by Griff Hosker
“Yes I know sir but we were only a handful then and, well, we knew what we were doing.”
“Ah. That is it. Well firstly Cassius we are the only cavalry here at the moment and so we are the handful. Would you have us in one place, perhaps forty miles from a problem? By the time we arrived, it would all be over.” Cassius could see the wisdom there; he was not happy but he would live with it. He bit his tongue to prevent himself from asking the question he had meant to ask. Livius knew his second in command and answered it anyway. “You are worried about the decurions are you not and the lack of experience amongst the whole ala?”
Cassius sighed with relief. “Yes sir. I mean most of them are new and have not the experience.”
“You mean like Marcus and Macro?”
Quickly Cassius replied. “Oh no sir. They are good officers and they will lead their men well, I am not worried about those two.”
“But they are the youngest and they are new are they not? Both only recently promoted.” Livius almost hated himself for playing with his loyal and faithful friend.
“Yes sir, but…”
“But they served with us and you know them, that is the idea in your head is it not?.” There was a silence as Cassius took in the painful truth. He did not know the new officers. The ala had been thrown into the melting pot quickly and promotions had had to be made. Livius put his hand on Cassius’ arm. “They are good officers and we promoted them because they showed, as we did, the potential for leadership. They will make mistakes, as we did, which is why I am putting you, Metellus, Rufius, Macro and Marcus as one of the turma in five of the pairs. That way the five of you can pass on your experience. I will keep the least experienced, Graccus with me. That will just leave Calgus and Spurius. They are the most experienced of the others.” he paused. “Satisfied?”
Grinning Cassius replied, “Yes sir. Sorry I am an old woman.”
“No you are right to question my judgement and as my adjutant you need to know my reasoning. Now, “he waved his arm at the land through which they were travelling, “what do you think of the site I have chosen?”
Cassius looked at the land which rose towards the north and the barbarian’s lands. They had travelled steadily north west from Coriosopitum. They had forded the Tinea and passed what Cassius had thought was a perfect site for a fort, a knoll above the Tinea. Livius had pointed out that it was too close to Corio and they needed somewhere closer to the middle. Now, ten miles further on Cassius could see that Livius had thought this through well. The land to the north fell sharply away leaving them with an uninterrupted view of both the river crossing and the Votadini border. “Just up there is it?” His soldier’s eye had picked out the high point which had enough flat land for construction. Livius nodded. “Should be about right then sir. There are enough small trees to provide wood for the buildings. I can see enough stones lying on the surface to give us some foundations and there is water close by.” he rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “The grazing looks to be good but this is high up. We may struggle when the snows come.”
“Those were my worries too. Still we will cross that bridge when we get to it. Come let us begin to build our fort.”
The ala set to with a will. Every trooper was accustomed to building a camp each day but this one would be a little more permanent. That meant that they worked harder knowing that they would not have to repeat it the following day. With one turma on guard the rest set to digging the double ditch and piling the spoil to make the ramp. Inside, Septimus and his cooks erected the tent whilst Julius Frontinus, the ala clerk. fussed to ensure that everything was as it should be. Where there was, for a while, chaos and disorder, soon the shape of the camp became clearer. As soon as the stakes were buried in the rampart it looked like every identical Roman camp being built by soldiers the Empire over.
Cassius noticed the sun beginning to set. “Sir I don’t think we will get the gates finished tonight.”
“You are right. Get the cooks to prepare the food and use the four carts we brought as temporary gates. Make sure the horses are picketed and well guarded. We would look stupid it the horse thieves set us afoot.” The Votadini envied the Roman mounts and would risk anything to get hold of cavalry mounts.
“Sir.” Cassius bustled away, happy now that they had walls around them.
Macro and Marcus had not had time to hunt and Septimus was forced to use dried meat for the evening meal. Although not as good as their normal fare it filled the hungry bellies of the exhausted men. He had already spotted the stones he would use to build his bread oven and even seen the hollow, just outside the fort, which he would use to site the necessary fire risk.
That evening, as the decurions sat in what would become the command tent until the Principia could be built, they listened as Livius outlined his plans. “You will all have three nights here in the fort until it has been completed and then, I am afraid you will be away from Septimus and his fine food.” The cook was within hearing distance and he saluted Livius with his ladle. “This will not be temporary, this is the future.” He waved to Julius who had been hovering nearby. He brought out a beautifully marked map which he had been preparing for months. He spread it on the floor and stood with a pointer waiting for Livius to speak. “We are here at er...“he struggled for a name for the fort and looking at the ground to the south had sudden inspiration, “Rocky Point. Rufius and Antoninus will take the eastern end, towards Coriosopitum, Drusus and Macro will take the next section followed by myself and Graccus, Calgus and Spurius will be further west, then Marcus and Lucius, Metellus and Cicero and finally Cassius and Decius. You will each have friends on both flanks. Rufius and Cassius will have forts whilst the rest of you will have two turmae. You need to build your own camps and operate from them. You will all have a box of land to patrol from the Stanegate to the south, your friends east and west and the barbarians to the north. Keep in touch with your fellows.” He stopped and looked at them all to make the point. “If you do not see your neighbours for more than a day then assume they have been killed and send a rider back to me.”
They all looked at each other; it was a sombre and uncompromising message their leader had delivered. The ala was really on the wild frontier now. Rufius raised his hand, “Sir. What if we find trouble?”
“Good question. We need to stop incursions from the north and prevent raids on the Stanegate. You will all have at least fifty men each and you should be able to stop them. Anything larger and one turma shadows while the other spreads the word to the others. You all know where the others will be, find them and then we can gather quickly. The Governor is sending us a century of auxiliaries raised amongst the Brigante to act as guards for Rocky Point and that means that I will not be tied here and,“ he smiled, “Julius will have his protection.”
Sniffing Julius rolled up the map. “Quite right too!” As he strode his way back to his tent the decurions burst out laughing. Cassius caught Livius’ eye and nodded. The decurions would do.
*******
“You and the Emperor were right about young Livius.” Falco suddenly realised that he had criticised the Emperor by implication and began to bluster. “What I mean…”
Julius smiled and held up his hand. “Pompeius if we are going to worry over every nuance and word in our conversations then we will get nowhere.” He leaned forward. “We have to trust each other implicitly or we shall fail.”
“You are right Julius. I spent too long in Rome worrying if the hand that offered friendship would stab me in the back.”
“This is the frontier and believe me there are enough of our enemies around to do that. So, you have assessed the line of the limes?”
“Yes and I concur with all of you. Has the Sixth arrived yet?”
“No we will have to use the Twentieth and the Second Augusta to make a start.” He stood and went to the map. I suggest that the Twentieth starts on the west coast and the Second in the middle. When the Sixth eventually arrives they can fill in at the east, they will be arriving from that d
irection anyway. Did you summon the vexillations of the Second and the Twentieth?”
Falco laughed, “Aye although the Prefects were none too happy to have to lose a cohort each.”
“I would have preferred two cohorts from each. The task is not an easy one. As soon as we begin to build this wall the barbarians will make life very difficult. I served in the north with Agricola and we lost more men to ambushes than in battle. The barbarians are very adept at hiding.”
“Which is where the auxiliaries come in.”
“Precisely. The Emperor has ordered at least four new units to Britannia including a mixed cohort of Gauls.”
“Excellent for we do lack horses.”
“Fortunately there is a remount stud not far from here close to Morbium run by an ex-trooper so we will never run short.”
“Another of your old comrades eh?” Julius shrugged. “You are almost a secret society.”
Julius laughed. “You may be right. If you go into the vicus you will find that the Saddle, which is the best tavern in the province, is also run by an ex-trooper called Horse. None of them wished to move far from the ala. Well Pompeius I shall head north and await the first of the vexillations. If you set up the Twentieth you can then get back to the problems of running the province.”
“I think I would prefer your job working with those boys of yours. They do eat well.”
“A lesson we learned years ago, a well fed ala works better. Oh did you get the report about the raids from across the Mare Germania?”
“No. This is the first I have heard.”
“I thought so. Your predecessor suppressed it. Apparently they are raiding the east coast and taking slaves. I will have Livius allocate two turmae to patrolling the coast. Until the Gauls arrive that is our only option.”
“I think I will have the Batavians build some signal towers on the coast. The cliffs look like they have clear line of sight.”
“This is where it starts Pompeius. Let us hope we can make some progress before the Emperor arrives or we may find ourselves without a job.”
“I think that would be the least of our worries old friend.”
******
Morwenna did not impress Faolan as much as she had wished. A sceptic and a rationalist he was not taken in by the smoke and lighting which were supposed to make him fearful of the magic she supposedly controlled. If he did not fear the dead in Si an Bhru then why should this faded beauty frighten him? He was, however, impressed with her mind, which she used more than her charms once she realised that she would have to try a different approach with this warrior. It was an unpleasant awakening for the Queen that she could no longer make warriors do her bidding just because she wished it. This one would require persuasion and reason.
“My daughter tells me you have brought many men.”
“I have many men to command but only as long as your promises of plunder are true and not a trap to lure me to my death.”
She liked this man who would not be led on by dreams of glory. He wanted power; she knew that much from her daughter and Sceanbh and the Sword was the means by which he could achieve that. “I see we are both after the same thing Faolan.“ She took out a calfskin map. “Here,” she pointed to the land around the west of Britannia, “is the part of Britannia which is poorly defended. There is a fort here,“ she pointed at Glanibanta, “which houses a couple of centuries of auxiliaries. Once taken, it will secure your retreat, give you a quick victory and, more importantly provide you with more arms and weapons.”
Faolan nodded. She was not trying to trick him and he began to trust her; everything she had said made sense. “No plunder here then?”
“Very little, beyond arms and a few horses. The Roman soldiers do not eat well. The trade comes up the east coast. The Romans have gathered their forces here,“ she pointed to the land north of the Stanegate, “but here at Eboracum is where their treasure is. There are warehouses filled with valuable goods and the Brigante now keep their gold there, in the fort.”
Faolan looked satisfied. “And the Sword? What of that treasure?”
Morwenna hesitated. “It was here, at Morbium, the last I heard but it may be in the hands of a young cavalryman, Macro, who serves with the Second Sallustian Wing around Coriosopitum. The sword was, for many years, at a farm south of the Dunum and not far from Morbium. The parents of the wielder of the sword, Gaius and Ailis, have a heavily fortified farmhouse there. If they were attacked then the sword would return to defend the homestead.”
“Ah, not quite as simple as the old hag suggested then?” The sneer in his voice was intended to be insulting and Morwenna had to take it, for it was the truth.
“We never said it would be easy but Faolan, who would be king of the Ebdani, if you take Eboracum then the Sword will come for you. The cavalry of the sword is the one they use to put down invasions and raids. If you plunder then believe me they will come, do not doubt that for a moment.”
“And the legions?”
“There are but two. One of them is here at Deva,” she pointed at a place on the map, “and the other far to the south of the country. The cavalry would reach you before the legions.”
“I was told there would be more warriors for me here?” he posed it as a question as he had not seen any evidence yet.
“There are five hundred of my personal bodyguard and they are yours to command.” She saw that he was considering his actions. “The Brigante and Carvetii do not like the Romans. If you have success there are many who would join you.”
“Farmers and field hands,” He scoffed.
Morwenna put her hand on his. “Farmers and field hands who can die for you, leaving your warriors alive to take your treasure back to Hibernia.”
She was a ruthless woman, consigning those who would fight for her to an ignominious and pointless death. Faolan had already decided that he would take the risk. As far as he could see there was little risk for him. He would make sure he was mounted and, if he thought he would be trapped, he would flee home. He would have a huge army and once he had plundered Eboracum he intended to travel west and let the sword follow him. The old Witch Queen had a shrewd head upon her shoulders. He knew she had an ulterior motive but it mattered little to him. All he wanted was to be king and this would deliver him the crown but he had to ask the question. “What will you get out of this?”
Her eyes hardened and her voice became steely. “When you have begun the rebellion, the people will rise and the Romans will be defeated. I will be able to return to my land and rule in the traditional way and not with the false ideas of Rome. When you have the sword then I will be revenged upon those whom I hate the most.”
Those were motives the warrior could understand, self interest and revenge. At last he trusted her. “You will have your invasion.”
Smiling Morwenna kissed him on the lips. She was a little hurt and offended when he did not respond. Usually men took the kiss as an invitation; it was another sign that age was catching up with her and it would be her intelligence which ruled from now on and not her looks. “Come we will find Idwal and he will select your warriors for the sooner you begin your task the better.”
He looked at her curiously. “And why would that be?”
“My spies tell me that the new Emperor in Rome is interested in Britannia. Once he arrives then we will have to tread warily for he will bring legions. If we can strike before he comes he may well decided that this province is not worth the deaths and withdraw.”
For the first time Faolan saw beyond Hibernia. Everyone knew that Britannia was a richer land than his poor homeland. Who was to say what might happen if the Romans left? Perhaps he could claim a mightier kingdom here, beyond the waters of home. “Let us see your warriors then.”
******
Caronwyn played the part of servant well and, when Antoninus entertained the rich and powerful the discreet and subtle servant hovered invisibly in the background. She heard all that was said for the men around the table dismissed her fir
stly as a servant and second as a woman. The men believed that neither of those states had the capability to understand what they were planning. The biggest problem Caronwyn had was that, apart from Antoninus and Gaius she did not know their names, they did not use them. Perhaps that was part of their secrecy and their security. It mattered little in the grand scheme of things. As long as they revolted then her work was done. The problem was that they were worse than village gossips; they talked a good rebellion but did not get as far as the planning stage.
It was early in spring and Morag had done them proud serving new spring lamb with carefully cultivated spring vegetables, good beer and fine wine. The ten men around the table were looking very pleased with themselves. Gaius kept glancing lasciviously at Caronwyn but she could control that. Once in their cups their tongues and plans ran a little freer.
“When was the last time you saw a Roman soldier father?”
“You mean apart from the ones in the fort at Eboracum?” The nods of approbation from his peers gave Antoninus satisfaction; he loved his son but he should know his place.
Undeterred and aware that Caronwyn was in the room clearing the detritus of supper away he continued. “Precisely. There are but three or four hundred and where are the rest?” he answered the rhetorical question himself. “Far to the north trying to stem the tide of invading Picts.” To the Brigante anyone from the north was a Pict, a blue painted terror who had ravished and rampaged through their land since the earliest times of the Brigante. Some of the men around the table looked at the young man anew. He was making sense.
“But we are not warriors.”
Gaius leaned forward addressing the others rather than his father. “But we have warriors. Since I acquired those weapons we bought in Eboracum I have been training our men.” He looked meaningfully around the table. “Some of those who are your sons and followers have also joined us and are becoming warriors too. When we get more weapons they too can be trained. By the summer we will have an army.”
One of Antoninus’ neighbours asked his host. “Where did the weapons come from?”