Spears of Britannia

by Scott Hurst

  Calista sighed impatiently but, aware of onlookers, acquiesced. ‘If you must, my king.’

  He led her into a side room and closed the door behind them. Taking her hand he looked quizzically at her bare finger. ‘What happened to the new ring I bought you?’

  Calista looked carelessly at her hand. ‘It was loose. It must have fallen off somewhere. We should punish the jeweller.’

  Dye smiled. What did a lost ring matter? The entire Catuvellauni nation was now his. He felt more excited and alive than he had ever done. ‘Good of my father to die at the just the right moment. I have to admit I was worried. Just a couple more days and he would have announced Max his heir. Then all our plans would have been for nothing. The old bastard finally did something to favour me at last. And now I’m king, which means I can order everyone around.’ He looked at her with intent, his loins stirring. ‘Including you, Calista.’

  Calista’s smile soured. ‘In front of others, yes. But not too much,’ she warned.

  ‘Oh, you, especially you, my love. You may have refused me as Dye, but you cannot refuse King Dionysius.’ Reaching for her buttocks he pulled her close, forcing his mouth onto her lips.

  Calista pulled back, wiping her lips. ‘You stink of wine’.

  ‘Do you want a child, or don’t you? Time to bow before your king,’ he crowed. Turning her round he bent her roughly over the couch.

  Elbows resting on the painted wood, she shrugged resignedly. ‘Make it quick – and be sure to give me a son this time. As king and queen we need an heir more than ever.’

  ‘My pleasure.’ Grabbing her tunica he threw it up, uncovering her buttocks. He slapped them, hard.

  ‘Get on with it,’ she moaned.

  Dye grinned drunkenly, his hands exploring the exposed flesh. ‘You used to like to play games when we were first married.’

  ‘That was then,’ she scowled. ‘Now we’ve more important business to attend to.’

  Dye grinned again, slipping his hand between her thighs. She was dry. ‘Back then I was just the second son. Now I’m your ruler.’ At the word he felt her press herself against his fingers, wiggling her buttocks with pleasure. ‘That’s right, my darling. You’re about to be fucked by a king.’

  He thrust into her so hard she grunted with the impact. Calista called out but he ignored her, seizing her breasts roughly, kneading them hard. Calista settled into the rhythm, pressing back against his thrusts, reaching down to rub between her legs. Feeling her breasts swell with arousal he raised her hips, slamming into her. His chest rose and fell rapidly, sweat covering his body. The rhythm was intense, empowering. He felt his balls tingle and he slapped her hard on the buttocks, marking the tender flesh. ‘Never forget it, Calista. I…am…now…your …king!’ he rasped, pumping hard, milking the last spasm.

  He would have fallen back, drained, if Calista hadn’t arched back, grabbing him roughly. ‘As I am your queen!’

  *****

  Hours passed. Max’s thoughts were interrupted by the door opening. A terrified slave girl scuttled in with some food. Otho stood behind her stood, grinning his satisfaction at the sight of Max trapped there. ‘Room service, Maximus. You’ll be eating all your meals here from now on.’ The slave girl fled out of the door quickly, but not before signalling a particular bowl to Maximus. As soon as the door was shut, Max picked up the bowl. It held bread. He picked up the rough ration, biting into it then spitting out a small scrap of paper. It lay on the palm of his hand. Immediately he recognized Salvius’s scribble. ‘Madoc and I are safe. Await rescue.’

  Max showed the scrap of hope to Sabrina who hugged him in delight. Rhoswen had finally fallen asleep, exhausted by the events of the night and the morning. He decided not to wake her. There was nothing they could do now until Salvius made his move to free them. Nothing but talk. Getting out of there was just the beginning. Dye and Calista had to be stopped. They’d tear his people apart and the tribes would be at war with their neighbours within weeks.

  When the door opened again later that day the scared-looking slave girl scuttled in, bringing fresh food. It was the same kitchen slave Dye had been with, Max realised. Otho hadn’t followed her in. Max whispered to her urgently. ‘Any more messages?’ She waved her hands in terror to silence him. She leaned forward to collect the plates they’d used, whispering. ‘They’re rounding up anyone suspected of being Bagaudae now. Not just ringleaders. Foreigners as well as anyone who has a foreign parent….the Egyptian Heru fled in the night.’

  Otho shouted from the doorway. ‘No talking!’ He gestured to the slave girl to leave. She fled immediately. Once the door closed again, Max used his fingers to tear apart the bread the girl had brought. Another scrap in Salvius’ writing; five short words. ‘Be ready at the funeral.’

  *****

  The next time the door opened it wasn’t the maid. Calista stood there, seven guards behind her. ‘We’ve arranged Severus’s funeral for tomorrow morning.’

  Rhoswen collapsed in sobs.

  ‘As you will understand,’ Calista went on, ‘this is a great day for all of us. People will be there to pay their final respects to their old ruler and greet their new king. It is, therefore, imperative that both you,’ she pointed at Max, ‘and you, Rhoswen, are there and seen to behave yourselves. Our people need to see you stand behind Dye.’

  Rhoswen was on her feet again. ‘Never. He may be my son, but Dye was not his father’s chosen heir.’

  Calista looked smug. ‘I thought you might be a little reluctant. So I came up with a persuasive argument.’ Waving her hand abruptly, she motioned forward two guards who grabbed Sabrina before Max had time to react. Launching himself at one of them he managed to wrestle the man down, only to have three others descend on him, pummelling him until Calista ordered them to stop. She waved them away in time for Max to see Sabrina being dragged, kicking and screaming, out of the room. With four spear points still directed at him Max heard her cries disappearing into the distance.

  Calista came down to his level. ‘You’ve only yourself to blame, Maximus,’ she said, stroking his painful cheek. ‘If you’d chosen me instead of that Dobunni bitch, none of this would have happened. You’d be king now.’

  ‘Hurt her,’ he hissed, ‘and I swear I’ll make you pay.’

  Calista sniffed. ‘You’re hardly in a position to make threats, Max. Besides,’ she continued, ‘I have no intention of hurting her. Not, that is, as long as you and your mother show loyalty in front of our visitors tomorrow. Behave well and your wife will be returned to you unharmed. Misbehave in any way, show any disloyalty to your new king, and I will have her throat cut. Unless I choose to prolong her agony first.’ Calista waved her hand dismissively and rose to go. ‘Enough. I have a kingdom to run and you,’ she paused and smiled, ‘well, Maximus, you don’t.’ With that she and the guards were gone.

  Max hurled his bowl against the door in frustration before collapsing. Rhoswen sat next to him, ‘What will we do now?’

  Max hung his head in despair. Even if Salvius and Madoc could find some way to rescue them at the funeral, Sabrina would die in the process.

  *****

  Max lay awake all night, thinking how he could save Sabrina. His only chance was a message through the slave girl. But in the morning their food was delivered by a guard. When he asked about the girl he gave no reply. Max hoped for her sake that Calista hadn’t found out about the messages. In despair, he even sent a message to Dye, suggesting that he take Sabrina’s place as hostage. Calista sent back a refusal.

  When the time came to escort his father’s remains up the hill to the shrine of St. Alban, Max was distraught, but unable to give himself over to grief. A large crowd had come to pay their respects. Seeing Adrastia in the throng Max tried to attract her attention. She ignored him. When he persisted, she came over under the guise of giving him her condolences and hissed in his ear. ‘Leave me alone, Maximus. There are new powers in play. Powers which have promised me a piece of land near Magiovinium. A girl
has to look after herself.’ Turning on her heel, she rejoined her father, avoiding eye contact.

  Following behind his father’s body Max desperately looked for his rescuers in the crowd. The guards were watching him intently. If Salvius freed him somehow, he’d have to reach Sabrina before they killed her. If he did manage to escape, she’d be dead long before he reached the house. For now all he could do was keep scanning the crowd. If he could see Salvius or Madoc before they made their move, he’d be able to warn them off. But by the time they reached the grave, there was no sign of them. As the psalms were sung and the prayers intoned, Max steeled himself for the moment Salvius and Madoc made their attempt. The moment Sabrina would die.

  They chose the instant that Severus’s body was being lowered into the grave. With all eyes on the internment a herd of cattle suddenly erupted over the hillside, spreading out in all directions. Two hooded horsemen were riding hard to its rear. The crowd began to scatter. Arms grabbed Max and Rhoswen from behind, pulling them into the crowd. Suddenly three more hooded figures rose up out of the crowd, grabbing the guards around them, stabbing them and bundling them to the ground. Though he’d instinctively started to run behind his rescuer, Max was relieved when the hooded figure pulled down his head cover to reveal his grinning face. Salvius. Two other figures were alongside, half running, half carrying Rhoswen.

  All Max could think of was Sabrina. ‘They have her hostage, Salvius. They’ll kill her!’

  ‘Your friend Victor and his Bagaudae are seizing her back this very moment,’ Salvius shouted.

  Ahead Max could see his friends’ waiting forces. But still in their way was a group of twenty of Dye’s men. They were totally outnumbered.

  Suddenly Otho stood in his path, grinning at him like a demon. ‘Queen Calista knew you’d try something. She stationed us here as reserve. Now if you’ll put your weapons down calmly, we can all go have a nice chat with her. I bet she’ll have some very sharp questions to ask you, if you know what I mean.’

  Salvius looked beaten. Despair settled on Max. Then unexpectedly he heard a voice muttering in the crowd that had gathered around them. ‘It’s the real king.’

  Searching the faces, Max made out Amax who’d served him so loyally in Gaul. The young veteran shouted again for Maximus as heir. The muttering spread and Amax grinned at him. ‘We’ll sort this lot out for you, Arcturus. Don’t you worry.’ Within seconds several hands had picked up crude weapons, stones, bricks, lengths of wood. A huge part of the crowd surged forwards, shouting and screaming. Within moments they had swept away the guards.

  Max looked over at Salvius, who was grinning once again. As one they ran for their horses.

  *****

  Sabrina had spent the night pacing her room, trying to work out an escape. It seemed most likely Salvius and Madoc would make their attempt during the funeral. If their attempt failed it was unlikely that Calista would let her live. If she was going to die, it would be escaping, not trapped here. Using all her weight, she managed to break off a chair leg. Standing behind the door, knowing she was almost certainly about to die, she breathed a prayer, then began screaming. ‘Fire!’

  Two guards came running, smashing open the door. Tripping up the first she twisted round, beating the second guard with the chair leg as hard as she could. He didn’t go down but it was enough to let her bolt past him into the corridor. She headed for the courtyard, the two guards behind her. Bursting into the sunlight she saw more guards thundering at her from the opposite direction. Just as she was sure she was about to die a band of men erupted into the courtyard in front of her, rough peasant men. Bagaudae! Racing across the courtyard she watched their leader and his followers brutally attack the two guards chasing her, running them through with spears.

  One of Dye’s men appeared, armed with a bow. Swiftly he put an arrow through the neck of a Bagaudae rebel. Their tall, dark chief grabbed Sabrina by the arm. ‘Come on, my Lady, quickly!’ Hustling her out her through the side gate into the street, she saw a small number of horses waiting. Inside the clash raged on between the Bagaudae and her keepers. Sabrina’s rescuer hurried her past the carnage, bundling her onto a horse behind him. With everyone at Severus’s funeral the streets of the city were empty. Quickly they made for the gate to the Deva road. As they approached, guards rushed to close the gates. Others were already raising their shields and spears to bar their passage. And then a voice went up. ‘It’s the wife of Maximus!’ he shouted. ‘It’s the real Queen!’

  Instead of closing the gates the guards rushed to open them. Withdrawing their staves they let them through, bowing to Sabrina as she passed.

  *****

  As Max arrived in the Bagaudae camp on a wooded hillside Sabrina was there, waiting for him. Jumping from his horse he ran to her and folded her in his arms. ‘I cannot believe you’re unharmed.’

  ‘And free, Maximus!’ She smiled at him, overjoyed that they’d both escaped unscathed. Laughing, Salvius, Madoc and Rhoswen joined them in their embrace, rejoicing that their fragile escape plan had somehow, miraculously worked. Someone else was waiting for Max too. Paulinus came up, smiling broadly, holding out his arms for an embrace. ‘Max, my dear boy. So good to see you safe.’

  Max grinned, thumping his old friend on the back. ‘And good to see you, Paulinus. How did you know where to find me?’ The old boy always managed to turn up at just the right time.

  ‘When I learned of the death of your father I raced back. Suspecting some of our people would be on the run, I had Victor send his men to look out for them. Fortunately we found Salvius and Madoc before your brother and his wife did.’

  Victor came up to greet him. Seeing him, he laughed for joy. The two men hugged each other warmly. Max was the first to speak. ‘You are a sight for sore eyes, my friend.’

  A man of splendid physique Victor smiled. But when he spoke his voice was grave. ‘We both lost several men today, Maximus.’

  Max nodded. The excitement of the escape was beginning to drain from him now. He and Victor needed to talk. Particularly about the dangers the Bagaudae faced if Calista and Dye were to remain in power.

  ‘You look tired, Max’. Victor ushered to him to the fire where a calf hung over the flames on a spit, and beckoned Sabrina to join them. Max noted dozens of makeshift shelters extending off into the woods. Victor followed his gaze. ‘More and more refugees are joining us all the time.’ Rising, Victor stoked the fire, his handsome face troubled in the firelight. ‘Your brother fears the Bagaudae for no reason, Maximus. We seek only to protect ourselves against grasping landowners.’

  Max nodded. ‘Dye knows you did not take those girls. He’s using their disappearance as a pretext to wipe your people out.’

  He listened intently as Victor went on. ‘His men aren’t just rounding up Bagaudae. Anywhere there’s land they want, they accuse the people living on it of belonging to us and evict them. Many of the people here barely escaped with their lives.’

  Paulinus agreed, pushing his arms more deeply into his rough woollen sleeves. The night was turning cold. ‘Meanwhile the Saxons are taking advantage of the chaos here to raid the coastline unopposed. Most worrying of all, Guidolin’s plans to raise an army against us are well advanced.’

  ‘So what’s your next move, Arcturus?’

  So Victor knew of his nickname too. The idea of him as the bear guardian seemed like a mockery now. Max bowed his head. ‘I am a poor protector of my people.’

  Victor shook his head. ‘Freeing that bear was a remarkable thing. My old mother used to talk about how animals would appear at certain times of our lives. We meet them one day at a fork in the road and we decide to take a certain path.’ The Bagaudae leader stared at him intently. ‘Do you doubt that the bear is still with you on your journey? That he can guide you now? The name Arcturus has stayed with you for a reason – because you know how to lead and you desire to protect. That is why people worshiped Artur, the hunter, the warrior. He could give the people what they needed – and he ros
e up to defend them when it mattered. Allow the name to serve you, Maximus, as a reminder of your authority.’

  Maximus raised his head and held Victor’s eyes.

  ‘Do not deny yourself this title, Maximus. Words hold power. What we call each other influences how we are regarded. By allowing the others to use the bear’s name you are allowing them to see your spirit. Do not disregard this gift you have been given.’

  Max surveyed his friends in the firelight. Faithful Salvius, who had risked his life to rescue him. How could he ever have doubted him? Madoc, who had proven his friendship time and time again. His old mentor, without whose support he would be lost. And now Victor, a fine man he sensed could become a real friend.

  Sabrina had whispered to him how he had saved her. He owed Victor a debt he could never repay.

  The past few days had brought grief, discouragement, confusion. Setbacks which had tested him to the limit. What had emerged was a new willingness, a new awareness. The stakes were higher now than ever. He looked around him at their faces in the firelight. Each face mirrored back to him the same fierce desire.

  ‘Well then,’ he said, ‘it’s time we fight back.’

  Chapter Eleven

  Guidolin observed the man dying slowly in front of him. As the garrotte tightened the swollen tongue was forced from the man’s mouth. The purpling face began to explode, eyes widening in agony. Bored, Guidolin turned to Lupicinius to find the priest rapt, his glassy eyes transfixed by the man’s agonies. Exasperated, Guidolin rasped, ‘What news of the Torc?’

  Reluctantly Lupicinius dragged his eyes away from the man’s death throes. ‘No news, my Lord,’ he answered. He paused, ‘In any case, perhaps it is well it is gone. You know it carries a heavy curse from the Shining One, from Lug himself.’

  Guidolin looked at him sideways. ‘They also say it offers invincibility in battle. If I had that, I would be more than happy to take my chances with some curse. If I rule Britain, what is a little bad luck after that?’