by Griff Hosker
The Legate was beaming. “Well done Prefect your men did well.”
Marius gestured at Wolf and Cava who were busy looking for the men of their turmae. “It was Felix and Paterculus. They led them to us.”
“And a brilliant move it was. We will soon catch them and defeat them. We will make camp here and you can send troopers to follow them. Osgar appeared beside Marius like a wraith, making the horses of the officers start. He sniffed, “No need.” He pointed to the north west. “They’ll be going to Carl Wark, it is a hill fort at the end of the ridge. A proper hill fort from the old times. Built out of the natural rock. They will stay there until they think you are bored.”
The Legate got over his surprise and , ignoring the Brigante scout said to Marius. “All the same we can send a turma to watch them and let them know we are coming and, “he glared at Osgar who seemed oblivious to the stare, “we will remove them for we will not be bored!”
For Wolf and the other officers it was a sad time as they had suffered more casualties than in any other battle. It was particularly sad for Wolf and Gerjen; only Panyvadi, Darvas and Kadarcs, all now Decurion survived. The other comrades who had travelled across a continent to fight for Rome lay dead. “They died as warriors Wolf. They died with a sword in their hands.”
“I know but I will miss them.” Wolf had lost more than half his turma for all his old friends from childhood still fought with him. “And it is strange Gerjen, I suddenly feel older than my years. It is like a father losing his children. I thought I would be the one to die first.”
“Not you Wolf, you are lucky, You are Ulpius Felix. You will outlive us all. The Allfather has another purpose for you. You will not die here.”
They laid their friends in a grave together. Above it they placed a cairn of rocks. Wolf spoke a few words to send them on their way. “You were oath brothers who did not break your oath to me and you kept your oath to Rome. You died with honour and we will remember you when we fight again. Wait for us brothers and watch over us.”
The next day they tramped to the hill fort and even the Legate was taken aback at the size and strength of the place. It was built from a natural rock formation and had three sides which were solid rock and unassailable. The front had a wall built and before it was a pool of indeterminate depth. That was the only place from which they could launch their attack and they would have to do so whilst being attacked from above. The gate was its weak point but it lay directly behind the pool. The Legate had relented his opinion of Brigante scouts and seek the opinion and advice of Osgar. Who seemed to take it as understood.
“The pool is only as deep as a man’s leg but beneath its waters there are rocks and stakes.”
“Is there any way to attack?”
Osgar looked at him as though he was stupid. “Just wait.”
The Legate’s mouth dropped open, “Wait? That isn’t the Roman way.”
Marius said, gently, “Tell me Osgar, why wait?”
“They have no food. They have too many men in the fort and the only water is the water in the pool.” He pointed to the rocks to the sides of the pool. “Your men can hide in the rocks and throw your spears at those who come to get water.” He looked up at the skies, which were clear. “If there is no rain, then three days.”
The Legate dismissed him with a wave of his hand. He turned to First Spear. “We build a camp and tomorrow you attack. We will show this Brigante and those in the fort that Rome does not need to wait for barbarians to surrender.”
First Spear gave the back of the Legate a look which left the other prefects under no illusion about his opinion of the Legate’s plan but he was a professional soldier and he would obey orders, no matter how ridiculous they were.
The next morning the Gauls were placed on the flanks with their javelins ready to support the Second Cohort which would bear the brunt of the assault. First Spear led the assault and they had a half century frontage as they began to make their way across the pool. Their shields were ready to go into testudo formation as soon as they came under attack but First Spear wanted as much light on the dark pool to identify obstacles. A legionary on the right discovered the first and fell back into the water with a stake embedded in his leg.
”Fucking lillia! Watch for traps. Put your feet down gently!”
No sooner were the words out than the barrage from inside the fort began. They used javelins and arrows but mainly the plentiful rocks from within. The Gauls targeted those who stood to hurl the largest rocks and they fell but there were enough men inside the stronghold to throw from within its walls with impunity.
“Testudo!” As the shields came up and around the casualties from the missiles stopped but suddenly men fell within the testudo and the integrity was broken. It says much for the courage of the men of the Second Cohort that they closed ranks and continued to the gate. Once they began to hack at the wooden gate but the Brigante had expected this and the huge rocks which were either side of the gate were levered down. The eight men at the gate were crushed to death and the sudden gap allowed the defenders to throw their spears and javelins at the men who were suddenly exposed.
“Fall back!” First Spear could see the futility and they braved the trapped filled water.
The Legate stood defiantly at the other side of the pool having seen over a hundred men die needlessly. First Spear, his face bloodied from a head wound, threw an arm to point at the fort. “They have blocked the gate and they are trapped. The only way out now is to climb the walls and they won’t do that! We will wait.”
It was not a request and the Legate could see it. “Very well then we will wait.”
In the end they only had to wait one day for any man who tried to reach the water was slain by the Gauls and a voice from inside called out. “We wish to speak with your general.”
The Legate looked for Marius. “You, Prefect come with me and bring that scout of yours.” With four legionaries guarding him with their shields the Legate approached the edge of the pool.
Venutius appeared at the top of the ruined gate. “Further bloodshed is unnecessary. We will surrender. We will go home.”
Osgar translated and the Legate said, “Tell him his men must come out one by one and leave their weapons behind.” Osgar threw him a look of disgust but did as he was ordered. Venutius disappeared.
“You can’t let them go sir? He will only do it again.”
Leave the grander schemes to me Prefect. If I kill these men and their leader then I will risk a full scale rebellion. This way he goes home with shame. He may well rebel again but it will not be for some time. He will have to walk home to the land of the Carvetii and you and your men will follow him all the way.”
It was a much smaller ala which set off to trek through the whole of the land of the Brigantes to the homeland of the Carvetii, Venutius’ people in the far north west. They had lost almost eighty men in the encounter, either wounded or dead. Aulus Murgus had been wounded too and would have to return with the infantry to Lindum. The Brigante rebel, Venutius did not like his escort. He had told the Legate that he had given his word but the expression on Cerialis’ face had left him in no doubt that an escort would be provided. The legion too had suffered losses. First Spear was all for crucifixion as a message to other rebels but Cerialis was pleased with his relatively bloodless victory.
“We will now surround their land with forts and they will be controlled.”
In the days which followed Wolf spent every waking moment with Osgar learning the language and the ways of the people. Flavius had asked him why. “If we can understand them both their words and their actions then we can understand how to defeat them. I have looked into the eyes of their king and he is not finished. It will not be finished until his head is no longer part of his body. I have been listening to them as they speak. I can translate more of their words than they know and he is already planning to attack again when he has sufficient men.” Flavius looked at Osgar who nodded. We need to know every uncia of this land
so that next time we do not stumble up a ridge and lose men and we need more scouts like Osgar. We need many more in the ala. These men are good trackers. Osgar saved me and my men. Cava lost men not because I am a better Decurion but because I had more help.”
And so Wolf became the ala expert on the Brigante. He spent time talking to them and asking about their homes. At first they were reluctant but there was something about the young man which made them forget he was an enemy and open up to him. His scarred eye marked him as a warrior and the respect afforded him by the Brigante Osgar compounded it. When they finally reached the land of the lakes close to the Ituna Est, Decurion Lupus Ulpius Felix knew far more about his enemies and his allies than any other Roman. It would help to save lives in the future.
Chapter 10
Cataractonium 56AD
It had been two years since Nero had gained the Imperial throne. Many people had suggested that he had murdered not only his mother and step father but also his half brother, Britannicus. Of course no one voiced these views in public; there were too many political appointments for that. Every fresh faced patrician who joined was a suspect, especially to the Pannonians. The Romans who commanded them had proved that they were warriors over and over again.
Since Venutius had been defeated and finally sent home, over a year ago the frontier had had an uneasy peace and Queen Cartimandua had been so pleased that she had invited the Prefects, Tribunes and Legate to her hall for a celebrations. When Marius came back and they asked her about the Queen he seemed unable to talk coherently, “She is beautiful beyond words and has a power and an energy which I would have expected from a man. She has thrown out her husband and taken with a young warrior, Vellocatus who is younger than Gerjen. The people love her and she even has an old centurion, from the time of the invasion who is her guardian; even he seems totally enraptured by her.”
“If you don’t mine me saying so sir, so do you.”
Proculus smiled at Flavius. “You may be right but wait until you meet her and you will see. We all suggested to her that she ought to build her army up but she seemed quite happy to let the Roman army do that for her.”
“We heard she has a magical sword.”
“Aye, the Sword of the Brigante. We saw it for she likes to show it off. It is encrusted with jewels but that did not interest us; it was the blade for it was not only sharp but strong. Gerantium, the centurion told us that he had seen it shear an ordinary sword in two. It is a powerful weapon and the Brigante regard it as a symbol not only of the power of the ruler but the life blood of the people. “
A year later and the Prefect had returned from the new fort being constructed at Eboracum for the Third Cohort of the Ninth. “The good news is that the Ninth are going to be based a little closer to us than Lindum. The new fort at Eboracum is less than a day’s ride from here and the Via Nero is being built already to join it to us. The bad news is that the Legate is going to tour the forts and check on our readiness for war.”
“War sir? The Brigante as at peace.”
“True, but the Silures are not and the Deceangli close to Deva are rattling their swords. It means that the Twentieth can no longer extend their influence north. Venutius is reported, according to the queen, to be building up an army. At the moment it is not large but we know from our last battle that they can move quickly.”
Flavius murmured, “First Spear was right we should have crucified the bastard.”
Ignoring the comment of the Decurion Princeps the Prefect addressed all of the officers, “And now to more mundane matters. Where is Publius? I need to see our roll and what equipment we require. The Legate will expect everything in order when he comes.”
Flavius shook his head with a smile on his lips. “You are getting old sir. Remember when you went for your week long meeting we had a farewell party for Publius. You probably passed him on your way north. He is heading for Camulodunum. He is to be a farmer.”
“Of course I forgot and you Quintus, when do you retire?”
“Next year sir. I have a little place close to Verulamium all picked out.”
“Looks like I am losing my oldest officers eh? So we need a new Decurion.”
“We are fully manned at the moment sir. Aulus stood with some difficulty. The wound in his leg had healed but left him with a bad limp. “He pointed out of the window. “We have sixty recruits but they are not fully trained yet.” None of the turmae are up to full compliment.”
“Thank you Aulus. I was going to ask Quintus to be the new Quartermaster but if he is to retire in a year then we should have someone who will be here longer. I thought of you Aulus.”
“Sorry sir, much as I would like the job I think I will be going out the same time as Quintus. I would have signed on for another five years but,” he smacked his leg with the vine staff he affected, “this slows me down too much. I am not the soldier I was and for me that isn’t good enough. I will do the job until you find someone and then train them up.”
“Very well.” He shook his head. “Perhaps I ought to retire her too.”
The Decurion Princeps became serious. “No sir, please don’t do that. That prick Cerialis would dump one of his acolytes on us and we would all have to resign.”
“Yes I suppose we will have to suffer the insufferable Cresens again. Very well make a list of your needs and give it to Aulus and then return to your forts. I will be stationed at Isurium Brigantium.”
Isurium Brigantium was the fort closest to Stanwyck, Queen Cartimandua’s sometime capital and had been built with the express purpose of protecting her. By contrast Derventio was far to the north east, almost a day’s ride from Cataractonium.
“Close to the Queen eh sir?”
“Decurion Princeps are you suggesting that I might just be stationed there to be close to the Queen and the amazing feasts she throws?”
Wolf laughed, “We would all be there in a flash sir. All we hear are your reports. We have never even seen her.”
“Decurion Ulpius Felix she would eat you alive in a moment.” The laughter was all directed at Wolf who blushed and then took the ribbing in the way it was intended. “By the way how are the new recruits?”
Flavius nodded at Wolf, “They are better thanks to our master of languages here Felix. He can actually speak to them and let them know what we intend. Oh and we now have three more Brigante scouts. I sent one to Derventio, one to Isurium and left two here.”
“Why do you need three Decurion Princeps?”
“We train the recruits sir. It gives us more interpreters.”
“Very well. Carry on.”
Wolf went directly to the gyrus where Gaius, his Chosen Man awaited him. “The new recruits all settled in Gaius?” Although it had been a year since the heavy losses at Carl Wark the Second Turma had had to wait until all the other turmae had been brought up to full strength. As Flavius had pointed out it was easier to replace two or three men rather than sixteen. It meant that Wolf and Gaius had the most recruits of any of them. The rest of the turma lounged against the rails as the sixteen new recruits sat awkwardly on their new horses in their new armour and with their new arms. They had been shorn weeks earlier and had spent the next four weeks working with Sextus and Numerius on simple commands. Wolf and the turma had patrolled as far north as the river which marked the border of the land of the Brigante and the end of the Roman Empire. Now, as he surveyed his new men he thought of them as rough clay. When he had taken over the turma it had been with fellow Pannonians but these were volunteers from Britannia and Gaul. The Gauls came from areas where they had too many volunteers for the cohorts and the surplus were shipped to the alae which needed them, regardless of an ability to ride.
“Welcome to the best turma in the ala.” He pointed to Osgar who was busy cleaning a rabbit skin. “We have the best scout.” Osgar spat and Wolf smiled as he pointed towards Gaius and the other troopers, “And we have the most decorated troopers in Britannia because we are the toughest and the bravest. You are joini
ng an elite team and if you do not meet its standards then it will be off to the cohorts with you.” He smiled, “And the loss of pay.” He strolled along the front of the line of horses staring at each man as he passed. “I am Decurion Lupus Ulpius Felix. That was not my name when I joined so I don’t want to know the names you had. You are Romans now and I will address you as a Roman. For those who are still unfamiliar with Roman names let me tell you that the Lupus means I am like a Wolf. When you were growing up at home and you listened to the howling of the wolf you were afraid. When I yell then you should be afraid too. Felix means I am lucky.” He pointed at his scarred eye. “I was lucky because, when I was stupid enough to think no-one could harm me the Allfather saved me and just took an eye. That is why I am lucky. Some of you came from this province; others from the recruitment camps in Gaul. Your background does not interest me. What does matter is if you can ride or not. We will now discover that.” They all glanced nervously at each other. “Just ride one circuit around the gyrus.”
They had all basic riding lessons and Wolf did not expect them to fall off. He just wanted to see who looked comfortable. After one circuit he sent them for a trot. He covered his mouth to hide a smile as he saw some of them slip from side to side. He let them rest and smile in that self satisfied way that shows someone thinks they have done a good job; even though some of them had been lucky not to fall off. “Now then, one by one, I want you to gallop around as fast as you can and then stop in front of me.” He paused, “Do not hit me!” The troopers smiled in anticipation; this would be their chance to have fun at the recruits’ expense.
The first recruit gritted his teeth and galloped around the gyrus. His face was a mixture of terror and exhilaration. As he turned the corner his face turned to horror as he realised the horse was not slowing and Wolf was only ten paces away. In desperation he jerked the reins to the side and pulled back. The horse gamely tried to turn and stop but he couldn’t and they crashed in a heap at the Decurion’s feet. He looked down at the youth who gave a half mile up at Wolf. “Well at least you didn’t hit me.”