Hosker, G [Sword of Cartimandua 07] Trajan's Hunters

by Griff Hosker

  Livius and his companions joined the red eyed and grim faced captain. “Was that a typical storm Quintus?”

  “We have had many storms which tested both the ship and the men but that one was a particularly unpleasant test from the god Neptune. Namnetum will give us the chance to make repairs and you will have at least a day to find out what you need.”

  “When will we reach there?”

  Quintus squinted into the sky. “We should make landfall towards dusk.”

  Namnetum was on the northern shore of a mighty river. Its strategic importance was underlined by its solidly built fortress dominating the entrance to this important port on the vital waterway which flowed through the middle of Gaul. The citadel itself was on one of the large islands which stood in the middle of the river; this afforded it the greatest protection from attack both by land and sea. Two bridges connected the island to the land where the river was narrow whilst on the other side there was enough room for a number of ships to pass comfortably. The fact that it was an island also increased the quay space and Quintus headed for a conveniently empty berth on the southern, wider side of the river. They could see the alert sentries checking them out as they edged closer to the quayside but it was obvious to all that they were a Roman bireme and they tied up quickly aided by the idlers waiting for work.

  “I suspect that the officials you need to speak with will be finished for the day and you will need to seek them tomorrow. I will find the harbourmaster and then I shall sleep. Will you be staying on board?”

  “I think we will find a tavern. No offence intended Quintus but we may find more information by listening to the locals before we see the promagistrate tomorrow. Besides I think my two companions may enjoy a night in a bed which does not pitch and toss around.”

  Quintus grinned, his exhausted face betraying the tribulations of the last two days. “No offence taken. Most of my men would jump at the chance of a night ashore but I am afraid they will be working all night to make repairs.” He waved an arm at the battered boat; the signs of the damage caused by the storm were obvious. As Livius, Metellus and Rufius left they could see the devastation wreaked by the maelstrom which had assaulted them: there were broken oars, the sail was ripped in a number of places, the seams of the planks had alarmingly sprung and the pumps were still working as hard as they had during the storm.

  “Do you think they can fix her up again?”

  “Yes Rufius. Sailors are a tough breed and to them their ship is a living thing. They will heal her wounds and she will be ready to sail tomorrow. Tonight we will use some of the Emperor’s gold to have a more comfortable night’s rest and then ask questions.”

  “Do you think they actually came ashore then Livius?”

  “The Governor thought that he must have picked up a crew here but they only found the bodies later and did not make the connection.” He patted his calfskin packet. “Perhaps this may jog their memory.” As they walked across the island to the vicus they could see what a busy place it was. Even though the sky was darkening there were still people engaged in purposeful activity. Other ships were pulling into the port for the safety of the walls and the land. “If my brother had a journey which was as traumatic as ours then he would have needed to put into here. Besides as Drest told us the ship was taken from Eboracum with no preparation for a long sea voyage. They had more mouths to feed and would have needed to put into a port to re-provision. It would make sense that they landed here and, having landed, we can hope that they left an impression.”

  The tavern they chose was a bigger one than the one in Pontius Itius. Namnetum was an important port as it afforded travel deep into Gallia Aquitania along its vital river. They had learned their lesson about the drink and drank the apple drink they had found so pleasant further north. When Livius bought drinks for the locals they found that it loosened their tongues and they immediately struck gold.

  “Yes I remember the bodies. They had all had their throats cut. Alerix, he found them, was upset as a couple of them were just young lads.”

  “Just before you found them, say a week or so were there any strangers in the port?”

  The man laughed and shook his head. “There are always strangers here. It is a port.”

  Metellus leaned forward. “You might have remembered a couple of them. Was there someone who looked like my friend here?” He pointed to Livius.

  “No I don’t think so.”

  “How about a giant? Someone much bigger than us.”

  “No that would have stayed with me.” The man finished his drink and stood to leave. “Well thank you for the drink and if…”

  “How about someone who looked like a soldier with a long scar…”

  “Him I saw! Nasty looking bastard! He came in here and signed on half a dozen lads. They must have been desperate because he didn’t look like a sailor himself. More like a soldier. That was the strange thing because there was no ship in port. They left with him that day and they must still be at sea as we haven’t seen them since.”

  Rufius and Metellus exchanged looks and Livius said, ominously, “If the scar faced man took them away they may well end up like the sailors your friend found.”

  “Really?” The old man looked genuinely distraught.

  “I am afraid so.”

  “I hope you are wrong, some of them left wives and children here.” Shaking his head the man left.

  After he had left Metellus turned to their leader. “Does that help us Livius?”

  “Yes it does. It confirms that they came here and headed south. Tomorrow’s visit is probably unnecessary but we will see what the promagistrate can offer in the way of help. After all we know nothing about this area and the way they work. It could well be that we have to head back here at some point and it doesn’t hurt to see the quality of the officials.”

  The promagistrate was a fussy yet cheerful little man. Gnaeus Villius Coccius loved his job, he loved the detail, the minutiae, and he loved the bureaucracy of it. He was never happier than when filling out forms, checking documents and organising people. When Livius presented the calfskin authorisation from the Emperor the small man was impressed. “If there is anything I can do to facilitate your quest please ask.”

  ”We believe that the dead sailors were murdered by a band of deserters who then hired another crew in your vicus. Do you know anything of them?”

  The promagistrate went to a neatly organised bank of wax tablets and selected one. “According to my records there were men recruited at about that time to sail on a ship which was apparently anchored in the estuary although I can find neither record of the name of the vessel nor any evidence that they landed and paid mooring fees.”

  “You didn’t meet the men then?”

  “No, no. My work here is far too important to meet people. I have to organise you know and keep records.” He gestured to the impressive pile of papyri and tablets. “I will need to find out why that particular ship did not comply with my regulations. Very irregular you know.”

  Livius shook his head. He would get nowhere with this official whose beaming face showed him how proud he was of his achievements and who was so focussed on the minutiae of his role. He tried another tack. “We will be heading south to seek out this renegade band. Do you know the name of the officials in Portus Santonum?”

  “Ah yes. As it happens I appointed Julius Saturninus myself. A keen young man who will go far.”

  “Could I trouble you for a document asking me for his help?”

  Gnaeus pointed at the calfskin packet. “You have the document from the Emperor why do you…?”

  Livius decided that the small man’s ego needed flattering. “As you are his mentor…”

  “Quite. Pleased to be able to help warriors of the Emperor.” He took out a small piece of papyrus and wrote a short message. He then folded it and sealed it with a flourish, looking like someone who has given a far greater service.

  When the papyrus was handed over Livius gave the promagistra
te his first report for the Governor of Britannia. It outlined what they had discovered and what they hoped to do. Livius was acutely aware that if anything happened to the three of them then his brother would escape justice and the storm had shown just how perilous their journey could be. “If you could send this safely to the Governor of Britannia?”

  “Of course. Anything else?” He gestured at the documents on the desk. “As you can see I am a very busy man.”

  “Just one more thing. Have you had any reports of newcomers south of here? Perhaps soldiers or colonists.”

  “Saturninus did mention that he had some new important neighbours but I do not think it can be your men. They sounded like rich Roman settlers. Just the sort of people we need here.”

  The man was living in a cocoon and knew nothing of the real world; just the world of numbers, lists and reports but at least Livius knew that they were heading in the right direction. He was closing in on his brother. They had their next destination and he felt sure that the rich Roman settlers would turn out to be deserters, murderers and thieves.

  Chapter 14

  Decius Lucullus Sallustius smiled contently to himself. He had done it. After the disaster of the rebellion and the interlude with Morwenna he had thought his good fortune had ended. When his brother had so nearly caught him and they had lost some of the gold he felt that the Parcae had forsaken him. Now as he sat in the solar of his new fortified villa he knew that he had made it. Centurion wandered in, a new amphora of wine in his unsteady hand. Decius noticed that he had become used to Centurion no longer dressed and armed as a soldier but in the dress of a rich citizen. He still looked intimidating with his scarred face but no longer martial. It had taken some time to rid him of the necessity of arming each day

  “Well old friend now we have it all eh?”

  Centurion slumped onto the couch. “After all the years of fighting this seems like a just reward. The gold.” He raised his beaker to toast Decius.

  As Decius emptied his beaker he thought of all that they had achieved since arriving in Gallia Aquitania; the murdered sailors, the burnt boat and the stolen animals; that was ancient history. It had been simple enough to kill the sailors but less easy to dispose of the small ship. What had seemed so fragile on the journey south had proved remarkably difficult to actually sink. In the end Tiny had had to smash holes in the bottom of the ship and then quickly jump overboard as centurion’s fire had finally taken hold.

  After they had managed to find the mule train and kill the merchants they had headed north and when they had stumbled upon this idyllic spot above the river they knew that they had found the perfect position and place in which to settle. There were just the four of them left now. Tiny and Nuada were the only ones who had survived the journey. The ones who had not died along the way had been ruthlessly murdered once they reached this sanctuary. Situated on a bluff above a lake and close to a river it was almost impregnable. The wall which surrounded the villa had a step to enable them to fire on an attacker and the gates were solidly constructed.

  He had amazed even himself that, in the short time they had been here they had established themselves as businessmen. He laughed to himself. They had killed many of the other businessmen and farmers in the area and blamed it on bandits. The decapitated remains of their redundant deserters gave the evidence that Decius and his men were to be viewed as saviours. Now they controlled the wine and salt trade in the area. Their original stash of gold had doubled in size as they used their local monopoly to eliminate opposition. They had become bankers loaning money to others in the area in return for a high rate of interest. Money came to money. They now had a well armed and efficient private army which was run by Tiny and Nuada. It ensured that any local bandits were discouraged and any opposition could be quietly disposed with; a good life.

  “You are not bored then Centurion?”

  Half opening his eyes his lieutenant slurred, “Bored? Why should I be bored? Women when I want, the finest food and drink I have ever eaten and total security.” He waved a drunken hand around the visible signs of opulence and then fell asleep.

  Decius smiled and went to look at their fortress for they had indeed built a fortress. There were two gates in, as Centurion had said a Porta Praetorium and a Porta Decumana, the military was never far from Centurion’s mind. The stone walls had a firing step and were high. They in turn were surrounded by a ditch; admittedly it lacked lillia but they could be sown in an emergency. The fact that the nearest Roman troops were two mighty rivers away meant that they were unlikely to be disturbed and the Santones had been defeated and pacified by Julius Caesar almost two centuries earlier. As he looked around at his kingdom he knew he had it all. His one partial regret was that Morwenna was still in Britannia. His view of her had mellowed over the year and he now no longer thought of her faults, of which she had many but those attributes and skills, mainly in bed, which he now sought. He had made much use of the local women but Morwenna had been unlike any woman he had ever known. Aula, his aunt had been a pussycat by comparison. Morwenna had been like a wild animal and the true mate for someone like Decius Lucullus Sallustius. He wondered if he should move to Italy, as had been his original intention. Here he was safe and as comfortable as he could be anywhere. He was rich and had more power than ever before. To those in the area he was more important than the Roman officials in Namnetum, the only things he lacked were civilised conversation and a woman at his side. Perhaps one day he would return to Britannia and bring back the mother of his child to rule this land.

  * * * * * *

  The short voyage down to Portus Santonum was peaceful and short; too short for Quintus who had grown to like the easy going and resourceful Explorates. They had borne the trials of the storm better than any landsman that Quintus had ever met. The fact that they had fought so well having been seasick so soon before was a testament to their professionalism. He watched as the small port on the river bank hove into view. “Well Livius I dare say it will be some time before I see you again but I return to Eboracum within two months and I will call both here and at Namnetum for news of you. You may have need of a vessel to take you home.”

  “Thank you Quintus that is thoughtful of you. We have all been changed by this voyage.”

  “You have become men of the sea and the bond with my ship is a strong one. Hercules will watch over you as you labour. Make sure you have all your belongings. You will need to be your own pack mules until you can acquire some of your own.”

  As Rufius began to gather their bags Metellus looked closely at Livius. “I think we have a problem.”

  “How so Metellus? We have survived the pirates and the sea.”

  “Drest knew you because you looked like your brother. Even though your hair is grown and you bear a beard he recognised you.”

  “That’s right Livius he did.”

  “Well what can I do?”

  “Disguise. We are Explorates. Quintus do you have charcoal?”

  “Of course we use it when we cook.”

  “Good get me some and a mortar and pestle. Rufius find me some black cloth or a piece of leather.”

  Quintus looked at Metellus curiously. “I am intrigued. What is your plan?”

  “Make a paste with the charcoal and dye Livius’ hair and beard. If he does not wash and it does not rain it will darken it.”

  “And the leather?”

  “It will be a patch. Make him look like the famous Ulpius, one eyed.”

  “You would make a great conjuror Metellus or a thief.”

  “Thank you Quintus. I take that as a compliment.”

  When they had finished Livius looked transformed and definitely furtive. The leather had been chosen as it hid more of his face. One of the crew found some beetles which they crushed up to paint a realistic scar down the cheek with the eye patch. “Well done Metellus. I would pass him in the street and not know him.”

  As the tide was turning Quintus wasted no time in turning the ship around and they did no
t even tie up to the quayside for the tide was turning and Quintus needed to be off the shore and the sandbanks. Perforce the goodbyes were perfunctory although heartfelt. Livius and his men felt heartened as the crew gave a cheer as the small bireme edged back to the sea.

  “Well we have finally started the journey. First things first. Rufius find us somewhere with horses I will see if I can requisition them; otherwise we shall have to use money. Metellus come with me and we shall see the promagistrate.” The port was much smaller than Namnetum with only a couple of small ships tied up. The only guards were the civil force and the scrutiny they received was perfunctory although Livius’ new appearance made them look closely at him as they crossed into the vicus.

  Julius Saturninus was a portly man and the antithesis of Coccius. His indolence and laziness were obvious as soon as they entered his untidy and messy quarters. Even though a younger man than the fussy official from Namnetum he looked as though he was much older as he peered at them through layers of fat and excess skin. He looked bored with them before they had spoken and seemed ready to dismiss them for they looked like low life that was beneath his attention and company. The appearance of Livius did not inspire confidence. The Decurion produced the first calfskin document which was read closely. “And what sort of assistance can I offer? I have no troops here merely a town watch and we are a poor port. Not as rich as Namnetum.” The jealousy and envy oozed poisonously in his words.