Conscience of the King

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Conscience of the King Page 9

by Alfred Duggan


  Our land is a natural unit, with the Forest to the north and the Channel on the south, but that does not really make it easier to defend; the frontier is too long, and there are no natural defiles; raiders can appear anywhere at very short notice. The best we could do was to hold the two strong fortresses of Noviomagus and Anderida with well-equipped garrisons of elderly men, and prepare a mobile force, mounted on ponies, to engage the plunderers in the open country. I wanted to get out the war-boat, but here I came up against the evil effects of the slanders spread by Maximus. My father had evidently made up his mind that I was not to have an independent command; I was told that commissioning the war-boat would mean a wasteful dispersion of our scanty forces, and that the Bishop would be insulted if he was not put in command of the garrison of Noviomagus, my second choice. In short, I was to be second-in-command of the comitatus, under my brother Constans.

  Naturally, my father commanded the permanent garrison of Anderida, where we were stationed when there were no raiders to chase, and old Maximus also lived there and drilled the troops; so I found myself with three superior officers at home, and at least one when we took the field. The whole arrangement was a calculated insult, and it quite killed any lingering piety I might still feel towards my family.

  In the spring of 474, when I was in my twenty-third year, the raids started again. The barbarians had not assembled a large army for further conquests, and I believe Hengist stayed quietly in Kent, where he could live much more luxuriously than he had been accustomed to in Germany. But there were always small bands of hungry and desperate men who came across the sea, refitted in the barbarian Kingdom, and then wandered off to look for the nearest well-fed Romans. As they were extremely poor they did a great deal of harm; they would cut the throats of a whole family for a clay pot or a pair of shoes. I have often thought how much luckier than Britain was Gaul, for there the barbarians were willing to take tribute. Our plunderers were too uncivilized even to have organized a proper slave-market, and killed strong workmen or pretty girls as ruthlessly as infants and old people.

  Still, it is astonishing what one can get used to. As the days lengthened we settled down into a routine; the coloni were thin on the ground, but the survivors furbished up the old pre-Roman forts on the hill-tops, and retired to them at the slightest alarm; when things were quiet they came down to cultivate their fields. We had arranged a system of smoke-signals, and the horsemen of the comitatus soon got on the tails of the raiders, who came on foot through the tangled brushwood of the Forest. Oddly enough, though we had a long and undefended coast we were not much troubled by pirates from the sea; when Saxons make the effort to fit out a ship, which is a complicated business for such utter savages, they usually make a considerable voyage; those we saw sailing down the Channel were generally on their way to Gaul or Dumnonia. On these occasions we always passed on smoke-signals to the west, by the terms of our treaty with King Valerian.

  On the whole, we were prickly customers to raid, and yielded little profit in return for plenty of hard knocks; but there must be a great deal of fighting in this narrative, and I will not weary you with all the skirmishes of that summer.

  In the early autumn came the great crisis of my life. One afternoon towards the end of August I was sitting in the courtyard behind my father’s house, basking in the sun and reading the poems of Ovid (now I come to think of it, that was the last occasion on which I read a book). Constans sat opposite me, glueing the feathers on a new batch of hunting-arrows, and I was trying to make up my mind whether I should leave my sunny corner to get away from the smell of his glue, when one of the servants put her head round the door to say that the sentry on the town-wall had seen smoke-signals in the west. We both cursed, for it was pleasant in the sunshine, but the message could not be disregarded, and we strolled over to the sentry’s tower. The man reported that the signal was two uninterrupted columns side by side, which meant that it was repeated from farther west; so there was no immediate hurry, but we had better get moving before dark. The horn was blown, and Constans went to my father to decide what force we should take. It would never do to leave the eastern end of the country unguarded, because of a distant alarm from the west.

  After a leisurely preparation we set out in the evening, with about sixty of the younger men of the comitatus; we were mounted on comfortable fast ponies, that would bring us fresh to the battle, but of course we all intended to fight on foot. The evening was still light enough to make the smoke-signals visible, and the track to the westward was good enough to ride on in the dark.

  We rode gently all night without a pause, and in the morning saw the signal repeated from the hill above Noviomagus, which meant that the raiders must be still farther to the west, beyond the limits of the Kingdom. We reached the city about midday, and the Bishop sent to round up fresh horses while we ate our dinner. We were very sleepy after our all-night ride, but Constans decided to push on a little farther that afternoon, and get more definite information. The Bishop could tell us nothing, he had only repeated signals from farther west.

  We turned slightly north, and rode gently between the Forest and the sea, which here runs northward into the land for a considerable distance. This country is nearly deserted, but a few peasants till the scattered fields, in terror of pirates but attracted by the absence of taxation. We made camp in the early afternoon, for we were too sleepy to go any farther, and built a large and smoky fire of damp wood; we used a blanket to send out separate puffs, telling any messengers from Dumnonia that there were Christian soldiers in the field.

  At nightfall the expected messenger rode into camp, and the news he brought was exciting. A small party of Saxons, not more than twenty men, had surprised the newly refounded town of Sorbiodunum, raided the church and the tax office, and got clean away before the comrades in the town could assemble to attack them. Sorbiodunum was a new and rather too optimistic experiment on the part of King Valerian; it was an old Roman city that had lain desolate for at least twenty years, until the King had resettled it two years ago. That was when Count Ambrosius was still victorious, and we all hoped that the plunderers would be finally expelled from Britain. The church commemorated certain very holy martyrs from the days of the Emperor Diocletian, and the King had furnished it with magnificent golden vessels. The raiders must have received information from some discharged mercenary, for they had made straight for the treasure, and then escaped at once over the wall; unless they were suitably dealt with it would be a great blow to the whole Church of Britain, and might lead to a fresh abandonment of the city.

  The raiders had two days’start, but if they had come through the Forest they would probably be on foot, and were very likely camped somewhere due north of us at the present moment. We needed rest, and it was useless to go blundering after them in the dark; but after a few hours’sleep we set out at first light, riding north in a widespread, scattered line, and searching the ground for tracks. At mid-morning, when we were already deep in the Forest, Constans was hailed by a voice from the tree-tops. It was a Dumnonian scout, a devout man who had braved the hostile ghosts of the woodland to keep the raiders under observation; he reported that he had seen the Saxons camp for the night, and had climbed a tree for safety; he pointed out the track they had left, easy to follow in the thick carpet of dead leaves.

  Constans decided to follow the trail of the raiders; of course they would be expecting pursuit from the rear, and would probably leave scouts behind them; but they had cut back the bush and overhanging branches, we could follow fast, and we outnumbered them three to one. He gave orders that we should keep to the track, on foot, and each man was to make the best pace he could; but the ten slowest comrades should each lead a pony in the rear, to take up the pursuit if the barbarians made for open country. This was a risky plan, since we might be so scattered that we could be defeated in detail, but the treasure was worth a risk.

  It was a long, hard chase. But I had made a much worse journey last year, and I set a pace that qu
ickly brought me to the front; Constans kept up with me, though he was not accustomed to the Forest, as I was; I suppose it was the responsibility of leadership that, as usual, gave him the strength and determination to do better than the others.

  The enemy had a good three hours’start, but they did not know that they were pursued, and they had all the trouble of cutting a path, while we followed a clear trail; we did not halt for a meal at midday, and I expect they did. Anyway, when the sun was shining through the lower branches of the trees, and we had covered a great many miles, Constans and I saw at the other end of a little glade the first of the scouts they had left to watch their track. He was just on the point of moving off to overtake his companions, but he saw us as soon as we saw him, and blew a warning on the little ram’s-horn that these raiders carry; it roused our men as well as the enemy, and we all broke into a tired and stumbling trot.

  Now the pursuit became really exhausting and unpleasant. My Saxon weapons were lighter and easier to carry than the Roman arms of my comrades, and I could easily have outdistanced them all; but I did not want to tackle twenty raiders single-handed, and I took care not to get too far in front. Soon we could hear the noise of the enemy as they crashed through the woods; they were no longer cutting a straight track eastward to their homes in Kent, but turning in an aimless sort of way from one open glade to another, wherever the ground was best for speedy retreat.

  As we did not keep in a straight line some of the comrades at the heel of the hunt were able to cut corners and catch up with those in front; there were eight of us together in a bunch when we came up with the first barbarian. He had twisted his foot on the broken ground and his companions had left him to face certain death alone, which showed that they were most comfortingly frightened of us. He did not detain us long, but now we proceeded with more caution, for at any moment the rest of the gang might decide to stand and fight it out. The sun was setting, and if we did not catch them soon they might escape us altogether, but I suppose their nerve gave way and they wanted to get it over (I have sometimes had the same feeling myself, though I have always fought it down successfully). In another little glade we found them all standing back to back in a cluster. Even now they had not steeled themselves for one last good fight; as we formed our ranks to approach, the whole group suddenly broke up, and each man ran off by himself into the bushes. We scattered in pursuit.

  I marked down the man I meant to catch. He wore a blue tunic, while most of the others were half-naked; better still, he was on the portly side, and would not give me a long chase. I soon found out that I had chosen rightly, for he was badly frightened and out of breath, and his panic made him run through the thickest patches of thorn, where I could follow him by the gaps he had broken. We had not gone a mile when I was so close that I tried a slash with my sword; it did not reach him, but he must have seen it out of the corner of his eye. These barbarians hate to be cut down from behind, for they think that the wound will show on their spirits in the next life and brand them as cowards to all eternity; he jumped to one side, and faced me with his sword out. It did not take me long to deal with him, particularly as his little round shield seemed to be too heavy for his arm, and he was very clumsy in parrying. When he was down I cut his throat with my seaxknife, and began to examine the body.

  He wore a pouch attached to his waist-belt, but it contained nothing except some fragments of biscuit and half a dozen tiny silver coins; it appeared that I had not been so lucky as I had hoped. Then I examined his shield, and I had an astounding surprise; attached to the handgrip inside was a leather bag as big as my two fists, and in it a massive golden cup. This must be the famous Chalice of Sorbiodunum, the chief object of the raid. If I could keep possession of it I would be one of the richest men in Britain. I fixed it inside my shield, which I then slung on my back; it gave me rather a hump-backed appearance, but I might be able to cover that by walking bent over, as though very tired.

  It was easy to follow my track back to the glade where we had separated; I walked slowly, trying frantically to make plans for the future. If I could only turn this great golden object into silver coins I would have more than enough to buy myself a following among the comrades, and I should soon be King of the Regni. But where to find a buyer with the necessary ready money? And how could I keep my prize a secret from my companions?

  I had not gone far when I heard someone crashing through the bushes on my left, and I loosened my sword in its scabbard, in case it was a survivor of the Saxon band. But unfortunately it was my brother Constans. He fell in behind me on the trail, though I waited politely for the King’s heir to go in front. Almost at once he spoke:

  ‘What’s that on your back, under your shield?’ he called out. ‘Trust Coroticus to find the richest plunder. If it’s anything to eat we ought to share it with the others.’

  ‘It isn’t anything to eat, Captain. Just a bit of Saxon equipment that would be no use to a Roman soldier, which I would like to keep for myself.’

  ‘For Heaven’s sake don’t call me captain when we are by ourselves. I know you only do it to annoy, and to show that you are obeying my orders against your better judgment.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Constans,’ I said quickly, delighted that I had led his attention away from the dangerous subject. ‘You are my commander, and my future King, and it is well that we should both remember it.’

  My unlucky brother was not a fool, but he had a slow, tenacious mind, not easily diverted from the matter in hand. Also he was very hungry, and he knew that I often kept back food for myself. He returned to the charge:

  ‘I still want to see what is in that package. Do you think I didn’t notice those sausages you slipped into your pouch at Noviomagus? Then we all had enough to eat, so I didn’t mind; but now it will cause a great deal of ill feeling in the ranks if you keep a good supper to yourself.’

  ‘For the last time, dear brother, this package does not contain food. It is plunder that I won in single combat, and by the laws of war it is now my private property. I must obey your commands, but I would be much happier if you didn’t order me to show it.’

  Any fair-minded reader will see how anxious I was to spare my brother’s life, but he was determined to run upon his doom; he caught hold of the shield-strap, and lifted off over my head shield and bundle together. When he opened the leather bag he gave a gasp of surprise.

  ‘Merciful God! The Chalice of Sorbiodunum! Look here, you can’t possibly keep this to yourself, and I don’t think it can even remain in the Kingdom of the Regni. Every Bishop in Britain would put us to the ban for detaining church property. Father shall decide as soon as we get home, but I think we must return it where it came from.’

  ‘Very well, my dear brother, you had better keep it now. But it is a beautiful thing, isn’t it? Just let me feel its weight in my hand once again.’ I put my right hand out for the package, and as his arm came forward to pass it over I slipped the little seax-knife in my left hand into his armpit; he staggered wildly, and I stabbed him again in the big vein of the neck.

  But I have often observed that the depths of a wood is not a good place to transact private business; you always think you are alone, and someone always sees you. In this case my brother was still groaning when I heard the rending of branches, and there was old Conan, with his eyes blazing and his sword out. I dashed away down the track I had come by.

  I was very tired, but the rest of the comitatus would be just as exhausted, and my Saxon equipment should give me an advantage over men in cuirasses carrying large square shields. I did not fear that I would be overtaken so long as I stuck to the woodland where ponies could not follow. I kept moving until it was fully dark, then climbed a tree and slept among the branches.

  3.

  474–476

  Exile in Kent – Misfortunes of Gertrude

  – My Marriage in Germany

  I awoke feeling stiff, but still good for a long journey. I ate the grubby biscuit from the dead Saxon’s pouch, and presently
found a stream of water. Then I sat down to make plans. The land of the Regni was barred to me, and if I went to Dumnonia I would have to give back my Chalice; evidently I must make my way north, beyond the Forest. There were plenty of Roman Kingdoms north of the Thames and in the western parts of Britain, and their Kings would welcome a good warrior. But they would soon learn why I was an exile, and conventional public opinion is strongly against fratricide; the Kings themselves would think I had set a bad example by killing the heir to a throne, though as a rule they were pretty broadminded about the past lives of their comrades. It looked as though I would never be at ease among Romans for the rest of my life.

  Then I had an inspiration. Why not try the Saxons? They would never learn of anything that had happened in Roman Britain, for there was no intercourse between such deadly enemies; I spoke German perfectly, and carried German arms; they were always eager for new recruits, and probably asked no questions. The more I thought of it the more it attracted me, and suddenly I remembered a clinching argument. I was Woden-born, and knew my pedigree; I would not only be rich, but one of their noblemen as well.

  My mind made up, I set off northwards as fast as my stiff legs could carry me. It was unlikely that the Regnians would keep up the hunt for long, and they would certainly never dare to follow me into Kent, but the sooner I got clear of the Forest the better. I did not know exactly where I was, but if I kept the midday sun at my back I would probably come out among the Saxon farms. Then I could pretend to be a returning raider.

  On the morning of the third day I emerged from the Forest, to find myself in the wasted borderlands. This was rather a nuisance as I was very hungry; luckily I came across a stream, and making a line from the linen of my shirt and a hook from a brooch, I caught three trout, and ate a good dinner. I have made it a rule never to leave my house without the means of making fire, in case of sudden turns of fortune; I broiled the fish on a stick.

 

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