurion continued to fight. As the life blood seeped from him his defence became weaker until Randal ended it by smashing his war hammer into his skull and the last defender died.
Randal was disappointed to have lost so many men. “Put their heads on spears. Burn it! Burn it to the ground!”
Briac waited in the shadows in the tavern at the vicus. He was not in a good humour. This was the third day he had waited for his spy and so far he had not shown. The two disasters caused by the ala had meant that they needed another plan. The patrols along the road had made the area much more secure for the Romans and more hazardous for the Brigante. When his spy entered he ignored him while they both checked the room for any sign of someone showing undue interest. Briac had three of his men outside and they were ready to intervene should it become necessary.
“What went wrong?” Briac was blunt.
“The prefect went wrong. He makes sudden decisions and doesn’t tell, even his officers, what he intends.”
“We lost men and we lost the wagons. I begin to wonder what is the point of having a dagger in the heart of the Roman cavalry if we cannot use it!”
The spy threw an angry glance in Briac’s direction, but he knew that his leader was correct. “I can tell you now that the ala will be patrolling the northern road and the southern road and three turmae will be hunting you. And, “he added ominously, “they have a new tracker; a Brigante who is half man and half dog.”
Briac waved away the last comment. “The tracker is nothing. It is the prefect who is the problem. He must die.”
“That is easier said than done. What would you suggest? A knife in the night?”
Briac had not got as far as the details but the spy’s idea seemed reasonable. “How close are you to the prefect?”
As close as any in the turma but not close enough to be able to stick him like a pig.”
“Who stands in your way?”
“Gaius, the chosen man. The signifier is another.” The spy thought he knew what Briac intended. “It would be difficult for me to eliminate those two and not arouse suspicion.”
Briac’s clever mind was already ahead of his spy. “I know that. Leave it to me to get rid of those two. You must be ready to step into the breach and gain his confidence so that when you are the one closest to him then you can strike. This may not be as swift as we would like but if he is eliminated then Marcus’ Horse will lose its power.”
Aula’s children were also meeting this time at the Temple of Augustus. Towards evening it was not as busy as during the day and they looked like two penitents, cloaked and hooded against the night chill. “Have you had the chance
to find the gold yet?”
“No but I know the place for it is close to the road. And you? How close are you to the prefect?”
“Not close yet but I have a plan to make him come closer to me. Remember that mother said that we should be patient. We are young and the important thing is to succeed. It matters not when.”A smile played upon the lips. “Besides I am enjoying this life and this deception, are you not?”
The smile which came back was identical. “Of course I am. They are fools and we are leading them by the nose!”
Chapter 7
The legate, Julius Demetrius, came himself with the news of the raid and the destruction of the gate to the Praetorium at Eboracum. When Livius received his summons he left immediately and found the Governor, Julius and Appius studying the map of the Stanegate and the wall. “Ah good, Livius, you know the area as well as any. Julius had brought grave news. The Selgovae scaled the walls and slaughtered a half century of men, destroying a gatehouse in the process. It has not only set our building programme back but caused a dip in morale. Following on from the shorter rations the auxiliaries are not happy about their losses and we do no want a repetition of the Batavian revolt of a few years ago do we?”
“They chose their target well. The section they attacked had not had the mile castles added and the sentries were isolated.”
“How did they scale the walls?”
“They just climbed as a spider does. Appius here has a solution to that however. Tell them Appius.”
The preening aide puffed himself up so much that Livius though he might explode.”If we were to make the faces smooth with concrete then they could not climb.”
“If the ditch had been finished and lined with traps and lillia then we might have had warning.” Julius Demetrius was beginning to become a little annoyed with the aide and his ideas.
“Yes Julius but there is little point in going over what we did not do. What do you think of Appius’ suggestion?”
“It will work but it is expensive and it means sending for more wagons with the materials to make the cement. This will also tie up the ala. I am sure that, had we had the ala on patrol then this would have been less likely to happen.”
“There you go again Julius. Stop worrying about what we didn’t do and concentrate on what we can do. I do not care about the expense. The wall must be built to give us security. As we both know the Emperor needs the wall to hold back the barbarians and also to provide a base when we invade again.”
Livius could see that Julius and the Governor were on a collision course. “Perhaps we could send another four turmae north to boost Rufius. I am sure that the other twelve turmae can patrol the road.”
Appius looked at the Governor who nodded. “Eleven turma for I need one turma to travel to the land of the lakes and escort Appius while he sets up a mining operation.”
Julius looked to the heavens in exasperation. “The frontier threatens to boil over and you want to waste a valuable resource escorting one man! Where are the priorities?”
“You forget yourself Legate. It is my decision and besides which it will pay for the new materials we need to face the wall and to build new forts.”
“New forts?” Julius and the Emperor had spent long hours meticulously planning the wall and the forts were already there to the south of the wall.
“Yes. I plan to build forts here and here on the wall and then some north of the wall, here and here.”
“Think of the manpower you would need, not only to build them but to protect them!”
“It will make the frontier secure. I have made my decision. Now prefect who will be escorting Appius to the west?”
Livius hated to detach one turma and he was loath to use Marcus or Metellus. “Titus, for he came from the region and he knows the area as well as any. He will make the expedition as short as it needs to be and return to the real work of the turma.” Appius shot a look of pure hate at the prefect who assiduously ignored him. “I will send Marcus north with Gnaeus, Lucius, and Septimus. Metellus can be based at Morbium and patrol the road to Eboracum and I will remain here in Eboracum to try to catch the rebels.”
Nepos looked up in surprise. “Rebels? I thought they were bandits?”
“From their weapons and their tactics they are rebels. Bandits would not have wasted time taking the concrete. No, they want to disrupt the wall building and the intelligence we had from the prisoners is bearing fruit. There is a conspiracy amongst the tribes, Governor and that bodes ill for us all.”
Far to the north along the wall, Rufius was acutely aware of the threat and the anger from the tribes. He had long grown from the keen young Explorate into a sound leader of men. He took pride in the fact that Livius had left him with just two turmae to patrol a frontier riddled with enemies. It did not maker the task any easier, however for every time he sent Decius off with his turma he worried about the young decurion. He knew that Decius was a good officer but he had learned much from watching men like Cassius and Livius. The frontier was an unforgiving classroom.
The Gallic prefect had been angry about the loss of his half century. There was no blame attached to Rufius but Prefect Ambrinus knew that his men were spread out too thinly. “Rufius what can your men do?”
“I think that the fort is too far to the east to be much good; especially as the building work is so far to the west now. I will leave the fort to the Sixth. They can continue to improve the wall here and I will build a camp between the Stanegate and the wall. How is that? We can then patrol directly north of the wall and give some protection to the vulnerable parts.”
“I appreciate it. We didn’t realise what a good job you lads did until the Governor sent them south.”
“We will leave today and I will take my men up the old road and head for the gap on their side of the frontier. It may help us to surprise them.”
Julius Longinus sniffed disapprovingly when Rufius told him of his decision. “Leaving me here with a bunch of legionaries! The sooner the prefect returns the better.” He pulled out a piece of parchment. “Here this may help. It is a map with distances on showing the forts and the walls. It may be of some service. Make sure you bring it back!”
For all his bluster the old man was very fond of the men in the ala. He had been with them so long that they were like family to him. “Don’t worry. We will be back.”
The gate to the northern road was at the far end of the bridge. Rufius remembered the fierce fighting which had taken place when they first erected the fort. Now it was peaceful but he knew that it was an illusion. They were being watched. As they waved to the sentries at the far side of the bridge Rufius turned to Decimus, his chosen man. “Take young Julius and ride west. There is a trail which cuts through the forest. Let us see if we can flush any of the Votadini scouts out.”
Grinning Decimus snapped a, “Be delighted to sir!” and galloped off with Julius in tow.
The old road north had been built by the Ninth during the heady days of Agricola and his successful drive north. To the ala it was a valuable lifeline for it enabled them to travel north rapidly and with little chance of ambush. “Decius you bring up the rear and watch for any sign of our barbaric friends. They are up to no good and it is time we taught them a lesson.” The down side of travelling along the road was that there was neither sign nor tracks to follow but Rufius only intended to travel far enough north to spook the scouts he knew would be watching them. As soon as he felt they had travelled far enough he shouted, “Turmae, left wheel.” The whole column turned into a sixty man, two deep line, and thirty men wide. Keeping a good distance between the troopers meant that they could cover a large area. Their tactic soon reaped results as Rufius saw the warriors trying to out run the horses. The younger troopers became excited and he could see them kicking their horses on. “On me! Keep the same pace.” Rufius wanted the fleeing warriors exhausted and he knew that he had two men just waiting to head them off. There was no hurry; the cavalry mounts could keep this pace up all day. He
had time to count them. There were twelve of them and most looked to be the younger warriors; they would have stamina and would run further and longer than older warriors. Equally they would be easier to break when it came to questioning. “Drive them to the middle!”Just like hunters driving game their quarry began to draw together. The frantic looks over their shoulders told Rufius that they were becoming increasingly concerned with the proximity of the horses. The Votadini were not men of the horse, they were the foot warriors and horses frightened them. Rufius tried to imagine what they would be seeing as the sixty horses thundered after them.
When the first one stumbled Rufius yelled, “Secure him!” He heard, rather than saw the two troopers stop and wrestle the scout into submission. Two more fell this way until Decius and Julius loomed ahead of the fleeing men; they saw not two warriors but more of the hated horse warriors who would kill them. Four of them tried to attack the two troopers but Decius casually slew them with his long spatha and Julius made his first kill. The others were too exhausted to fight and they prostrated themselves on the ground. “Bind them!”
As his men secured the prisoners Rufius signalled Decimus and Decius to join him. “Did you see any others Decimus?”
“No sir, these wee the only ones. When we heard your hooves we knew they were heading our way.”
“Good. We will continue east and scout the wall gap. These prisoners can be interrogated later.”
The eight prisoners were tethered to a trooper each and led through the woods. They were in no condition to struggle and Rufius kept up a steady pace to discourage any attempt at escape.
At the gap in the wall the third century of the Sixth Legion was toiling away in armour. The latest attacks had meant that they could not strip off and work as they would have preferred. Their piles of weapons were gathered in tent party groups and the centurion, Gaius Colonus felt the hairs constantly prickling on the back of his neck. The brazen attack on the Gauls had shaken even the most experienced veteran and they worked with one eye on the forest. The ditch they were digging would, eventually, form the northern boundary of the Roman Empire but at the moment it seemed a little isolated to the centurion. The sooner they had finished the building and could get back to real soldiering, the better. He rubbed his neck. It was becoming uncomfortable to have to keep looking over one’s shoulder to watch the forest. He turned to look again and this time saw a flash of white flesh which should not have been there. “Stand to! On me!” Grabbing his helmet he looked for the signifier as the legionaries quickly donned their weapons. They had not seen the danger but the fact that Gaius Colonus had warned them was enough for them.