by Griff Hosker
They made better time than when Rufius had travelled with the merchants and they approached the town in late afternoon. As he had expected the gates were closed on their approach. Leaving the chosen men with the turmae, Marcus and Rufius rode up to the gates. The rain had abated somewhat and the hood was safely stowed.
Angus appeared on the gate and shouted, belligerently, “This is Votadini land. What are Romans doing here?”
Rufius took off his helmet and proffered the thistle token. “The last time I came here I came as a friend.”
“You! Then you came under false pretences.”
“No, I did not. I do trade in jet.”
“And why are you here then. You are trading war now!”
Rufius shook his head. “No, we are not. Rome conquered all of this land in the time of Agricola. The rebellion of Lugubelenus does not change that. Rome is a forgiving mother. When I told my superiors of the bandits my Legate asked me to patrol the old Roman Road to Alavna for the protection of all. You have my word that we will not impose our will upon you. The wall is there as a frontier only. It is not a threat.”
Angus seemed somewhat mollified but he added, “We will judge you when you return. If there are heads upon your saddles and slaves in your wake then we will know that you lie.”
Rufius nodded, “Thank you, headman.” They led the column north.
Marcus looked back, “That was quick thinking back there.”
“You were an Explorate too. You know that it is always wise to have a story ready to hand.” He waved Felix forward. “Felix we will head towards Alavna. It is some miles to the north east. See if it is safe.”
Felix slipped his leg over the saddle and took off with Wolf like a startled hare. Marcus shook his head, “Why he prefers his own legs to a horse I will never know. Titus, come and get Felix’s mount.”
Alavna was on the Roman Road proper but it had long been abandoned. The Roman auxiliaries who had built and defended these forts now huddled in their mile castles on the wall. Whilst the defences had been rendered useless by the soldiers before they left, they would, at least, afford some shelter.
It was dark when they reached the fort. The glow of light showed them that Felix had examined the area and found it free from danger. There would be the possibility of hot food.
As they sat around the fires, drying out their cloaks and warming themselves, Marcus asked Rufius of their plan of action.
“We will head for the oppidum I found. We should reach it before dark and it will give us the opportunity to observe Mercaut. The headman may have sent word north about our presence and we will need to be careful.”
Banquo and his twenty oathsworn were heading in the opposite direction to the Romans. He and his men were approaching the island. Banquo had not prepared well enough and the causeway was under water when they arrived. His first quest as a leader was not going well and they were forced to camp in the dunes. It was a cold and cheerless night. It did nothing to improve the young man’s humour. He had forgotten about the tides.
The oathsworn of Banquo were all young men like himself. They styled themselves The Bears. Banquo had managed to get a set of bear claws and he wore them around his neck. He had not killed a bear but he had traded for them. All of them dreamt of hunting and then killing a bear. When they ate of its heart then its power would devolve to them. They would become warriors who could not be defeated. They wore painted markings upon their faces and they had the sign of the bear tattooed on their chests. They looked fierce and that was their intention. They were, however, not blooded. When Ardal had fought for the land Banquo had been with the rearguard and they were not needed. He had hoped to find action against the Venicones but they had proved reluctant to fight. He and his oathsworn were frustrated. They were desperate for the chance to prove their courage.
As Banquo looked across the water he realised that this would not be a chance for glory but it would be an opportunity to show his men that he had power and he knew how to use it. It would be a chance for his men to flex their muscles. Ban still had warriors. They might be old but they would have to do. The Romans were too far away to fight.
Mavourna had seen the Votadini warriors arrive. Since the visit of the Atrebate she had taken to staring west in case he came again. There had been something in his eyes and his voice which she found appealing. When, however, she saw the warriors she became worried. There were too many for a social visit and they looked to be armed for war. The fact that they were all mounted told her much. She hurried to her father to tell him.
Her father was a deep man and a religious man. He had toyed with the idea of becoming a priest when he was younger for he had the ability to see into the future. His own father’s death had put that idea from his mind but he still retained the ability to see beyond the obvious.
“This is the doing of my nephew, Ardal.”
“How can you be sure? This did not look like a royal retinue.”
Ban smiled at his daughter whom he loved dearly. She was the only child who had lived beyond childhood. When Ban went to the Otherworld his name would die unless she had issue. He did not fear his own death but he feared for his daughter and his line. “This may not be Ardal but it may well be someone sent on his behalf. You should leave. Take the boat and sail to the oppidum. You will be safe there. Go with the slave women.”
She stood defiantly. “No! I will not! My place is at your side. Besides if this is an attack of some kind then you will need all the men you can muster.”
They both knew, however, that the ten men who lived on the island were almost as old as Ban. Their days of defending the land were long gone. “In that case, we will let the seas and the lands defend us. Gather all the food and take it into the fort. We will wait out the storm.”
That evening every animal and scrap of food was taken inside and as much water as they could collect was stored. There was no water on the island but they had huge stone tanks which collected the rainwater. If this had been summer then they might have been in danger of running out but at this time of year they had a surplus.
Finally Ban issued all the weapons he had. He looked sadly at them. They were all old and had seen better days. If this came to a fight then it would not be a long one but whoever came would know that they had fought a warrior and his friends.
When dawn came the tide was in once more. Banquo had missed his opportunity during the night. They had sat up until late drinking and had not set guards. He and his men had slept when they could have walked across the causeway. He rode to the edge of the sea and shouted across to the island. No-one was close and he could see figures standing behind the wooden walls. No one acknowledged him. It was frustrating. It was as though the sea was fighting him too. He wondered if he ought to have brought a slave to sacrifice; perhaps that would have turned the tide.
Inside the walls Mavourna recognised Banquo. He had been a nasty youth who had made a futile attempt to take her virginity when she was barely twelve summers old. She had never told her father but she was sure that her cousin still bore the marks of her nails. She told Ban what she had seen. His eyes could not see that far. “Then he has been sent by his brother. He is a young fool. We will see if he can shift us.”
As the tide peaked so Banquo prepared his men. “We will give them the chance to allow us to enter the fort but if they resist then we will slaughter them all. The girl is not to be harmed. She is mine.”
Even though his men knew the restrictions placed upon him by his brother they were oathsworn. Banquo would lead them to glory and they would do all that he asked.
Chapter 10
The two turmae reached the oppidum in the early afternoon. Whilst Felix and Wolf hunted, Marcus and Rufius climbed the tower. Rufius was just pointing out the island when he spotted the warriors. He frowned as he turned to Marcus. “I like this not. Leave your Chosen Man with your turma. They should prepare the defences of the oppidum.”
“But Livius said that we were not to engage in
warfare.”
Rufius’ eyes narrowed. I am the senior decurion and it is my responsibility.” He softened his tone with a smile. “I have a feeling that we are doing the right thing. You can stay here with your men if you wish. I will understand.”
Marcus nodded. “I will stand by you, Rufius, for I believe that you are doing the right thing too. We will face the Prefect’s wrath together.” He mounted his horse. “Gnaeus, we will ride to the aid of the island. Make the oppidum defensible.”
“What if you do not return?”
Marcus smiled, “Then you will get a rapid promotion!”
Now that he was close to the island Banquo decided to wait until the causeway was shallow enough for them to cross. The water was a little rougher than he would have liked and, besides, his uncle and the bitch were going nowhere. When he could clearly see the rocks beneath the surface he led his men across the causeway to the island. They had to wade through the surf in places. As they approached the fort he could see that his uncle had armed his men. Had he had a warning of their visit?
He halted out of bow range. He did not know if they had such weapons but he was not willing to take a chance. He removed his helmet so that his uncle could see him.
“Uncle, it is your nephew Prince Banquo. This is not the welcome I expected.”
He heard Ban’s laugh. “So you bring armed men to my home and expect a welcome. Be gone, whelp!”
“I can see how you are afraid of my men but we come in peace.”
“Listen, puppy prince, I fear neither you nor those tattooed dogs with you. Say what you will and be gone.”
A murmur of discontent arose from the oathsworn who did not like the way their leader was being spoken to. “I do not like your tone, uncle, and I will speak plainly. My brother has sent me here to demand that you swear allegiance to him and to me.” Banquo knew that the last part was not his brother’s words but he wanted the old man humiliating.
The answer came with a spear hurled by Ban. It struck Calum who was next to Banquo. The young warrior was hurled from his pony and died with a surprised expression on his face.
“There is my answer!”
“You will all die and that bitch of a cousin will beg for death before I have finished with her.” He began to turn. The turn saved his life for Mavourna used her slingshot to send a large pebble in the direction of her cousin. It struck his pony rather than him. The animal reared and threw Banquo to the ground. He heard the laughter from the walls as he struggled to his feet.
His face was infused with embarrassment and anger. “No prisoners!”
Rufius led the troopers along the sand dunes. It meant he was hidden from view. He had no idea what was going on but the armed men had him worried. They could be Selgovae. He was not so arrogant as to believe that a word from him would stop Selgovae bandits. He had stopped one band only.
As he approached the island he slowed the troopers down and then led them to the top of the dune. He could see that the warriors were indeed attacking the fort. He could see at least one warrior lying on the ground. The attackers had dismounted and were now surrounding the fort. Rufius had seen the defenders and knew that they were not enough to defend all of the walls. Their defences would soon be breached.
He turned to the troopers. “This is an island. We have one chance to get across and help the people on the island. We ride as fast as we can before the tide comes in. I know not who those attackers are but we will destroy them.” He raised his spear. “Marcus’ Horse!”
The turma roared their war cry and galloped as fast as they could behind the two decurions. It was a reckless ride through the surf but each trooper was a master of his mount.
Banquo and his men had already sent arrows and javelins over the walls. Three defenders had fallen. Banquo thought that one of them was Ban. His attackers had not escaped unscathed. A second warrior had died and two more had been stunned by his cousin’s sling. He was confident that they would take this place and then he would have it as his own. It would be called Din Banquo!
Marcus had not used one of the spears before but Livius and Metellus were keen for them to be the weapon of choice for the ala. In his heart Marcus would rather have used the Sword of Cartimandua but, as they raced across the flat land he could see the advantage. It extended his reach by half the length of his horse. He leaned forward with it as he pointed Raven at the warrior who was aiming a bow at the wooden tower. He pulled his arm back and then punched forward. Even as the tip speared the man in the back Marcus twisted and pulled so that the lifeless body fell to the ground and the weapon was ready once more.
The screams of the dying alerted Banquo to the fact that his men were being attacked. As he turned he saw, to his horror, that Roman cavalry were amongst his men and they were being slaughtered. He was pragmatic. He did not mind dying in battle but he wanted it to be seen by others. He yelled, “Bears! Fall back to the horses!”
Rufius and the others were already trying to turn. Marcus spun Raven around. A warrior’s face appeared before him and Marcus whipped the spear across his face. He saw the edge rip a jagged line across the bearded warrior’s forehead and then he was gone. He urged Raven on. The men on foot were fast. They reached their nimble ponies and then leapt into the waters which had risen alarmingly since the Romans had crossed.
Banquo and the handful of survivors plunged into the choppy grey water. If they crossed the causeway they might die. If they stayed on the island they would die.
Marcus reined in as he saw two ponies and their riders swept to their deaths. The other eight struggled as they half swam and half walked back to the mainland. Rufius halted next to Marcus. Marcus dug his spear into the ground to lean the blood. “It seems we are trapped here for the night.”
“We are. Organise the men and I will go and speak with Ban.”
Although they were not his turma the troopers were all known to Marcus. He dismounted and led Raven back towards the walls. Trooper Lepidus shouted, “Looks like you don’t need your sword now sir. The spears are lethal.”
He grinned, “Yes but I will not relinquish my blade just yet.”
The wounded Votadini were despatched and the capsarius, Trooper Carpal, dealt with the few wounds suffered by the turma. He waved over Rufius’ Chosen Man, “Better make a camp and get some food on the go. We will be stuck here for the night.”
“But we left the food in the oppidum!”
“Then you had better forage or we will starve.” He smiled, “We can always eat seaweed!”
“Very funny sir, I bet your lads love your sense of humour.”
He put the spear into its leather bindings to free up his hand and walked over to the track leading to the gate. Rufius turned as he approached; he had taken off his helmet and was scratching his scalp. “I am not certain how many are left alive up there. I have shouted but no one has answered.”
Just then Mavourna’s face appeared and she looked distressed. When she recognised Rufius she looked surprised, “You I...” then she seemed to remember something more important. “My father is wounded.”
“Capsarius! Follow me.”
The three Romans entered through the gate. As they ran they saw that there were six bodies lying on the ground. The girl shouted, harshly, “They are dead but my father lives.”
A wounded warrior was cradling the old man’s head. It was a stomach wound. The capsarius glanced at Rufius and shook his head. “Now then sir, let us look at this.”
The old man opened his eyes and smiled; a tendril of blood seeped out of the corner of his mouth. “I am for the Otherworld. See to my men they fought bravely.”
The capsarius nodded, “You are a brave warrior. May the Allfather be with you.” He turned his attentions to the warrior with the wounded arm.
The girl gave a slight sob and the wounded warrior placed her arm under her father’s head. “It will comfort him child.”
Ban looked up at Rufius. “I knew you were no jet merchant. You were not greedy enough
. My daughter tells me you drove away the perfidious Banquo.” Rufius nodded. “I am in your debt. Please care for my daughter. She is alone and she likes you.”
“Father!”
“It is true and a dying man does not lie.”
“I will.” Rufius hesitated.
“Go on man. I cannot last much longer ask your question and be done with it.”
Rufius took the ring from his tunic. “I believe this will allow me to have the box that King Prasutagus gave to your father for safekeeping.”
Ban’s eyes widened. “I knew the gods had kept me alive for a reason.” His thin fingers grabbed hold of Rufius. “Promise me that you will care for Mavourna and I shall tell you all.”
“I promised already but if you wish a sacred oath then I will give one. I swear to protect Mavourna with my life for as long as she needs my protection.”
He sank back, seemingly satisfied. He spoke without opening his eyes, “The chest is hidden beneath my bed. There is the mark of a boar upon it.” He winced and said, “I go to the…”
There was a last dying breath and he was gone. His daughter began to sob. The three soldiers and the warrior watched sadly. Rufius put his arm around her shoulders and raised her to her feet. She wiped the tears from her eyes. “You do not need to protect me, Roman, I absolve you of your oath. I can fend for myself.”
Rufius smiled, “But I cannot absolve myself of my oath nor would I wish to. You shall come with me and I will look after you south of the wall.”
She pulled away. “You want me to leave my home!”
The warrior’s arm had been bandaged, “He is right my lady. You cannot stay here. Banquo will come back with more men.”
She looked at the greybeard. “But what of you and the others?”
“We will follow you,” he gave a wry smile and a shrug. “There are but four of us who remain and we will soon be following your father. While we live we will serve him.” He looked up at Rufius. “We cannot bury him, Banquo will despoil his body.”