by Griff Hosker
“Having said goodbye to your friend Roman you and your woman should return to the slave hall. Your days of relative freedom, are over. For the next seven days you do not leave the hall.” The friendly tones of the previous week were gone and it was a slave master who ordered Marcus back to the hall.
The handful of guards pushed the two of them towards the road which led to the gates. Half way along, where the track curved Marcus risked a glance to his left. Keeping his face as impassive as possible he saw, to his delight, Hercules, Rufius and Gnaeus sitting in the small boat which was rowing ashore. They had come for him; the problem was that the freedom he had had the previous day had melted like the fog and he was a guarded prisoner once more. As he entered the fort he put his arm around Frann who was despondent at their state. He whispered in her ear. “Fear not my love, for tonight, with the aid of the Parcae, we shall escape.”
Her face turned to him with surprise written all over it, “How?”
“That I do not yet know. We will have to work it out over the next few hours.” As the door slammed behind them it sounded and felt, final. Marcus hoped that his friends were thinking the same as he.
As the skiff pulled towards the jetty Rufius turned to Gnaeus. “Did you see Marcus?”
Gnaeus had seen someone who looked like Marcus but he could not be sure. “It looked like him but…”
“Keep your eye on him and the woman he is with. Let us see where they go.”
Hercules murmured, “Well no-one is asking me but I think it was Marcus as well but did you see? He was hobbled.”
“I know but let us take it one step at a time. Hopefully this deception will be our last one.”
The welcoming party were all armed but the three men all saw, immediately, the Sword of Cartimandua hanging from the belt of the warrior they took to be chief. It was confirmation that they had found the place to which the decurion had been brought. When they stepped off they all gave a small bow. “Thank you for receiving us. I am Gaelwyn of the Brigante and I come here to set up trading links.”
“My friends from further north told us of your coming. Please come to my hall where we can speak in a warmer environment.” As they walked, he pointed to their ship, The Swan. “A tidy looking ship but you have no oars. Why is that?”
Rufius looked at Hercules and nodded, subtly. “We can carry more cargo if we are not encumbered by oars and we have a smaller crew.” He grinned, “More profits for us.”
“But it does make you vulnerable to attack does it not? Especially if you are becalmed.”
Rufius wondered if there was a hidden message in the words. Was he threatening to take their ship? He seemed to be the man they had been told of, a reasonable leader who was no Gurt but perhaps he was a wolf thinking that the sheep had inadvertently come into his lair. “So far we have only met with peace and hospitality. Are there pirates around here?” Rufius acted the innocent in his words and his facial expression.
“Not here but further north there are some dangerous waters. You may find your journey north more dangerous for, as you can see, the seafarers of the dark sea are preparing for their summer work.”
“Ah. Thank you for the advice, we will be careful when we return.”
“You intend to travel back soon then?”
“We heard that there was to be a sale of slaves and we would like to buy as many as possible for there is a great demand for them in Britannia.”
“Really?” Trygg showed that he too was also an actor. He, of course knew all of this and he knew that they could get an even greater price because of that. They sat around a huge table and the chief ordered a slave to bring some honeyed mead. “Now we have slaves but I am interested in the goods that you bring, that you think we might need.”
Gnaeus brought out the sample pot which was passed around the other members of the council who were at the table. Their admiring glances were not an act for the quality was far superior to anything local. Rufius brought out a small amphora which he opened; the smell immediately filled the room. “And we have spices from the east. These are rare and justly expensive.” The appreciative sniffs told Rufius that if he had been a trader he would have made a sale already. “And we have more of this, but this a gift for our hosts.” Rufius took out a beautifully carved jet hawk.
Trygg nodded his admiration. “This is interesting. We have had a hawk which has enjoyed our hospitality for some weeks now.” He smiled ruefully,”Many of the doves we would have eaten in winter have been devoured by our greedy visitor. Perhaps this token will help to ward him off and send him away.”
“Perhaps, and now Chief Trygg having seen our goods do you think that we can trade?”
Hercules smiled in admiration. Rufius had perfected the act of being a trader well and all of his behaviour seemed both natural and appropriate. He did not know that when Rufius had been an Explorate he had had to play a variety of parts and adopt many disguises.
The Chief scanned the faces of his peers and they all nodded. “I think that we can trade. Certainly your goods are ones we cannot buy locally.” He smiled and Rufius shivered, for it was the smile of a wolf. “The only other way would be to take them.”
Rufius laughed, “Then we have come to the right place. Would it be possible to see the quality of the slaves so that we can agree a price?”
“Oh we can go to see them but I am afraid that the auction will be in seven days for there will be others who wish to buy them. We have had a good crop this year.” Gnaeus felt sick at the way that Trygg was speaking about human beings. He had never owned a slave although he understood why they were needed but after this visit he began to question the justification. “The slave hall is next door. We will be making this hall ready today for a feast we hold tonight. We defeated some Suebi raiders and we are holding a feast to celebrate.”
As they stepped from the fuggy warmth of the hall to the chill air of the fresh morning Hercules shivered. The Mare Nostrum, even on its coldest day was much warmer than the air through which they walked. When he returned to the Senator, if he returned to the Senator he would suggest that he return to more familiar seas to make a profit from all that they had traded so far.
Rufius immediately became wary when he saw the two guards at the door of the slave hall. They were both armed and alert. When they were swung open the smell of the unwashed slaves hit the three men like a slap in the face. Gnaeus was worried that he would actually vomit and he had to put his hand to his mouth to hold back some of the stink. This was less well lit than the main hall and the fire barely glowed. Those slaves not working outside were huddled together looking fearfully at the visitors.
The shaman who had shown such keen interest in the pots led them into the hall. Trygg hung back to see the men’s reaction. “As you can see we have a surplus. They are mainly women and children, although we have one man. Some of the women are with child which, of course, proves their fertility and of course would demand a higher price. Some of the boys are approaching manhood but most of them are young enough to be trained to whatever purposes their new owners choose.”
Rufius found something distasteful about the way the old man went on and kept licking his lips as he looked at the boys and young women. He had seen Marcus when the old man had pointed him out but he avoided any eye contact. Instead he led the other two towards a group of women and children who looked to be a family. Their faces showed terror as they were displayed and paraded like animals. Rufius hated the role ha had to play but he knew there was no other way. He had to convince them that he was a slaver. “The buyer does not need to keep family groups together does he?”
“No of course not, split them up anyway you wish; provided, of course, your bid is successful.”
Rufius had seen enough and, looking at the young trooper’s face, he was not sure if Gnaeus would be able to hold on to the contents of his stomach. “Well we have seen enough.” He looked at Chief Trygg. “Seven days you say until the sale?”
“Seven days.”
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“Good. That will give us time to prepare our hold for our new cargo. We will then have to agree an appropriate and suitable price for our goods.” Rufius affected a rapacious look, “Those prices will, of course, not be dependent upon a bid as you will be the only buyers. I assume that tomorrow will be too soon.” He smiled sympathetically. “I assume that you will be recovering from the celebratory feast. So shall we say the day after tomorrow?”
“That will be acceptable.” Trygg looked curiously at Hercules, “Captain, do you not wish to tie up at the jetty for storms do blow up quickly in these waters.”
“Thank you for the offer but we do not wish to give the crew the temptation of your drink and the slave women. We have few enough crewmwn as it is.”
“As you wish then. If you wish to buy any provisions I am sure it can be arranged.”
As they watched them row back to The Swan, Trygg turned to Snorri. “I do not trust them. Have some warriors keep an eye on them.”
Snorri looked at the departing boat. “They seemed genuine to me.”
“Perhaps but two of them, the younger ones looked to have the lean and hungry look of predators. If that had been a dragon ship I would not have been surprised. See if you can find out how many they have in their crew.”
“We could easily take the ship if you are concerned. Our ships are almost ready for sea and that old tub could not out run us.”
“No, for I genuinely do want to begin trading with others and this may be the perfect opportunity. Just keep an eye on them for a couple of days and report to me.”
Furax couldn’t wait to find out what they had seen. He pestered them from the moment the boat pulled up at the stern. “Furax, wait until we are aboard and then you will find out all.”
As they waited, hidden below decks Rufius peered out of the small ventilation hole to look at the distant harbour. “Only keep one or two men on deck captain. I want them to think we are undermanned. And you had better have one of them keep a watch on movements to and from their ships. If they suddenly decided to put to sea then I want to know.”
“Well we have seen Marcus but I have no idea how we are going to rescue him. He was hobbled, there are guards on the hall, guards on the gate and guards on the jetty.”
“True Gnaeus but the Parcae have helped us for they have arranged for them to be drunk tonight and we know how the Germani like to drink don’t we?”
There was s silence as they all contemplated their plan of attack. Rufius wished that Metellus was with them for he had the best mind for strategy and plans. Rufius had no doubt that he could get into the fort unseen but getting Marcus out was another matter and the other nagging doubt was the woman he had seen with Marcus. If they had to get her out as well then it would be difficult.
Furax broke the silence with the impishness of youth. “Well! Have you a plan or not? How are we going to rescue Marcus?”
Hercules cuffed the boy around the neck but then said, “The cheeky money is right Rufius. How do we do it?”
“The chief said that we could buy whatever we need o at dusk we go in to buy some fresh meat or milk. That would be understandable. That gets us through the guards on the jetty. After dusk we go back to the jetty and dispose of the guards there, substitute our own men. Then we wait until the feast is in full swing. If it is anything like a Brigante feast there will be a lot of movement in and out of the gates, we dress in the clothes of the two guards and get to the slave hall. Gnaeus and I should be able to take the guards and then we rescue Marcus.”
Hercules looked doubtfully at the slight Gnaeus, “I don’t know, the guards on the slave hall looked big to me.”
“We may not even have to deal with the guards. They may just bar the doors and join the fun. It is what others would do. It may be that the guards are not there at night. “He sighed. “Look, I know that the plan is flimsy and as Explorates we were always taught to scout out thoroughly but we have to strike tonight. The feast is too good an opportunity to let slip by. We could watch to see if the guards do stay there all night and try tomorrow but either way we have the same problem.”
“It will work Rufius, it has to.”
“Thank you Gnaeus but your kind words will not make it happen, we need a lot of luck and a lot of drunken guards for it to succeed.”
Marcus and Frann had very similar emotions and feelings as they huddled together in the slave hall. “They were your friends?”
“Yes they are my friends. I told you they would come.”
“But there are guards at the doors.”
“Do not worry they will find a way but we need to be ready to leave quickly and quietly. The first thing we need to do is to move closer to the doors.”
The places near to the doors were the least desirable as the wind whistled beneath the ill fitting opening and it was further away from the feeble fire. Marcus knew that they had to sneak out and, much as he would hate to leave the captives, helplessly trapped, he knew that there only chance of success lay in secrecy. What he did not confide in Frann was his plan to go into the main hall and steal back the Sword of Cartimandua. He suspected that Rufius might try to prevent him too but he would have to take that chance. He had been given an opportunity to redeem himself and he knew that Macro’s presence, in the form of the iconic hawk, was a message to him and one he could not ignore.
“Reach behind me into my belt and find the knife Drugi gave to me. Hide it where you can get at it and be careful, for it is sharp. When all are asleep we will cut my bonds and prepare to escape.”
Frann prepared them some food; it was not that they were hungry, the were not and were both too nervous to enjoy the food anyway but it passed the time and fitted in with the behaviour of the other slaves, huddled together trying to cook a meal from their meagre rations over a fire far too small for the task. The other slaves seemed to resent both Frann and Marcus, probably because Marcus was the embodiment of what they had all lost, a man. Both of them were either ignored or just the object of stares and mumbled curses. The effect was to force Frann and Marcus closer together.
As they played at eating their food Frann broached a question which she did not wish to ask but knew that their future depended upon that answer. “If… when we reach Britannia, what of us? I know that, for both of us, it was convenient and necessary to be together and for me to be with child. In Britannia you will not need a woman. What of me?”
Marcus pulled her closer to him and kissed her gently on the top of her head. He had not planned on meeting her and falling in love but that was the way the bones had fallen. “You are my woman and when we reach my home I will make you my wife and you will live with my mother and my brother and you will be safe.” As they lay in silence Marcus did not see the tears of gratitude streaming down her face.
They had both dozed off when the door burst open and Snorri stood, framed in the fading light of the sunset. He had with him two guards and they dragged the decurion roughly to his feet. While his hands and arms were secured Snorri quickly examined Marcus’ clothes; he ran his arms down his breeks and patted them. He felt all over Marcus’ body for anything which was hard. Finally he checked that the hobbles were still secure and had not been loosened. Without a word Marcus was dropped to the floor and the three of them left. Marcus thanked the fates which had warned him to give the knife to Frann. The killing of the brothers had changed the way that Chief Trygg viewed the Roman. He had gone from being an amusing asset to a threat and Rufius’ rescue could not come too soon.
Chapter 12
The skiff was well loaded as it glided, silently into the jetty. Apart from Marcus and Gnaeus, there were four ex-soldiers. Their weapons were secreted in the bottom of the boat and all six of them carried concealed knives. The two sentries looked bored and unhappy that they were not at the party and walked, belligerently, up to Rufius. “What do you want?”
Feigning an innocent expression and with just a hint of outrage in his voice Rufius spread his arms. “Your council and the ch
ief said that we could buy provisions for we have travelled a long way. Is this not the case? Should we sail for another port?”
Not wishing to be on the wrong end of Snorri’s boot the surly guard back tracked. “No, but there is a feast in the hall and most people are there. You will be lucky to find anyone who is sober.”
Smiling Rufius said, “Don’t worry about that,” he jangled a bag of coins. “We have brought plenty of silver with us.” He turned to the two men in the skiff. “You two keep an eye on the boat and no sloping off for a quick drink.” Rufius reflected that they could all go on the stage with such acting skills. The two men looked suitably annoyed. Their real task, as outlined on the ship had been to find a second boat; partly to make it easier to get the whole party to safety and to eliminate any pursuit.
The four of them made their way through the huts and halls which filled the space between the port and the walls of the palisaded settlement. The guards had been correct. There were not many homes which showed a glimmer of light. The first two they tried contained women but they had nothing to sell. The last one they tried sold them a skin of milk and some cheese. Rufius took the risk of wandering up to the gates to see the state of the guards. Both looked alert but relaxed. As the four men walked up to the gate they did not react aggressively and Rufius gestured at the hall which was filled with a cacophony of noise and shrieks. “Good feast eh?”
“Aye.” One the two guards nodded in a good natured manner, “I am sure that you would be made welcome.”
“Thank you but the captain wants these provisions quickly but thank you for the offer. We will see what he says when we return.”
As they walked slowly back to the jetty Marcus turned to Gnaeus. “That is a little bit of good fortune. We don’t need to sneak in we can just walk in. You and Decimus wait here, keep an eye out for any relief guards. If they send any more warriors down then dispose of them. We will take care of these two guards at the jetty.”