by Griff Hosker
The whole line was moving swiftly and quietly. Drugi held up his hand and then gestured for them to spread out in a semi circle. Trygg pointed to Marcus to stand behind the line and for Marcus’ guard to stand behind him. Marcus knew that he was most definitely being watched and that told him that he was not trusted. He smiled to himself; they were right not to trust him because the moment the opportunity came he would fly and, having been captured once, he would make sure that they would not succeed a second time. Marcus watched in amazement as Drugi climbed with fluent grace up the tree and he sat astride a large branch with his legs dangling. For a large framed man he was remarkably agile, quick and, most important whilst hunting, silent. Marcus had a professional interest as Drugi notched an arrow to his bow; the bow was a short hunting bow and Marcus’ own, back at Rocky Point, could easily outdistance the short range weapon. The decurion was desperate for a closer look but he had top try to peer through the line of warriors; it was not easy. His hunter’s eye caught a movement that the warriors did not see nor notice and the flash of russet brown told him that Drugi had spotted a deer. The scent of the hunters was being blown away from the prey so that it grazed contentedly on the piece of grass it had uncovered. Drugi and the hunters would have all the time they needed to make a successful kill.
The wild boar was an old tusker. He liked to sleep more than he had when he was younger which was how the line of hunters had missed him. Drugi had been concentrating totally on the trail of the deer herd he was following otherwise he would have picked up the smell himself. When they had spread out into a semi circle the warrior on the right had disturbed the sleeping monster. Waking unnaturally from its sleep the boar smelled man. Man meant only one thing, he was being hunted and the old tusker had become old by not waiting to be attacked but attack himself. Marcus saw a shadow on the ground and looked up to see the hawk flying above- Macro! He looked around, the presence of his brother’s spirit meant danger. Just as Drugi released his arrow the boar leapt from its lair. The warrior closest to the animal stood no chance and its long tusks ripped into his unprotected groin. The next warrior in line watched in horror as his companion’s entrails cascaded down to the frost floor like a multi-coloured waterfall. He tried to turn and run but fell, his spear tumbling from his hand. The old boar saw the recumbent warrior and raced towards his body. Marcus knew exactly what to do. The spear was not a boar spear nor could he throw it for the boar would be able to rip the man apart even with a spear sticking in it. His only chance was to attract its attention. Picking up the spear he leapt at the boar roaring out a wild primeval scream. The beast heard him and turned remarkably quickly to face this new threat. It spun around and pounced ferociously at the figure it could see coming towards it.
Marcus was aware of time almost slowing. He could hear the dying man’s death groan and the screams of fear from the fallen warrior. He could also detect Drugi trying to turn for a shot with his bow and Trygg trying to pull the sword from his scabbard. Most of all he could see the huge wild pig leaping at him. He dropped the end of the spear to the ground and fell to one knee. As he expected the boar took off to try to rip off his face. Marcus followed the beast’s snout with the end of the spear and, moving his head to one side thrust forwards with a stabbing motion and he felt the spear head sink into the beast’s throat; as it did so he threw himself backwards and the surprised animal found itself flying upside down through the air. The spear was torn from Marcus’ grasp and the animal crashed to the ground behind him. Before it could rise to its feet Drugi hit it with an arrow and Trygg hacked at its head with the razor sharp sword of Cartimandua.
Marcus sprang to his feet and raced to the dying animal; as he took the spear from its throat he twisted it and the animal lay still. Looking skywards he spied the hawk and he raised it in salute. Only Drugi saw the action and he stored the information for a later date. The warriors all went to the dying warrior who was attacked first and as they reached him his body gave a dying spasm and he lay still. They stood in a circle around Marcus, the admiration clearly visible in their faces. Even though he was a slavew he had behaved with more skill and honour than any of them. The man, who had fallen, whose life Marcus had saved, clasped him by the arm. “I owe you a life.”
Marcus understood the debt and nodded. He was too shaken to speak. He knew that Gaelwyn would have been both proud and disgusted that Marcus had risked his life for someone who had been so afraid. He had drilled into Marcus the need for caution around wild pigs and bravery when they attacked. Drugi reached the pig and, with a sharp knife cut into its belly. He put his hand in and ripped out the heart. He walked over to Marcus and proffered the still warm organ, still oozing blood. Marcus took it and bit out a chunk from it. It was then offered to Trygg who did the same, Drugi, and finally the other hunters all followed suit to take the animal’s bravery into their own bodies and become more powerful themselves.
There was an unbearable silence as no-one knew quite what to say. Finally Drugi shook his head. “I can see that I will have to improve my skills. I kill a fawn with an arrow and feel proud of myself and this young Roman takes on the king of the forest with but a spear.” He slapped Marcus on the shoulders, almost knocking him over. “At least we eat well tonight thanks to you.” He examined Marcus and his eye flicked to the sky where the hawk still circled in the thermals, “There is more to you than meets the eye, Roman.”
Trygg nodded, slapping Marcus on the back. “I am sure there must be some Tencteri blood in you! Come let us take these glorious kills back to the boat.”
When they reached the boat Marcus went to board but Trygg stopped him. “You have a task to perform Roman. You have horses to train.”
Marcus squared up to Trygg, “And Frann?”
Again Trygg’s face darkened. “Are you threatening again?”
Drugi interrupted. “Without wishing to interfere Chief Trygg, it would be easier for the two of us if we had a slave to clean and feed us and I am sure that the Roman will work harder if he has such an incentive.”
Trygg could see that this was a way out without any loss of face. “You would make a good counsellor Drugi. And Roman, we all owe you a debt for the bravery you showed today and therefore I will accede to this reasonable request from Drugi. Your woman will come back with the boat but do not make a habit of challenging me for I have seen you fight. I would not fight you, I would have you executed!” The threat was serious and Marcus knew it.
“Just one more thing Chief Trygg.” Drugi groaned and rolled his eyes to the heavens. Trygg’s hand went to the pommel of his sword. Marcus smiled, disarmingly, “The saddles, the bridles and the reins for the horses. I do not need them to ride but you and your riders will.”
There was a collective sigh of relief. “Tomorrow I will bring the smith, the carpenter and the tanner over. Try to have something to show them.” Trygg wagged his finger in Marcus’ face. “Some spirit watches over you Roman for others who have done as you have and spoken as you did are now dead.”
The two slaves trudged back up the hill to Drugi’s hut. Marcus looked up at the sky; it was two hours until night time. “Have you an axe?”
Drugi looked at him in alarm. “Why would you need an axe?”
“To build a shelter for the horses. It will be a cold night tonight and may snow. I would like a blanket for them if we have any.”
“We have them for us but not for the beasts.”
Marcus nodded. “Then when Frann arrives she can make them.” He paused and looked sincerely into Drugi’s face. “Thank you for what you said Drugi, it has saved three lives.”
“Three?”
“Frann’s, mine and of course Chief Trygg for he would have died first.”
As Marcus strode off to collect his wood Drugi shook his head. He had no doubt that Marcus had truly meant what he had said. He would enjoy talking to this Roman slave. He had lived alone for too long and it looked like his life was going to become more interesting.
Drugi had just f
inished preparing the squirrel stew when Marcus returned. It was well past dark and Drugi had wondered if the slave had run. He would have been surprised if he had run for he seemed to care for the slave, Frann. Drugi could not understand ownership. He owned nothing. The bow he used was just a tool and he owed nothing to it. The most valuable object which the slave possessed was his skill as a hunter. When the Roman shivered his way into the cosy hut Drugi could see that he looked exhausted, and a little blue. “Finished?”
“Aye. They have a shelter and it is protected from the north wind. They are watered and I found some grass. We must find them better food. Were we back in Britannia I would have given them some of my ration of oats as a treat but I have not seen any here.”
“Oh we have it but we reserve that for the tribe, not wild animals.”
As he took the proffered bowl of steaming and delicious smelling stew Marcus shook his head. “Then that is where you are wrong. The moment we put a fence around them they are no longer wild and they are our responsibility.” He shrugged. “As a horseman I feed my horse before I feed myself for my mount can get me out of trouble quicker that I get us into it.”
Drugi could see that Marcus, tired though he was, was nervous and he kept glancing at the rough door. “Do not worry Roman, if Chief Trygg says he will send the woman he will send her.”
“But it is dark now, why is she not here?”
Almost in answer they heard the crunch of feet on crisp, freshly frozen snow and Marcus leapt to his feet. The door opened and a relieved looking Frann stood there, a tiny pink face framed by a huge wolf skin. As they embraced Drugi said, diplomatically, “I will just check on the animals.”
Marcus did not contradict him even though he had just returned from that duty. “Were you safe today?”
“I was but the whole village is filled with news of your bravery, how you saved Gurt and the chief.”
Marcus shrugged modestly, “I saved myself.” He waved his arm around the hut. “Will you be comfortable with this?”
Frann smiled and giggled. “We have had bigger audiences before than the hunter and besides Drugi is the kindest man I have ever known. Or he was until I met you.” Drugi came in and she disengaged herself. “I will make our bed over there if that is all right with you hunter?”
“Wherever you wish. I am honoured that the two of you share my home.”
While Frann organised the sleeping arrangements Drugi prepared the food for her. They all ate for a while in companionable silence. After they had eaten Frann went to the bearskin and covered herself. Although he was tempted to join her and enjoy the warmth and comfort of her body, Marcus wanted to know more about this man with whom he would be living for the foreseeable future and he needed to know the measure of the man. Leaning back against the wooden box which housed Drugi’s hunting weapons Marcus looked at the huge hunter. “Why have you never escaped?” He waved a hand vaguely towards the west. “There are neither chains nor bars to hold you here.”
“I quite like it here. This is my home; the only home I have ever really known. I was taken when I was a child and my first masters were cruel. My people were the Rugii clan of the Wends and we lived by the sea. It was a band of Cherusci who captured me and they were not good masters. When I was sold to the Frisii I was almost dead and the Frisii, although not cruel had little use for me. It was Trygg’s father who bought me eventually and found a use for me. I hunt and I live by myself. I am content.”
“Do you not miss your family?”
He looked sad and stared into the fire. “They were all killed, either in the raid or later on the journey west. I was so young I can barely remember them.” Marcus could not imagine a life where you did not remember your parents and then he thought of Marco whose father was killed when the boy was barely weaned and whose mother had tried to kill him, twice. Drugi shook himself. “What I do miss is the taste of the wondrous Kielbasa; the food of my childhood.”
“What is Kielbasa?”
“A wonderful sausage made with pork and other ingredients. As big as a man’s dick.”
Marcus laughed. “Some men had longer dicks than others Drugi.”
Drugi looked seriously at Marcus and then glanced between his legs. “The Rugii are all big men. As big as my dick then Roman!”
“A hearty meal indeed.”
The irony was wasted on Drugi. “What I wouldn’t give for one of those. It is food fit for Kings, no , food fit for gods!”
“Do you know what goes into them?”
“Pork, bread, the lights of a pig and spices.”
“Well why not make one yourself?”
“We cannot get the spices.”
“Then you must ask Trygg to ask at the ports for Roman ships and Phoenician ships trade them all the time.” Drugi looked confused. “They are light to carry but valuable and Rome has the trade routes to the east. We can get hold of them from Eboracum. They are expensive but you do not need much to make the taste of the meat change.”
Drugi’s face lit up. “You have brought light into my life Roman. I will indeed ask for such a boon. I am glad that you were captured.”
“You will understand if I do not share your sentiments.”
“You want to escape?”
“Of course.”
“Then why have you not left now on the horse. I would not stop you.”
“You wouldn’t?” Drugi shook his head.”Well I will but for the moment I cannot.”
“The girl?”
Marcus glanced over and saw, from the regular breathing beneath the skin, that Frann was asleep. “The girl. But I also need a plan. I could go through the Suebi lines and fight my way to the Roman lines but she would need a ship.”
“Then you have a problem for the Suebi control the all of the ports in the west and the only other port I know of, in the east, is here.”
“I will find a way. I have to return to Britannia.”
They both lay down and covered themselves with their bearskins; Drugi also had a fine wolf pelt to ensure his whole body was warm. Marcus felt warmer as he cuddled closer to the sleeping Frann. Unconsciously, in her sleep she moved even closer to him. There was a silence only punctuated by the spitting of the resin from the logs on the fire. “The hawk. Do you control it?”
Marcus felt a sudden shiver run down his spine as though a chill had just entered the hut. “What do you know of the hawk?”
“I know that it is close to you for it showed me where to find the black stallion. I had not seen it before and I had thought to capture it and train it for it is a fine hawk and a good hunter. I watched each day as it killed. It is the best hunter in the forest, apart from me, of course.” Marcus remained silent. “When it warned you of the boar and you saluted it then I knew there was a bond. What is the bond Roman? Tell me hunter to hunter, for as well as a being a warrior and a horseman I know that you are a fine hunter.”
Marcus spoke quietly and told the story of Macro from his birth to his death and of his death oath.”So Roman you have a weregeld with your brother.” He nodded in the dark. “It is good to have a protector and I am glad that I did not try to capture the hawk.”
Marcus laughed. “In that you would have failed for even when he was mortally wounded my brother found the strength to return to me and swear an oath.”
“An oath on the sword which now hangs from Trygg’s baldric.”
“Just so.”
The fire crackled and outside a hunting owl hooted. “Then I too will make an oath for, while I will never leave this place, you should return home, with your woman and with your sword. When you are ready to return to your own land then Drugi will help you.”
“But why would you do that? You barely know me.”
“I know that you are the only other man I have ever met who cares and understands animals as I do and that makes us brothers and today I saw you risk your life for someone who cared not for you. That makes you worthy of life and more than that a life which you choose.” Marcus did not kno
w what to say and lay in the silence wondering about Macro, the Allfather and the Parcae who were making the whole world, it seemed, work for him. “Of course I have no idea how you will achieve your escape but it will be interesting to watch. Life is not dull around you, Marcus, Horseman of Rome.”
Chapter 7
Livius stood with Rufius and Gnaeus as they watched The Swan tack into the newly port at the mouth of the Tinea. The bastion anchoring the wall at its eastern end was precariously perched atop a low cliff and looked as though a high tide could wash it away. It was, however, a statement that Rome was clearly marking its northern border with a substantial stone built fort and port. Neither Rufius nor Gnaeus had needed any persuasion to join the quest and were both eager. Livius looked at them both seriously. “This is more than dangerous, it may even be suicidal. You do not have to go. If you go you are volunteers and we cannot come to your aid should you find trouble over there.” He looked intently at the two young men; one of them was a close friend and the other one of the brightest prospects amongst the troopers. They were both valuable members of the ala. “I want you both to return safely. If it is without Marcus then so be it. It is the Allfather’s will but be careful.”
Rufius laughed, “Yes mother.”
“The Legate does not want to lose either Hercules or Furax in this rescue. Do not jeopardise those civilians jut to get Marcus. Do not take any unnecessary risks.” He glanced from one to the other. Rufius looked much older than Gnaeus who seemed to the Prefect to be little more than a boy. “Rufius you still have the letters from the Emperor Trajan?” Rufius nodded and patted his satchel. “You will be outside Roman territory but use them when you are in Imperial land.”
“Letters, from the Emperor?” Gnaeus spoke quietly to Rufius as Livius went to the jetty to greet the Legate who was giving his final instructions to Hercules.