by Griff Hosker
This intelligence was probably the most frightening of all. The marching gait told him that these men were there as Romans. A Roman adviser meant that the Brigante would know how the Romans fought. Rufius remembered when Livius’ brother had led an army of deserters who had joined the tribes. They had almost defeated the Romans. Had there not been two legions in the north it might have succeeded. Now there were even less Romans in the north. This revolt needed quashing before it grew.
Chapter 5
Rufius allowed Felix to sleep a little longer. He took the opportunity to check his counting. According to his tally stick there were over a thousand men. He wondered if there were other camps and then he looked again at the warriors. Most were of the same age as the two men he had encountered the night before. They were young warriors. These were being trained. The older ones were still on their farms and in their villages. Rufius mentally doubled the figure. Two and a half thousand men could devastate this region. If units were withdrawn from the wall then the Selgovae and Votadini would take the opportunity to flood across. He shook Felix awake. “It is time to go.”
They saddled the horse and then headed north to a place they could cross the Dunum away from any of the Brigante. They moved slowly for sudden movement might alert any scouts the Brigante who were seeking them. Rufius doubted that they would; they looked to be preparing for war and their isolation would make them feel safer. The problem they had was that they were travelling across open ground. The source of the Dunum was to the north west and was not much higher than they were. It meant that there was no place to hide.
The sound of hooves behind them told Rufius that they had been seen. He glanced over his shoulder and saw twenty horsemen on the ponies he had spotted earlier. The Parcae had been cruel. They had brought the horsemen to a place where Rufius could be seen. A shout went up confirming that they had been seen.
“Felix, run, across the river. Get to Drugi. There are over a thousand Brigante with horses!”
“But what of you, Decurion?”
“I am mounted. I will lead them away.” Felix and Wolf were hidden by Rufius’ mount. Felix nodded and he and Wolf took off with the easy ground eating lope he always used. The river was just half a mile away. He would soon reach it. Rufius jerked his horse’s head around. He would head for the stepping stones. It would draw the Brigante towards him. They would be able to close with him but he would be able to cross the river away from Felix.
“Right boy, let’s see how good a horse you are.”
He did not make the mistake of looking over his shoulder. You could easily cause your horse to stumble on this treacherous rock strewn land. He lowered his shoulders so that his head was almost touching his horse’s mane. He had learned he went faster riding like this. He concentrated on finding the safest line. He was hoping that the riders behind would not be as experienced and they might make a mistake. He just needed the numbers thinning out. If he could get their numbers down to five or six then he was confident that he could defeat them.
He heard the roaring of the falls in the distance and risked a glance under his arm. The leading riders had gained but he could see that they were now strung out and the two empty saddles told him that a couple of the warriors had not been attentive enough. He began to believe that he might escape. The river loomed up just forty paces away and he headed towards it. To his horror he saw twenty Brigante crossing the very stepping stones he intended to use. They turned and saw him. Their hesitation saved him. His appearance and disguise had worked. They were not certain if he was one of their warriors or not and it allowed Rufius to jerk the head of his horse around and ride parallel to the river. The problem Rufius had was that there was no place to go. He was stranded. He could not cross the river; the horses were behind him and to his right lay the Brigante camp. He was trapped.
The decurion had been well trained. He had been taught not to panic. He had only one alternative and, although it seemed impossible, he would have to try it. He jerked his horse’s head around and rode towards the water. He would try to swim across the swiftly moving Dunum. Once on the other side he had no idea how he would get the horse down the steep slope but he would deal with that problem when it arose. The warriors on the stones shouted their insults at him but the river was moving too quickly for them to risk it. Rufius’ nearest pursuers were the horsemen.
He plunged into the icy waters. It was treacherous. Rocks abounded and the river went from shallow to deep in paces. He pulled the reins around and headed east. Lying along the horse’s back he began to hope that he would make it when the current began to take both him and his horse towards the edge of the falls. The horse fought valiantly to counter the current but it was in vain. As it jerked its head around the slippery reins were torn from Rufius’ hand and they were separated. Rufius tried to swim but he was hampered by his sword. He loosened the belt and managed to drop the sword to the bottom of the river. As he struggled to remove his cloak his head struck a rock. He was briefly rendered unconscious and then he was swept, along with his horse over the falls.
Felix had watched all of this from the safety of the eastern shore. He had seen the warriors in the water and wondered if he ought to risk loosing arrows at them. He had a wise head on his young shoulders and knew that would end in disaster. When he saw first the horse and then the decurion plunge over Roaring Water, his heart sank with them. He watched as the Brigante halted on the bank. One of them dismounted and walked gingerly towards the edge. He peered over and, when he returned to his companions, he drew a hand across his throat. The gesture was clear. The decurion was dead.
Felix waited until the Brigante had left and then descended the path. At the bottom he was about to head east to give Drugi the dire news when he thought about the horse. The decurion was dead but the horse might just be injured. Drugi had brought Felix up to respect all animal life. He could not allow an animal to suffer. He turned and waved to Wolf, “Find the horse.”
The dog leapt off and disappeared before Felix had finished the command. Wolf waited at the foot of the falls. There, with its neck broken lay the horse. It had died instantly and Felix closed his eyes and asked Icaunus, the god of the river, to watch over the dead beast in the Otherworld. He saw the cloak the decurion had been wearing. It fluttered, like a banner, from one of the trees which had managed to grow from the rocks. The Roman would lie beneath the waters.
He was about to turn east and head home when Wolf darted away. Felix frowned. He did not shout. They were too close to the Brigante yet, for that. However he was curious; Wolf rarely disobeyed. He loped off along the path. There was a pool at the bottom of the falls where the water eddied in a lazy circle. Wolf was in the water and swimming towards Rufius. He was lying with his arm trapped in a fallen tree branch. The Allfather had to have been watching over him for the branch had stopped him from drowning. Pausing only to lay down his weapons Felix leapt into the water to join the dog which was tugging at Rufius’ free arm. Felix reached the unconscious Roman and put his hand to his throat. There was a pulse. Against the odds the decurion was alive.
The water was icy and Rufius knew he had little time to waste if he was to save the life of the decurion. He swam behind the Roman and supported his body with his left arm. He unhooked the right arm from the branch and then swam backwards across the eddy pool. Wolf tugged on the free arm. When Felix’s feet found purchase on the bottom he stood and dragged the Roman from the water.
He laid him on his side and made sure that he was breathing. He said to Wolf, “Stay! Protect!” The dog lay over the prostrate body of Rufius and Felix left. No one would touch the Roman now.
He ran back up the trail and clambered up the tree to retrieve the cloak. He dropped it on the bank and then jumped from rock to rock until he reached the horse. The animal’s dead eyes seemed to stare at the water. Felix loosened the leather straps holding the blanket to the saddle. He stuffed the leather straps into his tunic and carried the precious blanket to safety. He had contempl
ated removing the sheepskin from beneath the dead horse but he knew that would be too great a task. He ran back to the decurion who lay where Felix had left him. The cloak was almost dry and Felix spread it over the Roman. He hung the blanket to dry. He took his leather satchel from his shoulder. He examined the food they had left. There were a few pieces of dried meat and four apples. His water skin was still full but the river could be used for drink before they left this place.
He examined the decurion for a wound. He saw a gash on the Roman’s forehead. The water had washed it clean and there appeared to be no bleeding. He could not see bone. It looked as though he had just suffered a shallow cut. He would leave that alone. How would he get the unconscious Roman back to Drugi? He could walk it in a day but not carrying the decurion. He spied some ash saplings. Taking his knife he cut four of them. Using the blanket and the leather straps he fashioned a stretcher. He laid it next to the Roman and carefully rolled him onto it ensuring that he lay face down. Then he stood between the shafts and lifted. He held the weight. Pointing down the trail he said, “Scout!” The dog ran off and Felix began to walk down the trail running alongside the river. He was fortunate that the first part was smooth and a little downhill. He soon got into a rhythm. He counted each step to help him gauge the distance. When he reached a thousand he stopped and lowered his burden. His shoulders burned with the effort.
He whistled for Wolf. The loyal sheepdog appeared instantly next to him. He broke off a piece of dried meat and gave it to the dog. He put another piece in his mouth and sucked on it. It would put off the hunger pangs. He had to keep enough food for the Roman. When the dog had eaten it ran to the river and gulped down the water. Felix pointed back up the trail and said, “Scout!”
The dog ran off. Felix did not think that they were being pursued but it paid to be careful. When his shoulders no longer burned he whistled and Wolf appeared. He shouldered his burden and they began their march again. Felix had counted a thousand five times by the time the sun was high in the sky and Felix was suffering. He decided to take a longer break. He found an overhanging tree and dragged the decurion there. After checking that he was still breathing he drank the contents of the water skin and went to the river to refill it. He had just turned when he saw the three magpies suddenly take flight. He had seen them four hundred steps along the trail and they had done the same when he had passed. There were humans somewhere along the trail. They would be Brigante and they would be hunting him.
He ran back to the decurion and picked up his bow and quiver. “Stay! Guard!”
He was glad that he had taken the Roman away from the river. He made his way silently through the undergrowth. He could now smell the Brigante. He halted and he heard them. There appeared to be three of them. He saw an old gnarled oak with a climbable branch and he swiftly ascended so that he could look down on the path. He still could not see them but he could hear them.
“I still don’t know what is making these two lines on the trail.”
“Neither do I but they make tracking easier. That Roman was right. There were at least two of them.”
Felix cursed his mistake. He should have travelled over the rocks where he would not have left a trail. Notching an arrow he sighted along the path. He held another arrow in his teeth and a third in his left hand. The three men were staring down at the trail and ahead. They were not looking up. He allowed the first two to pass and then let his arrow fly into the throat of the third warrior who was but twenty paces from him. He notched and loosed a second arrow at the middle Brigante who turned when he heard the body strike the ground. He died instantly. The last warrior had a shield and he turned with it held up to protect him from the hidden bowman. Felix’s arrow thudded into the shield. As Felix drew another arrow the Brigante raced towards Felix. He almost flew over the ground. Felix was only saved by the fact that his branch was higher than the man and he was able to notch and loose quicker than any man alive. The warrior was so close that the arrow struck his forehead and half of its length emerged from the back of his skull.
He jumped down and examined their bodies. These were poor warriors and had little of value. He took the two best knives and threw the other weapons in the river. Although he knew it would be better if he got rid of the bodies he was racing against time. These three would be missed and there might be other searchers too. He ran back to the decurion. Wolf still guarded his unconscious body.
He picked up his burden again and looked for a path which would not be seen by trackers. He headed towards the river. There was a rock shelf just below the surface and he stepped into the icy waters. As the stretcher bumped down Felix heard a grunt and a moan. He turned his head and saw the decurion staring up at him.
“What happened, Felix?”
“The Allfather was not ready for you. You banged your head and a dead branch saved you.” He smiled, “Wolf helped too.”
“Here help me up.”
Felix gave his arm to the decurion who stood, somewhat awkwardly. Felix looked down the trail apologetically. “Please Decurion, we must hurry. I killed three trackers up the path. There may be more.”
“Right. Cut one of these saplings for a staff.” He grabbed the water skin and drank. Felix handed him the staff and rolled up the blanket. He tied it about his body and then offered some dried meat. “No thanks. It was just the water I needed. Lead on.”
Felix and Wolf left the path and headed first along the shelf beneath the river for forty paces. Then he led them across stones into the undergrowth. Now that the decurion could walk Felix could find a way to avoid their pursuers.
As he led the injured Roman he kept glancing back to see if he was coping with the journey. He appeared to be but Felix was not the healer that both Ailis and Drugi were. He was tempted to find a village and ask for help but he was an astute youth and knew that he could trust no one this close to the Brigante camp.
Rufius was feeling the effects of the fall. He vaguely remembered striking the rump of his horse before hitting the water. Felix was right; the Allfather had saved him. He had sacrificed the horse for the rider. When he had time Rufius would make an offering. He was determined to keep up with the Brigante scout despite the buzzing in his head and his desire for sleep.
Once again Felix took them for five thousand steps before he halted. He forced the decurion to drink and to chew some dried meat. “You will need the food inside you.” He looked to the west. “There is a village close to the river and on a cliff. I think we should avoid it.”
Rufius nodded, “You are in charge.”
“It will mean a longer journey and we will not reach the farm before dark.”
Rufius was suddenly aware that they had crossed the river. When he had woken it had been on his right. “But we can reach Morbium and that is as good.”
Felix smiled for the first time since the fall. “Then the gods do smile on us. Wolf, scout!”
Severus and Briac stared at the three bodies. There was an accusatory tone in Severus’ voice. “Had your men searched the land below the falls rather than returning to the camp to gloat these men might be alive and we would have prisoners to interrogate.”
“Who knew that someone could escape that fall? I still cannot believe it.”
Severus waved his hand at the three bodies. “Tell that to these men.”
“We can still catch them.”
“How? The trail stops just ahead and they could be anywhere. No, Chief Briac we have to assume that they have escaped and they are either Romans or Roman spies. Either way we will have to send the men back to their farms.”
“But the training?”
“The training is almost done and we need secrecy. Send your men back and tell them to hide their weapons. You and your oathsworn will come with me to Manavia.”
“You are giving commands now?”
The Roman shrugged, “No, merely suggestions, but if you stay I expect to see your crucified body when I next return. They will know your name. They will know the number
s of warriors.”
“But they only know of those at the camp and not the others.”
Severus sighed with impatience. The man was a fool. “They will send soldiers as soon as they can and they will come here. They will search until they find you. If you are in Manavia for the winter then you cannot be found.”
Briac was convinced. “We can still win?”
Severus grinned, “Oh we can still win. Had we not found these bodies and assumed the Romans were dead then we would have lost but the gods are helping us. We will win.”
The centurion on duty at Morbium recognised Rufius. The lateness of the hour had made him suspicious. He admitted them both. The capsarius looked at Rufius while he hurriedly wrote a message for the commander at Eboracum. “Have you a spare horse?”
The centurion shook his head, “They decided we did not need any despatch riders. Your message will have to go by foot.”
Rufius shook his head and regretted it immediately, “No, this is urgent. Felix, go to Ailis’ farm. Bring my horse, one for you and a third one for the fort. Warn Ailis and Drugi of the danger they are in.”
As Felix ran across the bridge over the Dunum with Wolf scouting ahead the centurion asked, “Are you sure about this threat?”
Rufius said, bluntly, “Centurion last night I saw over a thousand Brigante armed with new weapons and wearing mail, they were training for war and they were being advised by a Roman. They were just twenty miles from here. So, what do you think of the threat?”