by Griff Hosker
“Oh sorry Prefect. Now when you leave half of the ala at Cataractonium I assume that you will leave the Decurion Princeps in charge of the half ala.”
“I had not thought that far ahead.”
“Well I would like you with me so let us leave him there. And how about your older officers?”
“Decurion Murgus retired last year and moved to Verulamium. Decurion Sextus has retired but stayed on as Quartermaster.”
“So you have enough stability there.”
“Yes sir.”
“I think we need a second Decurion Princeps.”
“Well there are two obvious candidates; Decurion Felix and Decurion Paterculus.”
The Legate shook his head. “Both good men and worthy of their position but they are Pannonian and we need Romans.”
“In that case Decurion Buteo, he is the last of the original Troopers.”
“I think he is a little too old.”
Marius wondered where the Legate was going with this; he obviously had a candidate in mind. “Who would you recommend then sir?”
“Gaius Cresens.”
“No sir!”
The Legate’s eyes narrowed and he suddenly sat upright. “What exactly do you mean Prefect?”
“I mean that I do not want that pervert in my ala at all and I certainly do not want him as Decurion Princeps.”
“You forget yourself Prefect. I am Legate and, in the Governor’s absence, I make all appointments and Gaius Cresens will be the Decurion Princeps in your ala. Need I remind you Prefect that your family name does not give you security in your post?”
“That sounds like a threat to me Legate.”
He shrugged nonchalantly, “To be honest I do not care what you take to be a threat or an order. But it will happen.”
Marius wanted to reach over and punch the pompous Legate in the face but he knew he had no power at all. “Very well sir but I will not be responsible for his treatment in the ala.”
The Legate stood and spoke with a pause between each word to emphasis its meaning. “You are the Prefect of the ala and if anything untoward happens to Gaius Cresens then there will be a new Prefect in command of the ala.”
“Sir!”
The ala was camped close to the river and, as he walked back, Marius wondered how he could break the news to his officers. There would be no easy way and he owed his officers, and the men, honesty. He felt himself colouring already before he even met them. This was embarrassing and a mark of his family’s fall from favour. He just hoped they would understand. He walked slowly into the tent. There was a good atmosphere and he could tell that they had been drinking. It was not often that they had the chance to relax and let down their guard; here at Eboracum they were safe.
“Hello sir! And where are we off to now?”
Kadarcs had never changed and, even as a Decurion he was still irrepressible. “Just down south Decurion. We are going to be close to the Iceni.”
Wolf gave Cava a sharp look. He had told his friend about the threat and warned that they would have to move further south. “Prasutagus?”
“Yes Wolf, he has died.”
“Then we are in for a shit load of trouble.”
The mood had instantly changed and Marius knew he had to be honest. “The ala is splitting in two. The Decurion Princeps will remain in Cataractonium with half of the turmae and we will go south to Durobrivae with the rest and the new Decurion Princeps.” Flavius shrugged.
They all looked in anticipation at Wolf and Cava. There was much nudging and murmuring. Flavius knew the Prefect well and this did not look like good news. “Who is it to be then sir?”
Marius took a deep breath and looked assiduously at Wolf. “It is Gaius Cresens.”
The one Decurion that Marius had expected to react the most strongly just sat there; a cold hard expression on his face. The rest all began talking at once. Marius held up a tired hand. “It is done; it is the Legate’s decision.” The noise subsided. “If he is hurt then there will be a new Prefect. He will meet us at Durobrivae.”
The euphoria and excitement of the moment dissipated lie fog on a summer’s morning. Wolf stood and, putting his hand on the Prefect’s shoulder, said, “It is not your fault Prefect. We will not let you down and we will deal with it.” The threat in Wolf’s voice sent shivers down the prefect’s spine.
The Selgovae did not normally raid in winter and certainly not into Roman territory but they had seen the new bridge being built in the autumn. They had waited for the fort to be built but, inexplicably, the men of iron who built the road had disappeared and, gradually, the dreaded horse warriors had stopped their patrols. To Tad, chief of the Selgovae warband who lived close to the thick forest in the north, this was too good an opportunity to miss. They were hard men and a journey through the cold land in the shortest days did not worry them. It was as though the gods were aiding them by providing the cover of dark. The Brigante had women who could be slaves and many animals to feed the Selgovae through the winter. The soft Brigante had become too used to the protection of the Romans and now, as Tad led his men across the wooden bridge in the cold dawn of winter, he thanked the Romans fro making their lives so much easier. They were not mounted for they were a forest people but they moved swiftly through the frosty land.
The first settlement, ten huts in all, was still asleep when the wolves of the north fell upon them. Their men were slaughtered and the women and children bound. Tad sent them and their animals north with an escort of ten men. He still had thirty warriors, which was more than enough to deal with the second settlement, a little further west and close to the river. This collection of eight huts had neither ditch nor fence to keep out intruders but they did have an old man with a weak bladder. He saw the raiders and yelled a warning, “He died with an arrow in his chest but he had died honourably, helping his people. The few men and boys grabbed whatever they had and hurled themselves at the enemy in an attempt to defend their families. The headman, Cynbel wished his son Gaelwyn and his brother Osgar were with him for then they might have had a chance. As he slew a Selgovae with his axe he saw that they would die and he yelled to the women and children, “Flee to the woods! Find the Romans!” The handful of defenders paid with their lives for the chance to escape but sadly but one boy managed to escape. The Selgovae slaughtered the defenders and then set off after the women and children. One small boy, Adair, made himself as small as possible and hid under a bramble bush. He heard the Selgovae hunting but he lay undiscovered. When he was sure that they had gone he emerged and, despite Cynbel’s instructions he returned to the village, hoping to find some who still lived. There were none. Remembering the last orders he set off to the south, heading for the Roman road which would bring him to the Roman fort and the horse warriors.
Flavius was still brooding about the appointment of Gaius Cresens when the sentry reported the boy’s arrival. “Bring him in.” Gaius Cresens was not a threat tot Flavius but he would upset the morale of the ala and Flavius could not see why the Legate had ignored the advice of the Prefect. All thoughts of Cresens left his mind as soon as the weeping and bloody boy was brought before him. “Send for the Capsarius and Gaelwyn the scout.” He went to the outer office, “Julius bring some food and water. This boy is about to collapse.” The ala clerk was an efficient man and he brought the boy some warmed watered down wine. Flavius nodded his thanks. As the boy wolfed down the bread and gratefully drank the warming wine. His fingers and lips were blue. Flavius knew he would get no sense from him until he was warmer.
The capsarius quickly dressed the wounds and Gaelwyn came in as the medical orderly was finishing. “You sent for me…Adair!” As soon as the boy saw Gaelwyn he burst into tears and threw his arms around the youth.
“You know him?”
“He is from my village.”
“Find out what happened.”
Between sobs the boy called Adair blurted out the story. Grim faced, Gaelwyn held the young boy in the crook of his arm. “The Sel
govae raided my village sir and they killed all the men, including my father, and they took our families.”
Flavius knew he had no time to lose. He went to the sentry. “Sound to arms. The ala rides within the hour.” Turning to the capsarius he said, “Look after the boy. Come Gaelwyn we shall need your skills this day.”
Gaelwyn needed no urging as he led them unerringly to the village. The devastation was clear. “Gaelwyn, we have no time to honour the dead now, let us follow.”
“Sir!” The youth scanned the ground and then set off around the edge of the village. His voice came from the bushes. “This way sir. They are heading for the bridge.”
The passed the first raided settlement saw they neared the bridge. Once they reached it they could see that they had been too late. On the northern bank lay the bodies of two of the villagers who had been too slow to continue the journey. Their lack of clothes and the way they lay left the pursuers in no doubt that they had been raped before they had died.
Flavius had the bodies brought back and Gaelwyn waited on the northern bank. “Come on sir. We will lose them.”
Flavius shook his head. “These girls were killed many hours ago.” He pointed to the sun which was setting. “We will not find them this night and I cannot follow north, we are the only soldiers in this part of the world. No Gaelwyn, when the ala returns then we will rescue them.”
Gaelwyn’s face filled with tears. “But sir my mother, my sister Duana, my cousin Ailis?”
“I know Gaelwyn but you have my word that they will be recovered but we will stop any more incursions. Destroy the bridge.”
Decurion Buteo rode next to his friend. “Is that wise? Have you the authority?”
“The bridge was built when we had a legion here and a full ala. Until they return this is the frontier once more. It is my decision Numerius and I will take any blame.”
“We all stand with you.” He nodded to the youth. “He and his uncle Osgar will take this badly you know?”
“I know but we cannot do aught else.”
As the ala, the Gauls and the First Cohort marched into Durobrivae a messenger was already travelling from Dubris with a message for the Governor. He did not know its contents but it was like the tiny flame which would engulf the whole province. As he rode north, first to Londinium and then to Durobrivae the Legate himself was receiving news from Mona that the Governor had almost defeated the druids but at a great cost.
Gaius Cresens had stayed close to his sponsor, the Legate whenever he could. He had not been assigned a turma and the Prefect had assiduously omitted to give him any duties. In the first weeks at the fort the Legate was too busy to notice but as the days began to lengthen slightly he summoned the Prefect. Gaius Cresens sulkily sat in the corner. “Prefect, my orders were for this officer to become Decurion Princeps. Why has this not been put into action?”
“It has sir. This officer is now my deputy.”
“Don’t try to be funny with me Prefect. He has not been given any duties nor has he been given men to command. Do so now!”
“I cannot create a turma sir. We are not at full strength yet.”
“Very well. There are thirty recruits here and they will be given to the Decurion Princeps as his turma. He can command and train them and you will ensure that the rest of the ala understand and respect his position.”
“Very well sir!”
The recruits had not been trained yet as Marius did not like the look of them. These were no the young warriors of Britannia, like Lucius and Marcus, these were the ones rejected in Gaul and Batavia by Prefects who knew trouble when they saw it. In a way Marius was perversely pleased that they had been given to Cresens but at the same time he was proud of the ala and did not want its reputation tarnished. He was pragmatic enough to realise that he could not win in this situation.
Their camp was adjacent to the fortress and his officers had been training the men in readiness for a spring campaign. They all knew that the Iceni were in a state of unrest and it was only the winter which prevented them from showing their displeasure. Wolf had a smaller turma than most but they were well trained. The Prefect used his turma to patrol the northern borders of the land of the Iceni. Osgar did not know the land and he did not like it. “Flat and boggy! The Iceni can keep it.”
Wolf smiled at his scout. “Good farmland though Osgar.”
“Farmland! Give me a forest for hunting a river for fishing. I have looked in these piddly little rivers. There’s only a few eels in them. Not real fish, salmon.”
“Concentrate on getting the lay of the land. When we are needed then we will have to ride quickly and I remember when we were here in the autumn. I want to be better prepared.”
They were on their way back and approaching the Via Claudia when Drusus who was at the rear shouted, “Sir, rider. He looks to be Roman.”
Wolf halted the patrol and the Imperial messenger galloped up to meet them. “Ah good, Romans; I was worried you might be bandits.”
Wolf shook his head. “I take it this is your first time in Britannia?”
“Yes Decurion. It is the wild frontier is it not?”
“This is the civilised part. Who is the message for?”
He hesitated, wondering if this scarred Decurion was to be trusted and then he continued. “It is from the Emperor himself and is for the Governor or whoever is in command in this region.”
“The Governor is in the west and, believe me, you do not want to go there. They really are savages there but the Legate Cerialis is in Durobrivae. Then your job is done.”
The young messenger grinned. “That is a relief. It is my first important message and it has weighed heavily upon me.”
As they rode into the camp Wolf gestured at the fort. “The Legate is in there. He likes his comfort.” The messenger rode off and Wolf led his patrol into the stables. As they dismounted he noticed the new recruits leaving the stables. He liked neither their looks nor their attitude. Since Gaius Cresens had taken them over they seemed imbued with a sense of ill-deserved superiority. They slouched past him and, as he stood in the stable entrance he shouted. “You troopers, halt.” They slowly turned around. “When you see an officer you salute.” They stared at him. “Do it!” The bark worked and they all saluted. Wolf would not normally have made a fuss but he resented Cresens and his influence.
As he entered the stable he heard the Decurion Princeps as he shouted, “Those are my men and I order them not you Decurion.” The pudgy officer came out of a stall.
Wolf turned to Gaius, “Watch the door.” Gaius threw him a warning look. “Just watch my back.” As Gaius turned Wolf leapt forward and pinned Gaius Cresens against the stall. ” Let us get one thing clear you are only here because the Legate ordered the Prefect to accept you but there is not a single officer or trooper who will obey you.” He whipped his pu geo out and held it close to Cresens eye. “You remember this don’t you? Well here is a warning. You order your little bunch of bandits around but no-one else. Now I know what you are thinking. You will go to the Legate and yo u will tell him of my actions. I can see it in your piggy little eyes. Now if you do I dare say I will be reprimanded, perhaps even flogged.” He shrugged. “I can live with that. Maybe even dem oted. I don’t care for if you do tell the Legate then you will be killed . This is no idle threat. I should have killed you for what you did to Lucius but that is my mistake and I will live with it but you, you fat, evil fucker will keep away from the rest of us. Do you understand?” The point of the pugeo was incredibly close to Cresens eye. Cresens remained silent. “I understand about eyes you know ? I lost mine in a battle. They are very fragile things. If I was to push this forwards it would enter your eye. If I pushed a little further and twisted it would pop out like a cork from an amphora. Let me a sk you again, do you understand?”
The terrified officer croaked, “Yes.”
Wolf released him. “And remember. There is not just me who wishes you harm, there are five hundred troopers here and another five hundr
ed at Cataractonium who would do as I promised and when we go into battle… watch your back! For no-one else will.”
The white faced officer stormed past Gaius. “You want to watch him sir. He’s a sly bastard.”
Decurion Lupus Ulpius Fe lix grinned and it was a grin without humour. “I have not yet finished with the fat one.”
As the Legate was reading the Imperial missive a trooper rode in to the camp from the north. It was one of the troopers from the tenth turma. He reported directly to the Prefect. Wolf was walking to his tent when Marius waved him over. “Where is Osgar?”
“ He is probably hunting himself some supper sir why?”
“News from the north; his village was attacked, the men slain and the women and children take n as slaves.”
“His brother then?”
“Aye and Gaelwyn’s f amily too. It will go hard with him.”
Wolf shook his head. “He will not show it but he will remember, it is the Brigante way. I have learned much about them since working with him. We will see no tears but the Selgovae had best watch out for h e is a wicked enemy. Would you like me to tell him sir?”
“If you would and speaking of wicked enemies, who upset our new Decurion Princeps?”
Wolf gave the prefect his most innocent face. Not easy wi th a scar running down it.” Couldn’t say sir.”
“Lupus, be careful he is a dangerous man.”
“No sir, I am a dangerous man he is a pervert with a nasty streak. That is the difference and do not worry sir. I will be careful.”
Wolf sought Osgar and told him of the disaster. As he had expected Osgar just nodded. “Sir,” he smiled, “Wolf. I do not know the country around here and the young Iceni troopers you have know as much as I do. I think Gaelwyn will need me.”
“Of course Osgar. You have my permission.” He smiled, “Take a horse. You will get there quicker.”
“Very well, but just the once and if I get piles again I am blaming you, sir”
The Legate summoned the senior officers to a meeting. It irked Marius somew hat to see Gaius Cresens present but he could not say anything about it. “We have our orders from the Emperor Nero himself.” Cerialis said it as though the word had come from Nero’s lips directly into his ear. “We are to enforce the terms of the will of King Prasutagus. The Emperor and the King’s daughters are to inherit the land of the Iceni. Of course the girls are too young to inherit and so we will invest their capital and take the treasur y.”