by Griff Hosker
“Well?” said the Queen.
“He went along with you,” began Macha.
“But he went along for his own reasons,” added Lenta. “I would not trust him. He will betray you.”
“Once he has defeated Venutius he will try to rid himself of you.”
“I know.” The Queen looked hard at the two young women. “And it is you he would replace me with.”
“But we would not do that.”
Cartimandua’s face softened. “I know for you have had the chance before but you have to know that he would try and you must be careful and I must ensure that you have some protection. Perhaps marriage to a noble or powerful Roman.”
Macha looked aghast. “I will choose my own man!”
“Of course but I will choose your husband.”
“I have had one husband whom I loved I do not want another.”
“You will have another if I say so. Remember I have always looked after you and I will continue to do so. Have as many lovers as you like.”She smiled to herself thinking of Ulpius. “But, as I did with Venutius, you sometimes have to marry for power.”
Lenta murmured half under her breath, “And looked what happened there.”
There was a sharp intake of breath from Macha who wondered if her sister had gone too far. “True sister it was a mistake. Instead of keeping the wolf from the door I brought him into the fold. Let us see if we can find a hound who can be trained and controlled instead of a wolf eh”
Although Bolanus resented the Queen and her attitude her realised that it made sense for him to improve the defences of Eboracum. He set the legionaries to work building stone towers at the corners of the wooden camp. He used slave labour to begin construction of the port which was adjacent to the camp. Meanwhile he sent a messenger to Lindum to request another legion. In his report to Vespasian he exaggerated the treasures Britannia had to offer. He enthused about the potential treasures to the north, treasures which would become Imperial with another legion. He also made quite clear that Queen Cartimandua would accede to all his demands. The governor had no doubt that the Emperor would look favourably on his demands. Finally he sent for two more cohorts of the Ninth Hispana just to ensure his own safety.
The winter hardened from the gentler time of early winter; there appeared, to the Romans to be little difference between the two. The main difference was the lack of leaves on the trees a phenomenon unknown to may of the legionaries. The weather could change from a glorious sunny one to one where the skies turned black and then emptied themselves upon the land. The mighty river running through Eboracum could rise higher than a house overnight and just as quickly disappear. The more superstitious Romans attributed this to the evil and witchcraft which abounded, they believed. Any land that would follow a woman, and a wild woman such as Cartimandua, was a land which would be as capricious as a woman.
Ulpius had little time to enjoy with the mother of his unborn child as the tribune kept the decurion princeps and his troopers on patrol as much as possible. The times they had together were precious. As she was trying to hide her pregnancy she kept indoors as much as possible which made life much easier for Ulpius. There were now more Brigante warriors drifting into Eboracum. Once Cartimandua had vetted them for loyalty she executed those not to be trusted and enrolled the rest into a bodyguard. She was still as ruthless as ever and seemed to have the ability to almost sniff out those who were not loyal subjects who wished to serve her. So it was that Ulpius found it easier to access the queen getting past guards whose loyalty was to the queen and not Rome.
When not on patrol they lay in each other’s arms, talking like young lovers long into the night. The queen was fascinated by his scars and questioned him at length about the origin of each one. The Roman, for his part, was curious about the life of a warrior queen. His own tribe had held women in esteem but had not made one their leader. Cartimandua explained about the sword and its symbolism. When Ulpius held the sword he could understand the power of the weapon. His own people viewed all swords as magical but the sword of the lake appeared to him to be the ultimate magic weapon.
“Promise me that, when I die,” she held her hand over his protesting mouth, “when I die for I am old to be a mother and child birth is hard even for younger women; you will make sure that my son has this sword. Guard it with your life for as long as this sword is wielded by one of my family then Brigantia will live. Swear!”
“I so swear but you will outlive me. One of these patrols will see me gutted. I cannot avoid every arrow and sword for I have outlived all of my people who joined the Romans. The gods alone know why I live.”
“Live you must for if, you died, all meaning would go from my life. We will soon have a child and he will need us both.”
They embraced and silent tears coursed down the queen’s face. The unborn child was changing her and making her less of a warrior. Shaking herself she looked at Ulpius. “Swear too that you will protect my sisters and family for there will be many who would cause them harm or use them as Venutius tried to use me.”
“I swear but I have little power. The tribune wishes me gone.”
“We will deal with the tribune. Perhaps if he were sent away from Eboracum for a while…”
“I cannot see the weasel wishing to leave the safety of these walls.”
“Nor can I but something may arise.” The queen’s razor sharp mind was already plotting; unlike the military mind of Ulpius she had a politic mind which had enabled her to survive for so many years with so many enemies. The governor might think he understood politics but he had not come up against a formidable opponent such as Cartimandua.
Gaius Cresens surreptitiously peered over his should as made his way towards the woods and the dwelling of Fainch the witch. He had long ago ceased from sexual advances and had begun to fear the dark eyed vixen who appeared to know far too much for someone who appeared never to leave her hut. He had yet to acquire the poison he had requested and he suspected that she was holding it back for some reason. He had good information this time and he hoped she would give him what he desired.
“I have some news.”
“If you are here to tell me that soldiers are coming from the south then you can leave for I know it already.”
Cresens inwardly cursed. He had hoped that the information was a secret. “No it is greater news than that.”
“So you are not going to tell me that the governor intends to attack Venutius before the festival of Eostre?”
Gods! The woman had other spies. “No it is news which cost me dear to acquire.” He paused significantly.
“On with it Roman. Don’t stand there licking your greasy chops.”
“I know you know that there are legionaries coming from Lindum but you do not know that Bolanus has sent for another legion from Rome.” Her silence told him that this was news indeed. “Is not that information worth gold and, perhaps, the little favour I asked?”
“Here is some gold but the rest and the, er favour, will have to wait until I have the information confirmed.”
So did have other informants. Cresens determined to keep his ears open. “Thank you for this. I will return next week.”
“As a small favour I would not send for any supplies for the next week. They may not arrive.”
The quartermaster looked in surprise. There would be an attack on the supply routes. The soldier in him wondered why and the thief in him was already plotting how to profit from that news.
Saenius Augustinius gnawed nervously on a fingernail. The new governor was not making his life easier. The fool appeared to go along with the Brigante bitch in all she said and did. Even now her quarters were being improved and her guards increasing by the day. He was rarely consulted on anything remotely important. He could see his military career ending ignominiously and he would have to slink back to Rome a failure. This was, as his father had told him, his best chance for glory; the primitive warriors of Britannia were no match for the Roman legions and he had pict
ured himself returning with the laurel leaves of a victor. What was even worse was the lack of respect he had from the barbarian cavalry. The prefect Flavinius Bellatoris paid lip service to him and the only respect he had was to his office and not to him. He seethed and blamed that one eyed barbarian Ulpius; he had chosen to disregard him and he had the backing of the Queen. He had thought that by promoting him he would ensure his loyalty and he would do as he wanted. The decurion princeps had not done so. The Queen also seemed to regard him as something unpleasant into which she had stepped. Would that they were both dead! He had tried to engineer Ulpius’ demise by constant patrols but he seemed to thrive on the action. His only pleasure came from the fact that he was keeping him from the whore’s bed and that gave him pleasure.
He finished writing his weekly report and stood to peer into the camp. It was a desolate place now that the leaves had left the trees and the cold was biting into his bones. He pondered wrapping his bearskin around his shoulders but he knew it would be colder later on. Across the camp he noticed the quartermaster watching him. The tribune knew of some of the illicit deals the man made but he chose to ignore them as he benefited sometime. Perhaps he could use this obvious criminal to his own ends. He signalled him over.
Cresens wondered why the tribune needed him. He had been of service to the patrician on a number of occasions, normally involving women and twice with boys. Perhaps the tribune needed servicing.
“Come in quartermaster. Sit.” He leaned forward put his hands together and peered at the ex-soldier over the tips of his fingers. His eyes were sharp and watched for any reaction from the corpulent Cresens. “How is your new position working out then, “he paused trying to remember the fat old cavalryman’s name, “ Gaius? How are you enjoying being a quartermaster?”
“It is an honour sir although if truth be told I would still prefer to command the ala.”
Saenius smiled at the thought of this fat man sitting astride a horse but he hid the smile behind his hands. “Ah yes it is a shame that we no longer have a Roman as decurion princeps but still Ulpius Felix is a brave warrior is he not?”
“He has brave men with him but I find it interesting that others die and others are wounded and yet the man who leads them always comes back without a scratch.”
The tribune now knew what he had suspected, there was no love lost between the two men and he could use that to his advantage. “Perhaps you may have something there.”
Emboldened by this apparent support Cresens continued. “There are rumours about the decurion princeps and the queen.”
“Are there? Well I think there are rumours about many things in this camp but, “he paused significantly and lowered his hands, “if you should hear anything of a more solid nature I am sure you would tell me first would you not?”
Gaius’ face lit up, he had an ally, “Of course, of course. I will keep you informed of anything which would be of interest to yourself and Rome.” He paused. “Has the tribune noticed that the Queen is becoming larger?”
“Well good food.”
“One of her servants hinted that she is, well she is with child!”
“Don’t be absurd. She is too old.” Even as he said it the tribune wondered if that were true. It would explain much. It would also give him more power as knowledge was power.
“Good. Well thank you for your time and he added significantly for the information. You will not lose by my friendship.” With a wave the quartermaster was dismissed but he left not feeling rejected but accepted. His star was on the rise and he was already calculating how to profit from this new liaison.
So the longer nights and shorter days drifted into a similar pattern. The queen grew larger, the patrols increasingly fraught as fodder and food diminished and the buildings grew apace. It was in the depths of winter, when the nights were the longest and the weather the coldest that the change came. Even the tribune had to accept that the patrols were no longer relevant and besides the first ships had arrived at Eboracum with fresh supplies of wine, olives and delicacies such as the Romans had not seen for months. The governor called a three day holiday with just the guards on the camp walls and the slaves working.
Cresens took the opportunity to visit with Fainch. Although she would have known about the lull in activity he thought he might be able to get something for his information. According to his slaves this was the local festival of Yule; perhaps she would be more forthcoming with her favours. He had only been in her hut for moments when that hope was dashed. “Have you brought information fat one or are you here to lose your manhood?”
“I bring news that there is a holiday for three days and no patrols.”
“Is that all? I too knew that.” In truth she did not know how many days nor did she know that the patrols had ceased but she did not want to give away too much.
“And there is boat arrived from Ostia. It brings many luxuries from home.”
Surprisingly that information seemed to interest the witch. “There will be feasting?
“There will be much for the Romans will celebrate Saturnalia.”
“Do you still wish for the poison to rid yourself of Ulpius?”
His face lit up with malice and mischief. “Yes, give me give!”
She tantalisingly held out a phial. You may have it provided,” she dropped her voice; “the Queen and the Governor also die!”
The quartermaster’s face went ashen. To kill the decurion princeps was one thing but to risk the governor was quite another. “You are mad! I would be discovered!”
“Think you cowardly lump! Have they not brought rich delicacies from Rome? Have they not brought spices and sweetmeats which will mask flavours? It will be easy. The queen and the governor will have the choicest of foods all you need is someone to put the potion in their food. “The one eyed barbarian you hate, he could also die, “she shrugged, “I am sure it could be hidden in his wine.”
He chewed his lip nervously. The witch was right, this was the perfect opportunity. If he timed it right he could be safe from blame; as quartermaster he had access to all the foods as they arrived. He knew which ones would be chosen by the governor. His only problem was ensuring that his ally, the tribune did not eat the same food. “Give. I will do as you bid.” He would not use the wine for he was not sure that they would all drink it. He needed to find another means.
“When they are dead there will be more gold for you.”
This was proving to be an excellent meeting. Ulpius would be gone and he would be richer, perhaps rich enough to return to Rome.
Chapter 10
The queen’s quarters Eboracum
Lenta smiled when Macha volunteered to pass a message from the queen to Ulpius; it was not the first time that she had done so. Lenta was pleased for her sister, she knew that she and the soldier Marcus had an understanding and as a woman who had known a man Lenta wanted her sister to enjoy the same joy. Macha, for her part, felt Lenta’s eyes on her back but she felt not shame but secret delight that she would pass by the Roman she believed she loved. She would never know until he held her, until he caressed her, until he kissed her and yes, until he took her. She also felt the eyes of all the soldiers in the camp appraising her and imagining themselves with her. Her position as the queen’s sister ensured that no one would dare make a comment or a gesture but she knew they were watching her. She hoped that Marcus would be near to Ulpius so that she could snatch a few moments with him.
Her heart lifted when she saw him in conversation with Drusus outside the decurion princeps’s quarters. She coloured a little when she saw the grin on Drusus’ face and the reddening face of the man she loved.
“Lady,” Marcus and Drusus both bowed their heads.
“I have a message for the decurion princeps.” It was as though he had been awaiting the message for Ulpius strode out.
“Yes my lady? What is the message?”
“The Queen wishes to discuss the training of her bodyguards.”
Ulpius wiped the gri
ns off the faces of his subordinates with a glare of his eye. “Marcus check sick roll.” Hearing the laugh from Drusus he added, “Drusus, make sure the horses have had their quarters cleaned.” As he strode off to his lover’s chambers Ulpius couldn’t help grinning at the discomfort of all three young people. It was good that Macha and Marcus had found each other. He could not believe that he had found love so late in life. He did not care if people knew but he preferred to keep it a secret for the dignity of the queen.
Left alone Marcus and Macha were at a momentary loss until Macha said, “Could I help you with the roll?”
“That would be, yes thank you kindly lady.”
In truth checking the sick roll was a quick job, as Ulpius had known and it was finished far too quickly for the two would be lovers. Macha felt obliged to fill the silence as Marcus had shown in previous meetings that he was tongue tied in the presence of women. “Are you looking forward to Yule?”
“Yule? I am sorry we do not celebrate at this season. We just hunker down until the days lengthen.”
“As we do but we make sure that feast. We light a fire that burns until the days lengthen and we eat all the foods we have saved from the harvest. That is why we were so happy when your ships began to arrive for now we have the spices we need to make the food taste so good. We cut green leaves and put them in our homes and we guard our homes from evil with the magic white berries. Then we drink the brews from the harvest, sing songs and tell stories.”
Marcus laughed. “We have a similar festival, we call it Saturnalia but we drink more than we eat. Yule sounds a better way to celebrate. I look forward to my first Yule. Does everyone celebrate together?”
Macha’s face darkened a little. “When we had our own home and hall yes, all our people came together but here our quarters are so small that we could only host ten or twelve people.” Her eyes twinkled when she added, “Perhaps my sister will invite Ulpius and some of his senior officers.”When Marcus coloured and grinned like a child Macha laughed out loud. “Your face my love can be read like the stars.”