by Griff Hosker
The prefect thought for a moment and said, “Yes I think so.”
As they entered Marcus’ quarters he glanced at the prefect. Details were never the prefect’s strong point. Marcus knew exactly how many men there were. “And with the recruits you have received from us all the turmae are complete? Again the prefect nodded but the vague look showed Marcus that he didn’t actually know.
“So how many trained men have you now?”
“Including the two you sent back to us? Two hundred and fifty.” He could see the prefect trying to do the mental calculations. “That is six turma. Morbium was built for ten so might I suggest you take Metellus and two turmae back with you?”
“Good idea.” He stood with his back to the brazier warming his hands as Marcus poured a beaker of warmed spiced wine already prepared by his servant. “At my last conference the Governor outlined his plans to me. We are to protect his flanks when he advances.” The sneer in his voice clearly told Marcus of his opinion. This means that we will need to divide the ala. I have already spoken to Decurion Princeps Fabius Demetrius.” Mentally irritated Marcus wondered why he could not have said, ‘my son’. “And he will command one wing. You will, of course command the other wing.”
“And you sir will you be with the Governor or one of the wings?”
He snorted in a derisory fashion, “With the Governor! I think not. No I shall be with the other wing.” He looked keenly at Marcus. “I don’t think you need me looking over your shoulder eh?”
There was a discreet knock at the door, “Come in.” The servant brought in a steaming bowl of game stew and some warm bread. “Thank you Semias. Could you just move my things over to the decurion barracks, the prefect is staying here?”
“That certainly smells good. I can see that you do well for yourselves here.”
Marcus laughed, “One of the things I realised is that a good quartermaster is worth ten fighting men. Porcius Verres was a good trooper but he loves food more. He ensures that we don’t pay a lot but we get high quality and he makes sure the cooks are the best we can get if only to satisfy his own appetite.”
“Now about decurions.” Marcus looked up expectantly.” Have you sufficient experienced men here? If not I am sure that Fabius has some men he could promote.”
Marcus was thankful that Metellus had warned him of this plot and had his answer rehearsed. “Well sir the majority of the more experienced troopers are here and if we are to campaign against the Brigante we will need officers who have battle experience. I don’t doubt that the newer men will soon learn but they will learn better from those who have fought before.” The prefect munched on some bread soaked in game stew and Marcus added quickly, “As you know sir it is a sad fact of life that we always lose decurions once we get into battle. Those men in turma eleven who have potential will soon get their chance. While we are talking of replacements, Cilo and Galeo? The ones who were sent here for retraining?” The prefect looked confused and then nodded absently. “Rather than send them back to, perhaps, cause problems in their own turmae we would like to place them with the recruits of this training batch.”
“Fine. Fine. “Wiping his mouth Rufius leaned back on his couch and finished off his wine. As Marcus topped his beaker up he said, “It may be more efficient for the ala if you stay here until spring; it would be a little crowded with the whole ala together. You can hone your ala here and make it the cutting edge. We are mustering at Stanwyck but I suspect the general will call a meeting at Eboracum. He likes meetings. I will let you know when by messenger and you will then have a week to get there. I will send some of those Batavians to watch your fort while you are away although it may well be, “he said tapping the side of his nose, “that you don’t actually get back here.”
Marcus looked thoughtful, “The invasion then?”
“Our Governor is ambitious. If he could conquer the wild tribes of the north it would pacify the rest of the province, and now… I have had a hard day.”
“Quite sir. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“And Marcus it was good to see troopers working purposefully and not over indulging Saturnalia.” The look which he flashed him told Marcus that he had been right to hold the tournament and his information had been correct; the prefect was trying to catching him unawares.
Chapter 15
The West Coast of Britannia on the edge of Brigante territory.
Fainch and her sisters had chosen this midwinter festival for their meeting for a host of reasons; few travellers were abroad; the long nights suited their purpose; they were within sight of their objective.
“The Deceangli and Ordovices will retake Mona on the feast of Eostre.”
Fainch looked in surprise, “You are certain?”
“The Roman garrisons have pulled back to Deva for they believe they have destroyed our order and our holy place will be a stronghold once more.”
All the priestesses showed their delight. “That is great news sister. And the Silures?”
One of the younger priestesses spoke for the first time, her small voice belying the power of her magic. “They are keen to go to war and it was all I could do to stop them attacking immediately.”
“The Belgae and the south western tribes are also eager to fight.”
“Sisters this is wonderful news.” She saw that the other priestesses did not look as pleased or comfortable. “And you sisters?”
“The elder of the four spoke. “They are too comfortable, too romanized. Many of the young warriors have joined Roman auxilia.”
“None will fight?”
“Some will fight but it will not be as here in the north or the west. They are happy in with the Roman presence. Some bands will fight and will cause disruption but the legions will not be drawn off as we had hoped.”
If they expected to be reproached they were disappointed. “You have done well sisters. Any rebellion, no matter how small will be as a stone thrown into a pond. It may be a small splash but the ripples travel a long way. Here in the north some of the northern tribes from Caledonia will join with the Brigante. In the north and west we are a mighty boulder. It will not be a ripple but a tidal wave which will sweep the Romans away and cleanse the land of their foul civilisation. Go back sisters. Our work will soon be complete. When Mona is free again we will meet there again.”
Eboracum
It was early spring and the first snowdrops had already erupted, sprinkled the landscape a sparkling white and now started to die. Daffodils, bluebells and hyacinths struggled to splash a hint of green in the grey and white landscape. Eboracum had grown considerably since Marcus had last been there. There was far more stonework and the ninth slept in heated brick built barracks. Best of all there was a bath house. Even though the three Pannonian commanders had not travelled far they were eager to partake of a bath, massage and oiling. When the three of them finally emerged they felt much cleaner and, somehow healthier.
The Governor had arranged a feast to celebrate the start of the campaign. The feast would follow a sacrifice of a bullock and, hopefully, the auspices would be good but as Rufius confided to Fabius and Marcus in the bath house. “A good leader leaves nothing to chance. I would expect nothing less than good omens.”
In this he was correct and the legionaries of the ninth roared their delight when the omens were pronounced to be good, and they would get to eat beef. They adored their Governor who had been their tribune and this was another sign that the gods were with them. He still led them, even though he commanded other troops, and they would have crossed the Alps barefoot if he had asked them.
The feast was a magnificent affair with delicacies sent from Rome and even further afield. The wines were the best available although Rufius found them a little rough for his taste. That may have been because the auxiliary officers were placed well away from the Governor and the legionary officers. He and Fabius rudely ignored the two prefects of Batavian infantry and their prima pilae. This suited Marcus for he enjoyed the company of Comi
nius Sura and Furius Strabo. For their part they were happier to discuss real campaigning with someone who had actually taken part in many campaigns and was fast becoming a legend.
“My men still revere you for the way you saved them at Stanwyck.”
“Do not worry Cominius there will come a time when your men will save us I doubt it not.”
“How do the Brigante fight? We did not really see them fight at Stanwyck.”
“They fight better now because they have adapted their style of fighting. They have seen how we fought. Remember that Queen Cartimandua was an ally of Claudius. They only fought us when her husband Venutius took over.”
“The Governor maintains that Venutius is still alive and he will defeat him.”
“He may say that but I knew Venutius and I saw him slain and burned. I think the Governor wants a big name as a trophy and King Maeve is barely known in his own lands let alone elsewhere.”
“Yes,” added Cominius, “my men captured a Brigante scout near Isurium he said much the same, under torture of course. The real power is held by a woman.”
“That makes sense,” agreed Marcus remembering the respect given not only to Cartimandua but also Lenta and Macha. “Unlike Rome they do not ignore their women.”
“I’d like to see them ignore my mother,” went on Furius whose red face had become even redder as he consumed vast quantities of both beer and wine. “She would have scared even my first spear.” They all laughed at the unconnected comment delivered by a huge man who was half asleep.
“Who is this woman then, the one who wields the power behind the scenes?”
“They say it is a witch.”
The hairs on the back of Marcus’ neck stood up and he suddenly became stone cold sober. “A witch you say? Did you hear a name?”
Cominius was less drunk than his companion who was now gently snoring into his cheese and bread and he too became more alert. “Why Marcus do you know of one?”
“There is a witch I seek who murdered Queen Cartimandua and tried to kill my commander and the Queen’s sisters. I swore an oath to my commander as he lay dying to bring her to justice.”
“Well this witch, I wish I could recall the name but it will come. This witch guides King Maeve and his right hand man Aed. It is said that it was her plan which resulted in the taking of Stanwyck and the trap that nearly ensnared my men.”
“Then I have another two reasons to wish her death.”
“Two?”
“Yes she caused the deaths of my wife and son.”
“I am sorry Marcus. That is a heavy load you bear.” He took another swallow of wine and then said, “Fainch! That was her name Fainch.”
Marcus nodded. “That confirms it then for the name I was given was Fainch.” He drew Cominius closer. “You can pay your debt to me if you give me information about her, should you hear anything.”
“Marcus we will do this for you but we do it as friends. We will still repay the debt.” They clasped arms as a symbolic bond. “Furius is a good fellow and I am sure he will help us. When he is sober.”
“Does that happen often?”
“Not very” and they both laughed so hard that Fabius and Rufius looked around in shock. Cominius laughed so hard he broke wind and the sound echoed around the room making the two men laugh even more.
Fabius said, in a voice loud enough to be heard, “Barbarians! How uncivilized.”
Cominius started to get up but Marcus restrained him and said in a voice only Cominius could hear. “Ignore him he’s all piss and wind, and not much of that either.” They both laughed again and Fabius reddened like a ripe water melon.
The next day there were more than a few sore heads although, surprisingly, Furius was not amongst that number. He ate more breakfast than anyone and consumed a flagon of ale before going into the briefing. He turned to Cominius and Marcus, “I tell you they might not have any wine worth more than horse’s piss but they brew the best ale I have supped since I came to this forsaken rock.”
“Sit down gentlemen. I hope you all enjoyed the feast.” He looked pointedly at Furius who just smiled beatifically and mouthed an “I did.” Shaking his head the Governor continued. “Today is the first day of the campaign. I want all units to muster at Stanwyck. I assume that the auxiliaries will be there first?” The three prefects nodded. “The legions will take longer to arrive. I would like three large camps built North West of Stanwyck; one for the auxiliaries and one each for the legions. I intend to begin the invasion before the local feast of Eostre.” They all looked at each other. “It is my belief that they will expect us to wait until after Eostre but I do not want to dilly dally. We strike hard and we strike quickly. No delays gentlemen. Our men are well fed, well trained and well prepared. We will be supplied throughout whereas the Brigante will not. I have my spies out and they talk of huge armies coming from the north. If we defeat these it may well put them off. Frontinus has not yet managed to subdue the west of the province. When we have defeated this barbarian army then Julius Agricola will take the twentieth to the west to help him. I intend to bring the new legion the second Adiutrix up from Lindum as a mobile reserve hence the presence of their prefect. Any questions?” For once even Rufius could think of no further questions. “Good. Rejoin your units and we meet at Stanwyck.”
Derventio
As soon as Marcus entered the fort he shouted his orders, “Officers and sergeants to the Praetorium.”
By the time he had dismounted and given Semias the goods he had purchased in Eboracum the room was beginning to fill up. He did not feel guilty about buying a few luxuries for if they were to campaign for any period then some small pleasures would make the harsh life more bearable. He looked around at their faces; they were eager and they were keen. “We leave the fort tomorrow.” He saw Decius collecting money from Macro and Lentius; he was incorrigible, you would never stop him gambling. “And I don’t think we will be returning here soon.” The last statement was important for all of the officers and men secreted money and precious objects. They were safe in the fort for no soldier would steal from another but if they were away for any time then it would not be safe. “Tell the men after this briefing. Porcius make sure we have plenty of wagons and mules. Take all of the supplies; our relief will be bringing their own.”
“Relief sir?” asked Porcius.
“Yes quarter master a century of Batavians. Don’t worry I have seen their commander they will look after the fort and they will dismantle the gyrus.” He saw Agrippa and Macro exchange sad looks. “Do not worry gentlemen it served its purpose for have we not the best trained ala in the whole of Britannia? Now on to more serious matters. We will be operating as an ala of ten turmae. Decurion Princeps Fabius Demetrius will command the other ten turmae as a separate ala. This gives the general two cavalry units instead of one.” There was a pause and an intake of breath. Marcus milked the moment taking a drink from the beaker of wine on the table. “The prefect will accompany Demetrius.” The grins told him more than a chorus of whoops would have done. “It does, however leave us with a problem. We have five turmae without decurions. I assume Decius that we have a couple we can promote?”
“Well I don’t know about that. There aren’t that many experienced troopers left. There are a bunch of recruits who might turn out to be officer material but…”
He left the sentence hanging in the air and the nods of the others showed that they concurred. “I agree so here is my plan. The two sergeants Macro and Cato will each take on the role of acting decurion.” He silenced their protests with the flat of his hand. “The recruits are used to taking orders from you and I have made my decision. Quartermaster I would like you to act as a decurion for a while you too are used to giving orders and that is more important than anything else. These are temporary arrangements until we get to Stanwyck. I will say however that the prefect wished me to appoint some troopers from turma eleven; I told him we could cope.”
Metellus said, “We would be better off wit
h recruits than that criminal rabble!”
“Quite. So I would like you to watch the men in your turmae on the journey and while we are packing and setting up camp. Identify possible decurions and we will make more decisions at Stanwyck.” He looked at them weighing up his next words carefully.”I also found out some interesting news. The witch Fainch who was responsible for the death of the Queen was also involved in the murders of Lenta, Macha and, “there was a catch in his voice as he added, “my son. She is also advising the Brigante and appears to be behind this latest rebellion.” There was a stunned silence. “Just thought you ought to know.”
“Sort of makes it personal doesn’t it?” The others murmured their agreement with Decius.
“One last thing when we reach Stanwyck we also have to build the legionaries a fort.” They all groaned and began moaning. “Governor’s orders.”
There was a silence and as they left Decius just grunted, “Screw the Governor.”
Before he could be reprimanded Macro said, “No thank you sir there is a mule outside that will do.”
Stanwyck
“The auxiliaries have done a fine job with the forts eh Julius?”
“I don’t think it has endeared us to them Governor.”
“What do you mean?”
“I think they feel as though they are being treated as lesser soldiers than the legions.”
Cerialis looked thunderstruck. “But they are. They are only there to support the legions. Without the legions there is no need for auxiliaries.”
Agricola sighed, the Governor was ever the military man, blunt and to the point, “I might agree sir but you might have phrased it differently.”
The Governor thought for a moment. “Would the result have been the same?”
“Well yes.”
“There you are then I have saved time. Now then where do we think the Brigante army is?”
Agricola was on firmer ground here. “The major Brigante settlement is Brocavum. I fought them there last time.”