by Griff Hosker
Mercifully Marcus was not at the fort. The new prefect had deemed it necessary that he return with the two turmae from Derventio himself. Although Decius and the others had been angered at this further insult Marcus was quite pleased for it enabled him to gather his thoughts and to reflect on his position. He had served eighteen years in the cavalry, he only had another seven and, like Flavius Bellatoris he could claim his piece of land. Looking at the land around him as he travelled south east he could see that it was good land. Perhaps he could become a horse breeder. He thought back to his childhood in Cantabria and the horses he had raised with his family. It was a long time ago but it was a happy time. Yes he would wait out his seven years, spend more time with this family and then begin a horse farm. He would have his contacts with the auxiliary and would make a good living. The more he thought about it the happier he became. He let Argentium open his legs as the land became flatter and the horse relished the freedom to gallop. The high fells rolled behind him and soon he could see, in the darkening late afternoon gloom, the towers that identified the fortlet at Derventio.
He slowed his mount down to a walk. Quintus and Vettius had done a good job. The fortlet looked robust and he noticed a great air of urgency and purpose amongst the locals in the hamlet of Derventio. The two guards saluted smartly as Marcus dismounted. “Where are the decurions?”
“In the Praetorium sir!”
“Good. “Leading his horse he walked up past the barracks and could not help but see that all the men, troopers who had been recruits not that long ago now looked like soldiers. All the salutes he received were smartly given. His regret was that he was going to have to tell the men that their work had been in vain. As he saw the effort they had put into it he decided that now was the time for a lie. He would make up a reason for them to return with him.
Someone must have alerted the two decurions for they stood in full uniform outside the headquarters building. “Sir!” From their smiles they were both glad to see him.
“Good to see you gentlemen.” He waved his arm expansively around. “You have done well. This is better than I would have hoped in the time I have given you.” A trooper appeared from nowhere and led off Argentium the decurions were definitely trying to impress Marcus, and it was working.
Their smiles told him that the praise had been justified. “If you would like some refreshment sir?”
“That is the best invitation I have had all day. I would love to and while I eat you can give me your reports.”
Marcus didn’t know how hungry he was until he started to eat. He listened as Quintus gave the main report with occasional interjections from Vettius. “We found the locals pleased to see us and they provided many of the materials we needed.”
“At cost sir.”
“Quite. At Cost.” Marcus could not help smiling as he munched on his bread and cheese. The clerks back at the fort would demand that every denari be accounted for. He waved his arm and Quintus continued. “We found that the original defences had not been totally eradicated and we made good progress. We also found out why the locals were pleased to see us.” Marcus paused in his eating and swallowed a mouthful of watered wine.
“And why were they glad to see you? The money you spent?”
“Oh they were pleased enough about that but it seems there are local bandits who prey on travellers and especially seafarers. Just up the coast in a small inlet just south of the Dunum Fluvius. The people hereabouts said that for a while they could not get fish at all but just lately supplies have started to come in.” Marcus nodded fish was always a welcome addition as it could provide food even in winter. This was just the reason he had wanted the fort rebuilding to provide stability.
“Have you had a chance to investigate yet?” He could see from their crestfallen faces that they had not. “No silly of me. You had the fort to build and you have done a good job.” He reluctantly put down the goblet. “Now I suppose I had better give you the bad news. The new prefect Rufius Demetrius has arrived and has informed us that the new Governor intend the ala to take to the field in the next month. We need every trooper and you will have to return there with me.”
“You don’t want us to dismantle the fort do you sir?” Quintus’ voice told him that it would destroy the hearts of the men to undo the work. Normally when a fort was abandoned it was made indefensible by the departing soldiers to prevent it being used against them.
“What do you think of the locals?”
“Nice people sir. Hard working but a bit worried about attacks from bandits.”
“Right. It is not normally done but I will take responsibility. Before we leave tomorrow we will see the village elders and ask them if they would take over its defence. They might not be able to stop an army but I think it would deter these bandits.” He could see the relief on their faces. “When we leave tomorrow we will go north first and then follow the river. That way we can poke our noses into this bay and we may gain insight into the size of the problem. And now gentlemen I believe that I will retire and leave you two decurions to enjoy your last night of detached duty.” Marcus was diplomatic enough to realise that the two young men would want to spend their last night of command without worrying about a senior officer.
Streonshal
Atticus led the line of horses down the twisting cliff path to the huts at the foot of the cliff. Gaius Cresens had felt slightly uneasy without the powerful helmsman to protect him. Now that he had returned he felt more secure. The villagers were also glad to see the very popular young man. As the villagers unpacked the horses Cresens took him to one side. “Any trouble?”
“Not really but Stanwyck has some very unsavoury characters. The metal workers were friendly enough but the warriors were not.”
Cresens shrugged; he cared only for money and profit. “Did we make a healthy profit?”
Atticus smiled,” We made a very healthy profit. It seems they have been making armour and weapons for their own warriors for nothing and they were grateful to get their hands on silver for a change. I made some good contacts. If I return next year I know who to speak to.”
“Good. As you can see our numbers have grown and we will have need for the armour and weapons.”
Atticus looked with some misgivings at the dregs who had gravitated to their now successful settlement. They were not the hardworking type; they were chancers and opportunists. From the looks he had seen the villagers give to them they shared his sentiments but they all owed the master so much that none felt they could voice their disapproval. “Perhaps not Master. I came through Derventio and the auxiliaries are rebuilding the fort there. We may soon have peace and stability with the order that Rome brings.”
A shiver coursed through the quartermaster’s body. He did not need Romans this close and he especially did not need the auxiliary cavalry for they would recognise him. He was not to know they were new to the province. “Good. Perhaps then, if they are making the area secure we might visit our piratical friends up the coast.” Cresens was being neither brave nor thoughtful. If the Romans were returning then he needed to maximise his profits and get out of the area. He had made a little money but he knew that the pirates would have hoarded gold and silver and he wanted it. It looked like he would have to pull his disappearing act again except this time he would have an armed bodyguard of powerful warriors.
Atticus nodded his features hardening. Although a kind man Atticus wanted to deal a blow to these murderers and he knew the boys of the village would also want revenge. He had been waiting for the day when they could scour out that pestilential hole. ”I will arm the men and prepare them.”
“Good. We will leave tomorrow.”
The following day Atticus and Cresens mounted their horses and looked at the rag tag bunch of erstwhile warriors. There were ten men and a few of the village boys behind them and they were all armed with a variety of weapons. Atticus had bought what he could and some had bows while others had spears or axes. Some sported the new weapons recently purc
hased at Stanwyck. Cresens hoped that they would frighten the pirates away but he was not confident. As they made their way along the undulating cliff path the quartermaster became increasingly uneasy. It had seemed such a good idea back in the security of his villa, surrounded by his guards. Out here he would have to test not only their mettle but also their loyalty. Suppose the pirates were better armed? What if the Romans saw them? The panic began to rise inside of him and he began to plot his way out the dilemma. Fortunately Atticus gave him the solution. “Are you sure we should be leaving the settlement with so few warriors. The pirates have boats they could attack while we are heading north.”
Cresens appeared to think on this. “You are wise beyond your years Atticus. I will return and guard the village. You can carry on and mete out punishment on those barbarians. I would probably slow you up for I am an old man. Remember to bring back their plunder for we need it for the villagers; we can redistribute their wealth amongst those who had everything taken.”
“You truly are a hero master.” Atticus could not believe how kind and benevolent the Master was, always thinking of others.
“Be away with you. I am just looking after our people.” Waving he turned his horse and headed back to Streonshal. Thank the gods that they had given such a keen mind and great sense of self preservation.
Without the portly Cresens the column made good time. Atticus knew the route for they had come the other way on the night of their escape and the boys knew it well. The bought guards hung back behind both Atticus and the boys but if they were worried about that they did not show it. Some of the boys had been to the settlement and they warned Atticus when they were close. He tethered his horse to a lone tree in a dell hidden from sight and they set off for the hidden lair. They could see smoke rising from huts and knew that they were almost within touching distance. He signalled for them to spread out and they slowly bellied up the ridge which overlooked the huts again the Master’s men showed a reluctance to put themselves in the fore. Atticus glanced around; they would run at the first sign of trouble leaving just him and the few boys. If that happened he would call off the attack. He would not risk those boys for they were the future of Streonshal.
Below them they could see a handful of huts around the beach and, dragged up on the beach were their boats. From the number of boats Atticus guessed that there must be twenty or so men in the village and that was too many for the eleven men he had with him. He signalled them to retreat, “There are too many let us withdraw,” and they returned to the horse hidden in the dell. It took them some time to negotiate the path unseen. .
One of the bigger thugs took him to task as he retreated. “Why did we not attack?”
“There were too many men there. We would have been slaughtered. The Master would not want you to sacrifice your lives. We will return to Streonshal.” He could see from their faces that they were disappointed but he did not want the deaths of the boys on his hands. “Had it just been us men I might have considered it but we are too few.” He had just mounted his horse when he heard the unmistakeable sound of a buccina and the clash of arms. Romans!
Marcus and the two turma had been riding northwards with scouts out. The country was largely deserted and the only tracks they could see where the cattle tracks which meandered up and down the moors. The scouts came racing back, lashing their mounts. “Sir Bandits! They are attacking some traders.” The second scout pointed behind them and Marcus could see that the track dipped and twisted away to the sea. It was in the area identified by the headman at Derventio as the base of the bandit bands.
“Draw weapons!” he gestured to the scouts. “Lead the way.” Marcus was impressed by the military manner of these young recruits. They might not have seen action but you would not know it from the way they carried themselves.
As they came over the rise they saw the scene clearly. The traders had cloth and pottery on their horses. The twenty or so bandits who had ambushed them were busy killing in the calm, calculating way of men who have done this before and enjoy it when they heard the thunder of the turmae hooves. Panic set in instantly and they ran down the valley sides to the sea. The cavalrymen sliced through them the bare backs very tempting and unprotected targets. As Marcus sliced through the back of one unfortunate he turned and shouted, “Vettius secure the area. Quintus sound the charge we’ll rid the area of these vipers.”
Charging down the track they soon caught up with the fleeing felons who were trying to get to the boats beached by the huts. None of them made it. As the turma halted the huts erupted in a screaming maul of women who came at the troopers with any weapon to hand. Marcus was pleased to hear Quintus take charge. “Disarm these bitches or kill them.” His young troopers might have balked at such an order a month ago but now they obeyed the decurion instantly. Within moments it was over and the women were tied to each other by ropes partly to prevent them escaping and partly to stop them trying to emasculate the troopers with their ragged nails.
“Good work Quintus. Search the huts and make sure no-one is still alive then burn the bodies. I’ll be with Vettius. When all is secure join us. Good work men. Good work!”
Vettius was busy seeing to the wounded traders. Two had been killed and the other four were wounded but they would survive. They were incredulous about their escape and all had expected to die. They showed this heartfelt appreciation to Marcus. “Thank you sir. Thank you. If you had not chanced along we would have been done for. These bandits are a scourge we tried to avoid them but they have grown very bold since the troops pulled out of the fort.” The man shivered. “You would not believe what they do with their prisoners and their women sir, why they are worse. We have a saying about them. The men are men and so are the women.”
“Where were you headed?”
“Eboracum by way of Derventio.”
“Vettius when Quintus comes take six men and escort these traders to Derventio then catch up with us.” Vettius almost asked a question and then thought better of it. Smiling Marcus said,”You will catch up with us for we have some slaves and they will slow us down. Any casualties amongst your men?”
“No sir,” he grinned and spoke in a quieter voice. “Couldn’t have gone better for a first action. They will all think they are bleeding Julius Caesar’s now!”
Quintus’ arrival was heralded by the wailing of the women who were lashed together. Marcus looked at them properly as they trudged up the hill. They hurled insults and threats at the men but Vettius took his vine staff to them and they returned to giving him the sullen stare and the evil eye. They were a pitiful lot but he could see from their cruel looks and demeanour that they would stand some watching. As the headman at Derventio had told them this village had inflicted as much cruelty and pain as an invading army. Marcus nodded to Vettius as he led his men off. It had been a good day.
“A nice bit of profit here sir.”
“It certainly is. The slave traders are always looking out for new merchandise and these,” he looked back and quickly counted,” fifteen women and children will do nicely. Lead off decurion.”
Atticus and the boys climbed slowly and warily over the ridge. They had seen the efficiency of the cavalry and Atticus had prevented the boys from joining in the killing. From his experience of Roman auxiliaries they would have killed first and apologised later. They spread out and search the huts. One of the boys suddenly shouted and they all converged on one hut. They had found the hoard hidden beneath the floor.
“Right lads, Hael you ride my horse back and tell the master what we have found. The rest of you load the boats and we’ll travel back in comfort.”
Chapter 6
When the column of refugees reached Morbium it was late into the night. The sentries sent for the duty decurion. It was Fabius Demetrius. He peered over and saw a motley bunch of Brigante. He already had a low view of the inhabitants, the barbarians and they looked to him as though they were bent on destruction.
“Go away! If you do not disperse I will order my
men to fire.”
“I am Flavius Bellatoris, formerly prefect of this ala please let us in for we bring urgent news.”
“Standing orders state that the gate is not to be opened during the hours of darkness without the permission of the prefect. Go away until morning.”
One of the sentries coughed, “It is the old prefect sir. I served with him.”
“I do not care who he is standing orders state that...”
“Well go and get the prefect then,” bellowed an increasingly impatient Flavius whose knee was now throbbing with the pain of the wild ride.
”I do not take orders from the likes of you. Now clear the bridge or you will be shot.”
Flavius suddenly heard a voice he recognised. “Open that bleeding gate!”Even as he recognised the voice of the blunt decurion, Decius, he heard the gate begin to open.
“How dare you disobey my orders! I will have you whipped!”The high pitched voice made some of the sentries actually smile whilst Decius burst out laughing.
He looked up at the young face of the decurion on the ramparts. “You might not have recognised the prefect but we did and he still carries rank. You might think of that young Demetrius before you order whippings. Now get these people inside and the gate shut.”
By the time the gates were shut the whole of the fort had been awakened and a red faced Rufius was storming towards the headquarters building. “Who has allowed this rabble in here?”
Fabius piped up, “It was Decurion Decius I told him not to. He disobeyed orders.” The look on his face suggested that he felt he had scored a point over Decius.
Decius shook his head and said in a voice which was laden with undertones and emphasis. “Sir might I introduce Prefect of Auxiliaries Flavius Bellatoris, the former commander of this unit.” Rufius was at a loss for words. “You trooper get a chair can’t you see he’s in pain.” He looked at the new prefect. “Copped a nasty knee wound fighting the Novontae. Sir.”