by Griff Hosker
“That means they may all have retreated back to their homelands.”
Ulpius shook his head. “There will not be many but they will be out here. There are outlaws and bandits who will take advantage of the chaos that we have made. There will be survivors who are mounted and there will be others, scavengers, looking for easy pickings. Remember Marcus there are ordinary people of this land who go about their lives and they will now be gathering in as much food as they can to survive the winter. They not have the luxury of galleys from Rome bringing grain and wine as we do.” He paused as his good eye picked out movement in the distance. His hand came up instinctively to halt the column and they, in turn, loosened their weapons and became more alert. Everyone relaxed slightly when they realised it was their two scouts who had been more than five miles ahead.
The two men reined in and saluted. “Just ahead decurion princeps, there are raiders. They are driving animals north to the river. They are twenty in number.”
Ulpius nodded. Twenty was manageable and the animals would augment their rations. He turned to his troop. “We are going to capture some of the brigands who killed our comrades. If we can I would like at least one prisoner but take no chances. These are like snakes.” He addressed Marcus. “Take twenty men and the scouts sweep round the north. If any escape us you will take them.” Marcus marked off his men and they rode at a fast gallop. Ulpius signalled for his men to spread into line formation; dangerous against formed infantry but perfect against a handful of bandits.
They saw the smoke from the fire over the hill and Ulpius knew that they were close. He drew his sword and his men mirrored his actions. They came over the rise silently, like wraiths. The grey overcast sky helped to mask their outlines and the Carvetii were too busy killing the last of the villagers. They had been so confident that they had posted no sentries; it would cost them dear. The smoke helped to hide the Romans until they were within javelin range. The Romans charged silently to appear suddenly from the smoke. The raiders were despatching their last few victims and the first they knew was when swords sliced through the air taking heads and limbs in a heartbeat of destruction. The action was over in a few heartbeats; the surprise had been so complete that the fallen had barely had time to realise their plight. They were too busy slaughtering unarmed villagers and had made the cardinal sin of not leaving a sentry to watch. The action was so sudden and swift that unfortunately none had survived and the decurion princeps had no prisoners to question. While that disappointed Ulpius he was also pleased that his men had survived intact and in his heart he knew that it was difficult to get information from these tribesmen. He was not even sure that these were part of a grander plan. He suspected that it was a few men trying to profit from the chaos of the war.
They had just finished stripping the bodies when Marcus arrived. “We saw the smoke. Looks like we are too late for the fun.”
“Aye but we eat well tonight. We will camp here and move off in the morning. “
Marcus took in the bodies and the lack of wounds on the Romans. “If this continues we will end the war before it has begun.”
“This is not the war. This is Venutius preparing for the war. I fear that the tribune’s plan will not work. The fox has fled and we will just have a few scraps of men to pick at.” While some men began slaughtering one of the animals others began making a smile pile of Carvetii skulls. The Pannonian intentions were being made clear.
Leaving a handful of men to drive the remaining animals back to Eboracum, Ulpius took the rest of his men towards the meeting point. He hoped that the rest of the ala had been as successful as he with no casualties and many Carvetii heads. They rode warily until they recognised the other Roman riders who appeared on their left and right flanks. Within a day he had the whole of his ala. As they reported to him he realised that the majority of the Carvetii had to have fled west for they had only encountered pockets of resistance and they, as with his raiders, had been scavengers rather than warriors. He was about to order their return to the comfort of the fort when their Brigante scout reported signs of a large body of men heading west. Ulpius quickly made up his mind. “Fulvius Agrippa, take all but the first. Second and third turmae back to Eboracum I will see where this trail leads.”
The moors seemed much emptier to Marcus as the rest of the ala took the path south. Gaius turned to him. “Would it not be better to take the whole of the ala with us?”
“I think the decurion is thinking of his whole command. Some of the mounts were looking a little weary as were the men. We have little opportunity to replace either. I am beginning to see that command is never as easy as it looks,” he grinned and punched the younger man on the arm, “when you are a tadpole.”
Gaius laughed, “Aye but one day I will be a frog and then you will hear me roar.”
It was later that day when they arrived at the first great river they had seen since Eboracum. It was a dangerous place for beyond the river there were no Romans. Ulpius went forward with the Brigante scout and they dismounted in a small wood just on a bluff above the river. Bellying up they could see the river below with a bridge. It appeared to be unguarded. The bridge itself was a crude wood affair and Ulpius doubted that it would take much punishment. If the legions ever came they would need to build a new one. He sent the scout down to make sure there were no enemy in hiding and he watched as the man scurried down the bank peering from the tree line as a checked for signs. It was with some relief that Ulpius saw him sprint across the bridge for that meant there were no Carvetii. After a few minutes on the other side he made the all clear signal and Ulpius stood to summon the rest of his men.
Once they were safely across the bridge Ulpius summoned his decurions. “Marcus I want you to guard this crossing with your turma. The rest of us will continue to follow. I need to be sure that when we return we can cross. Protect this crossing.”
Although Marcus was disappointed he knew that he had a greater responsibility as he was to make sure all of them would return. “I shall do so decurion princeps.”
Ulpius smiled, “I know you will. We should return within two days. My scout tells me that Brocavum is but two days march hence. I suspect that is where they will be going.”
The scout was right and, on the evening of the following day Ulpius could see, some distance away, the stronghold of Brocavum. Leaving the turma under the command of Lucius Demetrius he took Gaius and the scout with him to see close up what the problems of assaulting Brocavum might be. It was almost nightfall when they arrived. They had the advantage that they rode from the east and the stronghold was silhouetted against the setting sun. They tethered their mounts in a copse and rand from bush to bush until they were within arrow shot of the walls. They were so close they could smell the cooking, feel the heat from the fires and hear the noise of feasting. There were guards on the palisades but they appeared unconcerned with events outside the fortress. The gate was barred and there was a ditch around it. The three of them slid like snakes to the edge of the mound which surrounded it. As they peered over Ulpius could see that there was not only water in it but also sharpened spikes. It would be a death trap. They made their way back to their horses.
Later, as they walked back to the safety of a small clearing where they would camp Gaius finally asked the questions which had been racing around his head. “Is that kind of place easy to attack?”
Ulpius looked down at his eager young face. “Attacking any kind of fort is never easy but our legionary brothers are adept at it. That one, my young friend is particularly difficult for the ground nearby is rocky and uneven that makes it hard to get the siege engines into place. The legionaries work better if they have a flatter area in which to manoeuvre.”
“That ditch looked nasty.”
“Nasty? I can think of stronger words to describe it. There may be traps hidden below the water, the banks are so steep and deadly that you could lose a cohort just crossing the ditch. I think that if we are to defeat Venutius we will either have to starve
him out or defeat him in open battle.”
Chapter 8
Eboracum
Cresens was incandescent with rage when the turma returned to camp. He had hoped that Venutius would have finished him off but he returned without a wound and, it appeared, without having lost a man. What was even worse he was bringing in supplies and arms taken from those Carvetii who had perished during the patrol. He hastened off to see the witch; he would have to put his more direct murderous plan into action.
Eboracum was now a little more civilised. The marching camp had been fortified into something more permanent and dwellings were erupting all around the periphery. The queen, of course had a house which whilst not a palace was more fitting. The foundations and lover part were made of stone found in a quarry not far away. The upper part was watt and daub. Inside there was a fire and separate rooms for the queen and her handmaidens. The door was guarded by two legionaries. The tribune was anxious that the only ally they had should not be murdered. Although her food was prepared in the legionaries’ kitchen it was prepared by the tribunes cook, a man with epicurean tastes much as his master.
Despite all this Cartimandua was not happy. She was surrounded by Romans. Her people were kept outside the fortress and her conversations were limited to her handmaidens. She had always enjoyed power and this vacuum did not suit her. She was not making the decisions; she relied on others to do that. If the Romans chose to discard her she would be nothing, at the mercy of her own people and the evil Venutius. She was under no illusions, she would not last long. In her heart she knew that the real reason for the disquiet, the sadness, the ache was there was no man to share her bed. Ulpius had been on patrol for a moon and she longed for his touch. She had important news to impart and she needed him. Lenta and Macha had learned to walk quietly around her for any minor inconvenience could result in a tirade. Just as the queen they were overjoyed when they heard the signal of the returning patrol.
Cartimandua began to prepare herself for her warrior. She ordered Lenta to bring to her the most expensive and alluring perfume she possessed. Macha began to apply the eye paint she had seen on the Egyptian slave girls. When she was as ready as she could be she waited. When would he come? As queen she could not go to him she had to wait, her loins aching for the moment her man would appear. She chewed her lip nervously. She wondered how he would take the news. When she had discovered it she felt a riot of emotions shock, happiness, incredulity, fear. She had thought when she missed her bleeding that her time was changing and she could no longer bear children. When she began to vomit in the mornings and when she felt the strange sensation in her belly she knew that she was to have a child. She also knew that this one she would keep for in Ulpius Felix she had a man who could be a father. She had a man she would love to grow old with. She just didn’t know how he would take to becoming a father. Neither of them had discussed it; it had not even been a fleeting thought for they both had thought she was too old and in they had enjoyed the act far too much to think of the consequences.
The other problem would be with her people. How would they take to her cohabitation with a Roman, an enemy? Although she cared little for their thoughts their opinion might make them shift to support Venutius and then all her work would have been for nothing. She had six months before the child would be born. It would be simplest if she kept out of the public view. That would also give her more time to plan a strategy to include Ulpius in her life. She smiled to herself; at least motherhood was not softening her political and strategic mind.
Ulpius was too busy with his report. He knew Marcus and Drusus would ensure the animals and the men were looked after but the reality was he would have to account to the tribune for the delay in returning. Flavinius and Augustinius kept him cooling his heels for what seemed an age. Ulpius ached from the hard riding and the hard fighting. All he wanted was a bath, food and some wine. Eventually he was summoned. It was the tribune who addressed him. “You seem to have taken rather longer than we planned for this foray.” He paused and glared aggressively at Ulpius. “And I see neither prisoners nor slaves.”
“I would have brought both had the enemy not been so careless with their lives. They fought like demons. Those that were not killed in the fighting died of their wounds.”
“Well, get on with your report.”
“As ordered we swept towards the hills to the west and Carvetii stronghold. We found groups of warriors collecting animals and food, laying the land bare. There were many groups. We followed them as far as the great river in the north. The other turmae had joined in the sweep and there were many hundreds. Most died in the battle, some were swept away down the river and a few escaped north.”
“And why did you not follow them?”
The horses were tired and the river fast flowing. Most of the enemy who tried it died. I did not think the tribune would want me to waste his cavalry in such a reckless adventure.”
The tribune’s voice took on an even more threatening tone. “Have a care decurion princeps. Do not be impertinent with me! Do not presume to read my thoughts! Do you think I care how many of you savages die!
The prefect coughed. “Where are the nearest Carvetii?”
“We followed them to the highest passes and they went west. I tracked a large band of warriors who went back to their stronghold at Brocavum. It is many days travel on a horse. I believe he has gone there to winter and prepare for a war in the next year.”
There was silence as the tribune peered at the rudimentary map. “You believe! And who are you? The mighty Germanicus?”
The prefect spoke again. “Did you see many of the queen’s people, the Brigante?”
“We saw signs but only of women and the old. We saw no warriors. The ones we spoke to said they feared Venutius would return and punish them for their queen.”
The prefect and the tribune pondered this. Ulpius continued, “I have seen his stronghold it is better built than Stanwyck. “
The prefect sighed,” You are right taking a hill fort is not the work for cavalry.”
The tribune snorted. “It seems that there is little work which is suitable for these auxiliaries. “He managed to imbue the word ‘auxiliary’ with an invective normally reserved for a curse. “But may be you are right that is work for a legion. Perhaps when the new military governor arrives.”
“He is due then?”
“I believe he is travelling even as we speak.”
Ulpius stood, feeling foolish as the two men spoke as though he was not even there. I want your cavalry out all winter on patrols. I do not want to be surprised by a winter attack.”
“But tribune the horses will suffer. There is little enough feed for them as it is. Would it not be better to rest them for the campaigns next year?”
“Prefect I have made my decision. Carry out your orders!” With that the tribune left.
The two cavalrymen looked at each other. “He is a fool”
“Yes Ulpius but he is the commander and he makes the decisions. Perhaps when the military governor comes we may be better off but I do not know the man.” He looked closely at the decurion princeps. “How hard do they fight?”
“They are wild. They appear to have no regard for their own safety. They hurl themselves at man and horse. One wound will not slow them down. My men learned early that you go for the killing blow for they will not stop until either you or they are dead. If Venutius has an army of them it may be harder than we think.”
“Wine?”
“Aye I need that.” He took a long draught. “There is something else. My Brigante scouts speak of people from the north, allies of Venutius who are even more ferocious. They fight naked and paint their bodies blue.” The prefect laughed. “I do not jest and I believe my scouts.”
“I do not laugh at you for I have heard the same. The queen told me of these people. Until her marriage to Venutius, the Brigante were plagued by raids. No, I smile at the thought of a man fighting naked. Why is it that the fools think that a bit of
blue paint will stop an arrow? I prefer mail and good discipline.”
“That is one good thing. They wear little armour but their weapons are good. At least they have few archers otherwise we would suffer.”
“Is there any other news I can pass on to Governor Bolanus when he arrives?”
“There are no roads. There is little food and no shelter. It will be a hard campaign. There is little grass for the horses. The hill forts are only made of wood and earth but they will need legions to take them.”
“Rest. I will send the other troopers out on patrol. Ready your men and watch yourself. I fear the tribune does not like you.”
“I have shat bigger turds than him.”
“Maybe but those turds couldn’t have you crucified; he can, without even blinking. I have met his type before. He was born into power and he thinks that we are little more than slaves. Remember how Romans treat slaves. Think on that.”
The sun was setting when Ulpius finally got around to thinking about the queen. He had been away some time. Perhaps she had someone else to pleasure her. Perhaps he had dreamed the whole experience. Perhaps he had imagined it to have greater import than she. He did not know what to do. He decided to walk past her dwelling it was on the way to the kitchen area.
As he strode through the camp acknowledging the shouts, waves and salutations from comrades he did not notice the fat quartermaster studying him through half lidded eyes. The ex-soldier was on his way to see the spy with the information he had gleaned from the tribune’s clerk a man whose indiscretions were known by Cresens and who was the fount of most of his information. He would get money for his information and then he would get the poison that would rid him of Ulpius and regain him his power.
Ulpius for all his confidence with his men was less confident with women- the camp followers and whore were not a problem but the queen was a different proposition. The two guards saluted as he went by the door to her domus. He was about to head for the canteen when he felt a tug on his sleeve. He turned quickly and saw that it was Macha. She spoke quietly and softly so that the grizzled warrior had to bend down to listen.