by John Salter
Work had already begun to replace the charcoaled embers of the forts wall that still smoked along what was once the strong fortress of Vespasian. Axes were used to fell what remained of the walls and carts were piled high with blackened wood. Soldiers were busily cutting down trees in the nearby forest as heavy infantry and cavalry watched on in case of attack. The soldiers on guard moved their feet trying to keep them warm whilst warm breath came from man and beast alike.
Vespasian walked along the path at the river’s edge and surveyed the damaged to the supply vessels. He could barely contain his anger once more. The Britons had been allowed to get aboard the ice bound ships, there had been no alarm raised by those on-board, the sentries who in all likelihood were dead before the first flames caught.
“What supplies did we lose?” He asked the senior centurion by his side.
“Everything sir,” he replied, “What didn’t go down is either burned or soaked wet through. There will be amphora’s we can save I’m sure but we’ll have to do something about all the grain we’ve lost.”
Vespasian looked along the side of the river where only the day before a symbol of Rome had lay at anchor. Five ships were now submerged their bows fully below the waterline and two others listed awkwardly. The remaining two had only partially survived the attack as the thick ropes that secured them to the bank were still intact as the Britons had failed to cut or burn them.
“We’ll have to report this and ask for supplies as soon as possible. The remaining stores will see us through for a few days and if need be we can go on half rations. Those fools were lucky they died aboard the ships because if they had survived, I’d have had them crucified for negligence.”
A naval officer approached and saluted, Vespasian recognised him as the captain of the lead ship and commander of the small fleet. He wore a blue cloak as was traditional for naval men, the colour sacred to Neptune.
“Report.” Vespasian ordered.
“We may be able to salvage something of the vessels sir but without a dry dock and with this weather it’s going to be very difficult. I’ve lost twenty one marines, three on each ship when the attack occurred and more later. As things stand I have received no reports as to how they were able to get aboard. Given the sentries on the forts walls and the men on-board, I would say that they approached over the frozen ice and the woods beyond. Without any survivors I can’t be certain but I’d bet a thousand gold coins that’s what happened.”
“Very well keep me informed, give my condolences to the men, I’m sure those on-board died bravely given the circumstances.” Vespasian said and dismissed the naval officer and turned to return to the fort. “Perhaps crucifixion would have been a bit hard considering the conditions.” He looked back at the charred wrecks. “We need to salvage whatever we can from this mess and we need to start on constructing a proper harbour area that’s secure with a dry dock. I think that in future we’ll make sure that any supply ships are docked at the sea harbour and the contents brought in by wagons. I’m not going to let this happen again, I let my guard down and we paid for it but it could have been worse.” The centurion looked at him. “If those barbarian butchers had got into the fort it would have been a complete blood bath. The palisades did the job they were meant to do thank the gods. I want them dug deeper and wider however, with cal traps hidden under the foliage and I want the guard doubled around the fort for the foreseeable future.”
“Yes sir.” The centurion acknowledged.
“Right let’s get back inside and get cleaned up, we must both reek like smoked fish.” Vespasian said turning and heading back to the main entrance where work still went on and would for some time to come.
Some miles to the north, Varro led his small group of ten through the snow filled countryside. They looked like ordinary Britons as they followed the trail left by Caratacus and his army. It wasn’t difficult as they had left foot and hoof prints and wheel tracks on the trail and either side, so wide had been their force. They hadn’t found any bodies which meant if any others had died, they were carrying them with them.
They had slowed to a walk sometime before not wanting to exhaust their mounts and their disguises would only work if they could avoid contact with the locals, racing north after a war band would only bring suspicion. Brenna and her brother would do any talking that was necessary but they knew their subterfuge wouldn’t last forever. The cold was biting into their limbs even though they were covered in thick skins. Hoods guarded their heads but didn’t keep out either the cold or snow entirely.
Varro shouted over to Brenna, “We should find somewhere to rest for a while, make a fire and warm up. The trail won’t disappear for days with this frost on the ground. We’re in no hurry and anyone seeing us would find it suspicious if we were found following their path.”
“Very well,” she replied, “we’ll continue until we find somewhere suitable to shelter and get a fire going and some hot food, we’ll feel much better after that.”
“Agreed.” He said, he estimated that the retreating force were at most, half a day’s ride ahead. The mission was to find out where the attackers settlement was and to report back, avoiding all contact with them if possible. There was no point rushing and walking into a trap from which they no doubt would not return.
After a while they came to a small copse in a valley, it was out of the wind that had begun to develop on top of the freezing temperatures and snow, it was the last thing they needed. The snow barely covered the ground under the trees due to the thick cover overhead, as soon as they arrived and tied their animals up they went in search of suitable pieces of wood for a fire.
“Let’s get it going as soon as possible and don’t worry about the smoke, we’re just travellers caught in the storm if anyone finds us, if anyone else is stupid enough to be out in this.” Varro said looking around, “Which I doubt.”
It took a while for the flames to catch thanks to the damp wood but after a while it dried off. Later with the fire roaring and preparations made to heat salted pork and vegetables they had brought with them, they settled in and waited to see if the weather changed, it didn’t. As it was getting late they decided to pitch camp for the night so they huddled next to each other under blankets watching the snow fall from the grey sky as the fire began to cast shadows from the surrounding trees.
Just before the sun fell beyond the horizon, somewhere to the west under a snow filled sky, Caratacus and Ardwen led their army up the final valley path and into the beginnings of the settlement at the top of the mountain. They passed the cultivated areas where crops were grown on the flatter levels inside the huge basin and eventually the first roundhouse came into view. People came out to greet them and scurried about looking for loved ones searching desperately. Those related to the injured ran to the rear while those related to the dead were either struck dumb with shock or began to wail when they were told the news.
It took some time for the entire column to reach the settlement and by the time the final carts were rumbling along slowly past the roundhouse where Ardwen, Caratacus and the elders were, they were already in fresh dry clothes with warm soup in their bellies.
The dead were honoured and a total of eleven families now grieved. More had died in the wagons on the way back with four others seriously injured through sword or arrow wounds. There were more who were walking wounded but in time they would recover to fight again. It was decided that it would be inappropriate to celebrate the raids success for the time being and with everyone exhausted from either travelling or worrying about those out on the road, most settled down in their homes and simply went to sleep.
Caratacus and Ardwen however, together with a few elders stayed awake long into the night quietly discussing their next move, what strategy would they employ next, now that they knew they could defeat the invaders. They knew that Vespasian would want to avenge the humiliation of the attack and drew up plans to counter them and take the fight to the Roman officer and his Legion. They drank mead and fina
lly relaxed as the snow continued to fall covering everything on the mountain home.
Early the next morning a long time before the sun rose, Varro awoke shivering. He was curled up at Brenna’s side with Tevelgus her brother curled into a ball under his cloak beyond her. He turned to find Decimus’ face partly hooded behind him, snow covered him still snoring oblivious to the conditions. He sat up and saw that the fire was still smouldering just and pushed himself up to his knees and stood up. Brenna groaned but turned and went back to sleep under an arm unknowingly put out by Decimus.
He stood and stretched, shivering, seeing that even more snow had fallen during the night, outside the copse it was a few feet deep now. He could however, see clearly for some way, thanks to the white all around despite the lingering darkness. He collected fallen branches and twigs from the ground under the trees and put them by the fire to dry. He broke and twisted others from low branches, pulling the leaves off, brushing the snow away and set them down beside the fire. The wood cracked as it dried and smelt quite rank. He sat down on a log, one of the few they had found the night before and stared into the falling snow.
“Humph.” Someone sighed stirring behind him. He turned to see Decimus had opened his eyes.
“Fuck a pig it’s freezing.” He said blinking himself awake, he saw Brenna and smiled, “Hello couldn’t resist could you?” He said to her sleeping face, she murmured something and opened her eyes, frowned and then suddenly sat up. Her cloak fell away and she quickly raised it round her shoulders, looking round.
“More snow then?” She said sleepily.
Varro threw another stick on the fire, “It’s a good job we found this place when we did or we’d be a few feet under it by now. Outside the copse it’s at least two feet deep, the trees kept most of it off us. It’s still freezing though as Decimus so articulately pointed out.”
She looked at him with just his eyes peeping out from his cloak wrapped round his head, “Yes I heard him dreaming last night he was talking and blabbering in his sleep about his love for a huge fat pig called porky or something. He said people wanted to slaughter and eat it but he was saying that he had grown up with it and wanted it to marry him instead.” She raised her eyebrows and smiled. “Is it traditional for you Romans to have romantic relationships with your bacon?”
“Ho, ho fucking ho.” Decimus replied from under his cloak. “I’ll have you know there are some very attractive young swine where I come from.” He looked from her to Varro. “Not just pigs either, horses and even cows are known to marry their men folk and when they get too old, you eat them and get another.” He struggled up and got to his feet, “I find it makes for a quieter life than a human female. They don’t nag nearly as much and when you tire of them, you eat them, simple.” He turned and walked away from the growing fire.
“It wouldn’t surprise me if you’re not joking.” Brenna said watching him as he stood away from the group rummaging with his tunic.
“You see what I mean? A man can’t even take an early morning piss without being disturbed by a woman.” He turned laughing as others in their group began to stir.
Quintus said, “Keep that steaming thing away from my horse will you? I don’t want you getting any ideas and ruining her mind. If she catches sight of that mouldy little maggot, I may never get her to breed again.”
Decimus half turned, “Ha-ha don’t worry I wouldn’t want my fleshy sword going where yours has been anyway, it may never work again afterwards and imagine how upset all the females would be?”
They all laughed as the others got to their feet still wrapped in their cloaks. They prepared a bowl of lentils and chestnuts sweetened with honey and warmed themselves around the fire.
“It’s going to be near impossible to track those fuckers in this snow.” Quintus said blowing on a hot spoon full of food.
“The only way to do it is to keep clearing the snow and checking the tracks underneath. If we knew this area and where the tracks went, it wouldn’t be too bad but as it is we’re as good as lost.” Tevelgus said adding, “The winters in Britannia don’t always provide snow but when they do, it can be here for days, weeks even. Crops are buried and people die if they wander far from their homes, we always stay close when this happens and stay by our fires.”
Varro finished his bowl of food, “Well one thing is certain, our friend Caratacus isn’t staying by the fire but I agree with what you say. The other thing is that if the snow stops falling and the skies clear we’ll be seen for miles in this white blanket if we’re caught out in the open. Anyone would see us coming from miles away.” He stood up and rinsed his wooden spoon using a leather water skin.
“The question now then is what do we do? If we can’t risk going forward, dare we risk trying to find our way back to the fort, things look totally different normally when you try and retrace your steps but when they’re covered in snow it’s a different thing altogether.” Decimus said.
Quintus put in, “How do you think we would be received if we did go back and we had no information about the enemy position. I know the good General Vespasian is a fair man but I don’t think he’d take too kindly to us turning up empty handed and with no information.”
“I think your right,” Varro said, “but I also believe he would understand given the circumstances.” He returned to his upturned tree log and sat down. “The other alternative is to wait a while and see if it clears,” He added looking up at the sky through the branches of the trees, “we’ve got food enough to last two more days but after that we’d have to find our own or another settlement.”
“And we’d be out of fresh clothes but that I can deal with for a while,” Added Quintus, “after that I don’t want my balls rotting and swelling like some stinky Briton.”
Tevelgus laughed, “Ha-ha, and I wouldn’t want the small round rotten berries that you carry about down there anyway.” He said pointing to Quintus’ groin, they all chuckled.
“Right,” Varro said, “we’ll wait here another day and see what things look like tomorrow, if it’s still snowing we’ll think about heading back. In the meantime let’s make a better shelter and see if we can find anything nearby worth hunting.” He walked to where he’d left his bow, “Quintus, you look after things here, I’ll take Brenna, Decimus, Lucius and Marcus and see if we can find anything better for dinner.” He looked at Tevelgus, “If you stay here with Quintus and his men in case any Britons turn up and do the talking.” He nodded in agreement.
“Good, let’s get cleaned up and see if there’s anything out there.” he said as they prepared to move.
Sometime later and north of their temporary camp, the five hunters dismounted from their horses. They hadn’t seen anything so far, nothing moved in the snow it seemed.
“We’ll leave them here” he said referring to the horses, “and go on foot for a while, tie them to these trees if we kick the snow away at least they can get something to eat.” He said brushing the deep snow aside with his boot where he had tied Staro, they all did the same. Having secured their mounts they moved off following Varro, he and two others carrying bows. They crunched through the snow and entered a wooded area and eventually came to a clearing. They stood still for a moment and listened but all that achieved was tingling feet. Varro was about to give up when the briefest of movement caught his eye.
“There,” He whispered crouching, the others following his gaze, “can you see anything?” He asked. Brenna strained her eyes looking in the direction he was now pointing towards, “What was it, I can’t see anything moving?”
“A deer, I just caught it’s white tail against its back as it moved away to the left.” He said now whispering. “Follow me slowly.” He lifted his feet carefully and walked forward, the virgin snow was softer here but still made a slight crunching noise in their footfalls. Instinctively they all began crouching as they moved searching the cold white woods. Varro found the deer’s hoof prints and waved the others on grinning. A short time later he saw that the prints got lon
ger with more space between the front and rear hooves.
“It looks like it started to run here.” He looked around. “Something may have startled it, maybe it picked up our scent.”
Brenna examined the prints and whispered, “It’s the only thing we’ve seen since we left.” She looked up following the direction of their quarries travel. “If it sensed us, it will be long gone, if it was something else that startled it,” she looked around, “we could be in trouble.”
Varro looked into her dark eyes and then about at the ground around them, he indicated with his hand for them to crouch lower. Pointing to his eyes he looked at Decimus and directed that he should advance to an outcrop where a tall oak stood with Marcus and to see if they could find anything. As the rest of them crouched lower still into the snow, they watched as the two soldiers moved to the area that Varro had indicated.
The woods were quiet, very quiet and Varro noticed that it had just stopped snowing. He kept his eyes on the men as they carefully made their way over fallen branches and through the grounded snow. Something wasn’t right, he didn’t know what it was but sensed something, as if he should be able to see what it was that had spooked the deer.
“This isn’t right.” He whispered to Brenna who was at his side. She didn’t look at him but kept scanning the woods to the front.