by JB Michaels
Michaela walked to the largest patch of straw. She began throwing the straw to the side in a digging motion.
“Pick a patch of straw and remove it,” Michaela ordered.
Magnus moved to help her with the largest patch.
“Men, split up and pick a patch to clear.”
The straw was densely packed and heavier than Magnus had anticipated. The straw was deep, at least two licks.
“I fear for what may be buried beneath this straw, Michaela,” Magnus said.
“Fear not what you see buried in this hole but what caused the hole.”
“Oh no,” Brayden said.
“Here is the missionary.” Cassius put his forearm to his nose and mouth.
Michaela and Magnus finished clearing the large patch of straw. The contents of the land’s indentation were Roman soldiers whose bodies were trampled and forced down into the ground. Some of the bodies were face up, their shoulders partially buried. Their fingers were visible in the dirt. Tips of spears and swords and sword handles were strewn about. Roman shields with emblazoned eagles were cracked and in pieces. Worms and insects feasted on the exposed body parts and didn’t seem to care that the straw had been removed.
Magnus pulled a legionary’s helmet from the earth. The helmet had been crushed into something one could drink from. The size of a chalice.
The devastation in the clearing bared itself with each straw pile’s removal. Some thirty Roman legionaries and a priest crushed and driven three licks into the ground.
Chapter Six
Magnus’s eyes closed. His shoulders slumped. His chest heaved. Sadness, rage, and disgust filtered through him in waves. The most lingering emotion he could distill and focus on was the anger. He walked a few paces towards the woods, away from the clearing and the great oak tree.
Michaela followed him. “I assure you, Roman. We know not of what happened here.”
“Am I to believe you, a woman whom I’ve just met? Roman soldiers are dead. Gruesomely driven into the dirt of your pagan sanctuary. Pardon me for not wholly giving of my trust.” Magnus wiped sweat from his brow with his forearm then turned to face her.
“What reason would I have to bring you here and show you the dead, if my people were guilty of the massacre? Where is the sense in that?” Michaela’s furrowed brow foreshadowed a possible fury should Magnus continue his refusal to listen.
“I will speak no more of this. I will conduct my investigation of this matter as I please. I will be back with more of my men to properly take care of my dead brethren. I am not asking permission. Romanus, ride to Tiberius and send more men. We are returning to your village.”
“You shall be allowed to gather your dead. Then you must leave.” Michaela stared coldly into the centurion’s eyes.
“Very well. Men, let’s ride back to the village and wait for Romanus to return.” Magnus scanned the Druid sanctuary once more. He memorized the location and secretly prayed to the gods for safe passage of the dead to the afterlife.
A few hours passed. Magnus waited at the crest of the hill that overlooked the Pict village. Michaela had no reason to trust him. He could clearly see the Pict scouts watching him and Brayden. Cassius had been sent to follow Romanus with revised orders. The Pict spies were not hidden from the windows of the stone and straw homes, nor were the stones that dotted the landscape proper cover for the prone Pict acolytes. In the distance, from the direction of Hadrian’s wall, Romanus and Cassius rode together.
Magnus patted his horse’s neck. “Upon nightfall, Brayden, I want you and Cassius to take out their war chariots and stables. Torch them after you examine their wheels for blood and flesh. Something trampled our men. By then, Tiberius and the rest of our century should be in place.”
“Yes sir.” Brayden nodded.
“After you torch their chariots, take twenty men and cut off their retreat into the woods. Then await my order to invade. The flaming arrow will serve as your signal.” Magnus dismounted his horse and untied the blanket from his waist. His breastplate darkened with the light of dusk. He awaited the rest of his armor.
Romanus and Cassius rode up the hill to meet them.
Romanus dropped a sack to the ground. “Tiberius and the rest of the men march not far behind. They should be here after dark has settled in. Here is your helmet and the rest of your armor, sir.”
“Thank you, Romanus. Rid yourselves of the blanket and secure your armor.”
“If you don’t mind me saying, sir, should we fasten our armor in the open? The Picts watch us,” Brayden said.
Magnus picked up and brushed the hair on the crest of his centurion helmet. “It is of no matter. They know we are Romans. The agreement with Michaela was more soldiers to secure our dead. No need to hide. The time for stealth and careful investigation is at an end.”
Chapter Seven
Torches dotted the pathways of the Pict village. Magnus enjoyed the view of the peaceful, serene village. If only it would have remained that way. The moonlight showed the grassy plains on the opposite hillside away from the village. The Roman century marched to their objective.
“Tiberius approaches. Once we lay siege to the village, gather the largest of their Pict men and any weapons they possess. It would not surprise me if you find hammers and other bludgeoning weapons,” Magnus said.
“Very well,” Romanus responded.
“Cassius and Brayden, time to take out their stables and chariots. Move swiftly. Their spies have assuredly seen our men marching to the village,” Magnus ordered.
“On our way.”
Brayden and Cassius were men of considerable strength and vigor. They hadn’t seen much in the way of all-out war. A few minor rebellions quelled. Still, their experiences helped forge their friendship. Tonight’s task proved the most dangerous. They rode swiftly and wide to the right side of the village. The stables were stationed in the northeast corner of the village. The way was clear of Picts. No resistance.
Cassius rode alongside his friend. “Bray, no sentries on duty. Should we be concerned?”
“We should be very concerned, but we have orders. There’s a chariot. I will dismount and examine the chariot then grab the nearest torch. Hold my reins.” Brayden jumped off his horse and rolled in the grass. He crept to the chariot which was positioned next to an open-air stable with only three horses.
Cassius kept watch from his mount. He held Bray’s horse back. There was absolutely no movement. No sounds emanated from the northeast corner of the village. Cassius shook his head and hoped for some stirring as the current situation did little to ease his dread.
Brayden held his dagger in his right hand and approached the war chariot. Moonlight illuminated most of the terrestrial weapon. He ran his hand over the large white bronze wheels. Nothing but dirt blemished them. The wicker and wooden frame appeared as if it had just been washed clean. The throne at the center of the wagon looked pristine and new. This chariot did not bear any evidence of battle use. Brayden figured the chariot was Michaela’s and thus, was carefully maintained. Still, the vessel didn’t bear the attributes necessary to smash Roman soldiers three licks deep into the ground.
“Bray. The path,” Cassius warned and pulled the horses farther back from the village perimeter.
Brayden looked to the path. Three Pict men walked toward the stable and his location. He crouched low behind the chariot, sheathed his dagger, then pulled his gladius. Their heavy footfalls drew near. He hoped to let them pass. He gripped his short sword tight and took a deep breath.
Chapter Eight
A drunken male burped. “We should have just stayed the night. Rather than traipse all the way back like a bunch of fools acting as f-fodder for the wolves.”
“Nonsense! I am fine, Tom. How ‘bout you, Gar?” one of the men said, sounding less drunk than Tom.
If Brayden needed to silence these men, it would be with ease. He could smell the beer on them as they drew much closer.
Brayden held his breath and remain
ed still. He could see the men’s legs through the spokes of the wheel.
“That is a fine chariot. Look at her.” One of the men stopped.
The other two staggered up to the side of the chariot.
Brayden’s eyes widened.
“Look at this craftsmanship. I wonder who could do such fine work. Surely only an Iceni craftsman could do such fine work!” one man bragged.
“Oh no, I am going to be sick…” Another man gurgled.
“Tom, do not puke on my work.”
Tom grabbed the wheel and put his head down. He vomited. Then looked up.
Brayden didn’t waste any time. The tip of his gladius struck Tom’s throat. Blood poured onto the white bronze. He gurgled more and more. The other two likely thought he still vomited.
“Tom. Just let it out. Don’t struggle.”
Tom fell to the ground. The other two men bent to examine their friend.
“Tom. Tom. Get up. We have a ways to walk.”
Brayden sprang up from behind the chariot. He must have looked like a ghostly phantom in the moonlight. He thrust his sword into the rib cage of one of the other men. Brayden struggled to pull the sword from the second man he felled.
The other man opened his mouth to scream when Cassius’s spear struck him in the chest. Brayden used his foot to remove the sword from Gar’s rib cage, then finished off the possible screamer with yet another stab to the throat.
“The vomiting one noticed me, Cassius.” Brayden shook his head.
“Never mind that now. Grab the torch from the stable entrance and set this chariot alight.” Cassius pulled his spear from the Iceni tribesman’s chest.
“We have to hurry back and report to Magnus then take men back here to cut off their retreat.” Brayden ran down the path and grabbed the nearest torch. His armor clanked and made noise, but the time to worry had passed. He brought the torch to the chariot and dropped it onto the throne.
Cassius pulled the three dead men behind the chariot. The torch’s flames spread. The chariot succumbed to the intense elemental force. It wouldn’t be long until the Pict warriors emerged to wage their defense.
Chapter Nine
Magnus rode to Tiberius at the bottom of the hill.
“They don’t expect a full century, although now they assuredly know. They have not readied any battlements or warriors. This shall prove an easy and quick evening’s work. We shall gather their largest men and examine their weaponry,” Magnus said.
“Yes, something had to have caused our men to be crushed. I understand, Magnus. I will ready the archers.” Tiberius stood with full armor readied.
“Send one flaming arrow into one of the straw rooftops. That will signal to Brayden to ready his men. He is to take twenty and cut off a possible retreat into the woods.”
“Where are Brayden and Cassius?” Tiberius asked.
Hooves pounded the ground above them at the top of the hill.
“Speak of the devil.” Tiberius pointed.
“Speak of the what?” Magnus looked confused atop his horse.
Brayden and Cassius rode to them.
“The chariot was pristine. No evidence it was used in the massacre. Of course, it could have been cleaned. Magnus, I don’t think the chariots could have done what we saw in the sanctuary.”
“Did you torch it as ordered? Were there any other chariots?” Magnus asked.
“No, we only saw one, and we had to kill three drunken Picts. They were too close and would have seen us,” Brayden answered.
“That is of no matter. There will be many more dead Picts before the night ends. Take men and cut off their possible retreat. I want to make sure we can conduct a thorough investigation. Tiberius. It’s time.”
Brayden gathered his troops and marched on the double-quick.
Tiberius readied the rest of the men, seventy-nine strong, and marched up the hill. They took position at the top and looked down at the Pict village. Magnus watched for Brayden and his twenty men to make considerable distance to their position.
“Tiberius, have an archer ready one flaming arrow and shoot it down into one of their straw huts. On my mark.” Magnus raised his hand.
“Magnus, look.” Tiberius pointed at the main pathway into the village.
Magnus observed Michaela walking alone with a torch in her hand towards them. “What is she doing?”
“Perhaps she wants to prevent her village from being razed. Perhaps we should listen to what she has to say. She is brave to walk alone,” Tiberius said.
“Tiberius, temper your Christian tendencies. She is not to be trusted. Watch our flanks. She could be a distraction. I shall see what she says.”
Her torch grew larger the higher she ascended the hill.
“The agreement was a small dispatch of soldiers to gather your dead.” The warrior queen came to them with her finest linen and a crossbow strapped to her back.
“We number only one hundred in total. We didn’t come to terms on what small means,” Magnus answered from his mounted and superior position atop his horse in case she attempted any attack.
“We do not want any violence. I will cooperate with your investigation within reason. What is it that you want?” Michaela pressed.
“We want justice to be served per Roman law. I want to question your fiercest warriors and largest men. I need to examine the weapons at your disposal as well.”
“Very well. I assure you, our capabilities, though strong, could not have done that to your men.”
“We shall investigate ourselves and will not take counsel from you. Certainly, a biased party who is also suspect.”
“Your original troops didn’t listen to my counsel, and look what happened to them?”
“That begets that you know more than you have led me to believe.”
“I warned them to leave the sanctuary alone. The priest wanted to destroy the stones and clear the sanctuary of any trace of the old religion. They didn’t listen. These parts have very different customs and beliefs than yours. I am seeking peace with you as is the Christian way. Is it not?”
“She has a point, Magnus,” Tiberius chimed in.
“Tomorrow morning, we commence the investigation. Your largest men. Your weapons laid bare. Bring them out to the perimeter of the village for examination. Romanus, recall Brayden and his men.”
“Michaela! Come quick! A fire!” a man yelled from the village.
“You fool! What have you done?” Michaela glared at Magnus and then ran down the hill.
Chapter Ten
Magnus observed the northeast corner light up in flames. “The chariot fire has spread. They may have found the bodies too. Alas, they are probably badly burned at this point.”
“That may complicate matters. Shall we send men to help, sir? Perhaps as an olive branch.” Tiberius looked to his centurion.
“It could have been an accidental conflagration caused by inebriated men. We shall deny it.”
Tiberius didn’t say a word.
“Have the men rest. We shan’t help. If the village burns, it burns.” Magnus made sure to see Brayden, Romanus, and the twenty soldiers making their way back to the hilltop.
Dawn’s light hit the village. Smoke still billowed from the stable. Michaela and a group of her villagers were able to stop the spread of the fire the night before by knocking down the stable, stacking stone, then soaking the ground and flames with whatever water they had in the village. The firefighters and Michaela conversed in the center of the village.
“You mean to cooperate with the Romans who nearly burned our village to the ground!” a burly older male yelled.
“We have no evidence they caused the fire. There were three charred bodies. They could have started the fire themselves. I don’t want war. The Romans will commence their investigation then leave.”
“Seamus saw at least twenty soldiers near the corner of the village where the fire raged.”
“Conor, did he see the Romans start the fire?” Michaela asked.
“No.”
“Then let’s get this Roman intrusion over with. Do we know who the three bodies were? Is everyone accounted for?”
“So far, no one has reported any missing, which makes me think it was the three visiting Iceni men who brought your new chariot yesterday.”
“The Iceni will surely investigate their missing men. Send someone to explain the situation. We don’t need any conflict with them,” Michaela ordered.
“I shall gather our scattered horses and go myself,” Conor said.
“The rest of you, lay your weapons down at the front of the village. Every warrior should present themselves to the Romans.”
“Michaela, we have just begun our study of Yeshua. You can’t expect all the men to lay down their arms so willingly as this Yeshua would.”
Michaela took a heaving, deep breath and stared at Conor. “At their queen’s order, they shall.”
Magnus observed the Pict warriors pour out of the village. Some three hundred of them dropped their weapons into a large pile, then stood in a line shoulder to shoulder per Michaela’s direction.
“Tiberius, take their largest men with us back to the governor. We may need to destroy the pile of weapons,” Magnus ordered.
“Magnus, you only asked for her largest men, and she has brought the village’s entire army. She, in good faith, clearly thinks you will submit to reason and seek other answers to the mystery of what happened to our men,” Tiberius said, rubbing his chin.