Vengeance of a Slave

by V. M. Sang

  There came the sound of shuffling feet among the men. Gareth and Rhodri did not hesitate, and came immediately to stand by Ailbert. The others looked at each other, no one wanting to be the first to decide. Then three went over to Rees and that seemed to make the others decide. There was a rush to Ailbert, leaving one young man standing alone in the middle of the clearing.

  He looked undecidedly from one to the other. Rees had three and Ailbert four. Which way would the last man decide? Eventually, he seemed to shake himself and walked slowly over to Ailbert, to the catcalls of those supporting Rees.

  Ailbert looked at those who had come to his side of the clearing. He had felt certain he would have been able to carry the majority of the group. Yes, he had five to Rees' three, but it was a serious split in his army. He would have to do something about reuniting them.

  “Rees,” he stated, “we should have a meeting. Just we two. Four of you can’t do much against the Romans, even if it’s an ambush.”

  Rees regarded him intensely. “That's what you think. “I bet we’ll take out as many Roman soldiers as you.” He turned to his supporters. “Lads, we’ll go on a raid in three days time. We know the routine of the patrols now. We don’t need Ailbert to tell us.” Then he left the clearing, followed by his small group of men.

  Gareth turned to Ailbert, appearing discouraged. “What now? Our army's nearly halved.”

  “I need to think about this,” Ailbert replied calmly. “We may not be able to reunite, but perhaps we can cooperate. Perhaps what Rees suggested, two raids at the same time, would be an idea we could pursue.”

  Three days later, as Ailbert and Gareth crossed towards the animal pens, Rees came in through the gate followed by two of his three men. The two carried something between them. When they put it down, Ailbert realised it was the third man. He walked across to where Rees stood staring down at the fellow at his feet.

  “What happened, Rees?” Ailbert asked softly.

  “He wasn't quick enough. A Roman saw him and chased him. When the Roman caught him, he tried to fight back. The Roman stabbed him with his gladius.”

  Ailbert knelt down before the young man and felt his neck for a pulse. “He’s dead, Rees.”

  “He was alive when we picked him up,” said one of the men who had carried him back. “We thought your aunt, Dera, could help him. We came as quickly as we could.” He blinked rapidly and brushed a hand over his eyes.

  Ailbert gazed at him from where he still knelt. “Four of you on a raid isn’t enough—not enough to throw the Romans into confusion as to where the shots are coming from, and not enough to split their forces when they come after you.” His gaze returned to the young man, and then he stood and turned to Rees. “You must go and tell his mother. You’re responsible for this, so you must do the decent thing.” Ailbert turned on his heels and strode back to Gareth and the feeding of the animals.

  Ailbert and Rees met the following day. Rees reluctantly agreed to join forces once again. Since the death of one of his men, thus leaving only three of them, he realized he could not continue with his rival army. Even he could see that three were not enough.

  Ailbert planned a bigger attack than ever: a night-time raid on a camp where the Romans usually slept when on a longer patrol.

  Once they arrived where the Romans usually camped, Ailbert sent four of his men off to hide themselves … if possible, in the trees within the camp area. He set Gareth in charge of these men. The other three men and Ailbert hid in the dense bushes that surrounded the camp.

  Soon, they heard the sounds of marching feet and the Roman patrol appeared. Now came the worst time of all. They had to wait in utter stillness until the patrol slept.

  The patrol erected tents and settled down to cook and eat a meal. Then the guards went to the perimeter of the camp, where they set six guards. The rest of the patrol crept into the tents to sleep.

  Ailbert decided to wait until after the first change of guards. That way the guards would all be a bit sleepy; those who had just woken would be rubbing their eyes and trying to wake up while the ones going off would be tired and anxious to get to their beds.

  After what seemed an age, the change came about.

  “Nothing to report,” the guards told those replacing them. “It's a quiet night. I don't suppose there'll be an ambush. I think, after we got one of them last time, they've given up. Cowards all.”

  “Can't be sure of anything with those barbarians,” a new guard stated, and the changeover took place.

  Ailbert decided to wait for a half hour before beginning his attack. After that time, he shot at one of the guards. He deliberately missed and jumped from his hiding place. The others followed his lead.

  “Look, there are only four of them,” called the guard Ailbert had shot at. “We can easily take them.”

  As he had hoped, the six guards all left their places and ran after the now fleeing men, who periodically turned and shot at them to make sure they were followed.

  While this went on, Gareth led the other four down from the trees where they had been hiding within the camp. There they each entered a tent and silently killed a sleeping soldier.

  That done, they took themselves in the opposite direction from that which Ailbert and his men had taken. They looped round and quickly moved behind the guards chasing Ailbert and his men, where they easily killed them with accurate shots.

  When the nine got together again, they whooped with joy. This was the best ambush of all.

  “We must have killed at least eleven Romans,” said Rees gleefully.

  Rhodri turned to him. “Do you still think you can plan things better than Ailbert?”

  Rees appeared guilty. “No. I'll hand it to him. He planned a superb attack this time. But what about next time? We can't do the same thing again. The Romans will be ready for us.”

  “Ailbert will think of something,” Gareth affirmed.

  As Ailbert listened to the discussion, he realised Rees was right. The same tactics would not work again. At least not for quite some time. He would need to think hard to come up with something new.

  The next time Ailbert and Huw went to the market in Eberacum, all they heard about was the night attack on the patrol.

  “It can't have been humans,” one elderly woman said to them. “They melted away into the night, just as they have done every time they attacked. This time though, they later reappeared out of nowhere. It must have been a ghost attack.”

  “Perhaps the ghosts of some of the barbarians we killed when they rebelled,” her friend suggested.

  The two wandered into the market and Ailbert could hear no more.

  In Eberacum, at least, Ailbert's Army began to be dubbed the Phantom Army.

  It began to get colder now and ice formed on the ground and ponds. Waterfalls turned to ice after a long cold spell, creating beautiful glassy structures. Ice even formed at the edges of fast-flowing streams.

  Ailbert decided to return to the original plan for raids on patrols, at least for a while. He needed to keep the bloodlust of his Phantom Army satisfied. He could not afford to have another disastrous split like the one with Rees that led to the death of a young man.

  They did a couple of raids, one of which resulted in a slight injury to Rhodri. Awena was not pleased. She pressed him until he admitted to the raids and she forbade her husband to go on any more. Rhodri made her promise not to tell anyone, though. He knew Ailbert would be annoyed at his breaking of the rule.

  “I don't want our baby to lose his father before he's even born,” she stated angrily.

  Rhodri raised his eyebrows. “How do you know it's a he?”

  Awena smiled. “Just a feeling.”

  The Phantom Army was thus reduced to eight.

  “Do you think we can manage with only eight?” Gareth asked Ailbertwith puckered brows.

  “Perhaps we ought to try to recruit some more,” replied Ailbert.

  The current eight army members discussed who to include. There were
a few younger men in Pen Coed, but most were too young. The youngest of the Phantom Army was sixteen and he was a little hot-headed at times. Anyone else from Pen Coed would be even younger than that.

  They decided to leave it for a while until Ailbert had planned another attack. If that did not go well, then they might try to raise help in another village. It would have to be one they knew they could trust, though. Some people had accepted the Roman occupation and even become Roman citizens themselves.

  Two weeks later, Huw and Ailbert went to Eberacum as usual. As he had done before, Huw told Ailbert to have a look round. Ailbert decided this time he would listen for any young men objecting to Roman rule.

  It started to snow as Ailbert climbed the steps to an inn. As he neared the top, his feet slipped from under him and he fell down five steps. He landed very awkwardly and felt something crack.

  A passing man hurried over. “You had a nasty fall there. Can you get up?"

  Ailbert tried, but found he could not.

  “You've done something very nasty to your leg. I suspect you've broken it. Here, let me help you.”

  The man assisted Ailbert to his feet and then hailed a man with a cart. “This man has broken his leg, I think. Help me get him into your cart and take him to my house. I'll pay you well.”

  Ailbert objected, but the man insisted and Ailbert soon found himself being carried into a domus, much like the one where he had been a slave.

  He shivered as they crossed the threshold. All his conditioning as a slave—that he could not use the main entrance to the domus—came to the fore. He could not tell this man why he shivered though, as that might result in both him and Awena being taken back to Londinium to suffer punishment as escaped slaves.

  The Roman called for a slave to help Ailbert into a bedroom. Here he laid him on a bed before sitting down on a chair next to him.

  Ailbert tried to get up. “I must go. Thank you for your help, but I must go back to my uncle. He'll wonder where I am.”

  “Wait,” the Roman said. “You've got yourself in a bit of a mess. I think we need to have a doctor see to you. If I'm right, and you have broken a bone, then it needs to be set properly or you'll have a permanent limp, and might end up a cripple.”

  Ailbert looked quickly at the other man. He could not afford to be either crippled or walk with a limp. How would he fight the Romans in that case? He decided he had better do as this man said.

  “My name is Flavius. Yours is …?”

  He lay back. “Ailbert.” He sat up again, wincing as pain shot through his leg. “My uncle. He'll wonder where I am.”

  “I'll send someone to tell him,” Flavius replied. “What's his name?”

  “Huw. He's a merchant in the market. He sells luxury goods like wine and olive oil.”

  Flavius smiled. “I know him. I've bought some things from him. I got a lovely brooch for my wife for Saturnalia. A strange yellow stone. I think he said it's called amber.”

  “Yes, that's right. He got the amber from a merchant in Londinium. It comes from the Mare Balticum, over in the east. Our silversmith sets the amber in silver.”

  “Beautiful it is too. All that intricate work, weaving in and out.”

  Ailbert moved again and that prompted another wince.

  Flavius stood. “We need to get a doctor here as soon as we can.” He walked to the door and called for a slave, and gave instructions for him to tell Huw where his nephew was.

  “Tell him he's hurt his leg and I've brought him here so a doctor can see to him,” he instructed the slave, who departed immediately.

  Soon Huw arrived, followed almost immediately by the doctor. The doctor ushered everyone out of the room, much to the annoyance of Huw, who had not had time to speak to Ailbert.

  Flavius took the man by the arm, talking to him and telling him that the doctor could do his work better without an audience.

  The doctor ran his hands down Ailbert's injured leg. It made him wince as the doctor's hands passed the injury.

  “Ah! Flavius was right. You have broken it. I'll need to set it, and then you must keep off it while it heals.”

  He reached into a bag he had with him. First, he manipulated the leg to ensure the bones were in place, eliciting a cry from Ailbert. Next, he took two sticks and placed one on each side of the leg, and tied them in place. He called for Flavius and spoke to him quietly.

  Before Flavius and the doctor left, the doctor gave Ailbert strict instructions not to move his leg until he returned.

  Shortly thereafter, the doctor returned and wrapped bandages soaked in some sort of mixture around the splints.

  “What's that?” Ailbert asked.

  “Cloths soaked in starch. The starch stiffens the cloth and it's better for holding everything still.” He stood up and looked at his handiwork. “Yes, that'll do. Now, don't move around. Stay here in bed, and I'll come back in a few days and change the bandages.”

  “I can't do that,” Ailbert began, but the doctor hastened into the corridor.

  Flavius entered several seconds later, as Ailbert struggled to sit up. “The doctor says I'm to stay here, and he'll come back to change the bandages in a few days. I can't do that.”

  “Why not?” Flavius asked, perplexed.

  “You've done enough for me already. Brought me here, got a doctor to see to my leg, and kindly lent me a bedroom. You must tell me what I owe you. The doctor doesn't come free.”

  Huw entered and agreed with Ailbert, but Flavius was having none of it. “Look, I know the doctor well. I'm the Primus Pilus of the legion here in Eberacum. That doctor sees to the men under my command. He'll give me special rates.”

  Huw became insistent. “You must let me pay something.”

  “Nonsense. I can afford it. As to leaving, I won't allow it. Ailbert will stay here until he can walk out on his own. This I insist.”

  After further arguing, Huw and Ailbert gave in, and Huw left to return to Pen Coed with the news.

  Ailbert felt uncomfortable. He found himself staying in the home of one of the hated Romans. And a soldier at that. In his head, he heard the sound of his mother's screams as the Roman soldier dragged him and his sister away from her. He heard the hammering of the nails entering the flesh of the men being crucified and their screams, and heard Avelina’s sobs as she missed her mother. Once more, he saw the tears of Odila and the other girls who had been taken to the soldiers every evening. He felt the petting of the Domina and her friends, and the rejection when no longer the pretty little pet.

  Anger crept within as he remembered how the Dominus had tried to compromise Avelina and the Domina's revenge, sending the girl to a brothel. His anger mounted as he recalled why he and his sister had needed to change their names.

  He wept for the old woman, killed for helping them, and for Huw's sister, losing her life of luxury to become the slave of the man she had married. He wept for her two little boys, not knowing why they were no longer pampered children but slaves too.

  Then there was the uprooting from their new home to come here, and Avelina's distress at leaving her betrothed, although the anger cooled a little as he thought of her new life with Rhodri. She seemed happy enough now.

  But he still lay here, in the home of a Roman soldier. He did not want to be here. He was tempted to walk out, but as he raised himself, the room span and his leg pained greatly. With a sigh, he lay back.

  18

  Ailbert fell asleep in spite of the pain in his leg. He woke to hear a slave girl in his room. He opened his eyes and, as he focussed, a voice came to him.

  “Ah, I see you're awake. I've brought you something to help with the pain.”

  He struggled to sit up, which provoked a yelp, and he took the proffered drink, sipping slowly.

  The girl smiled.

  A lovely smile, Ailbert thought.

  “I hope it helps,” she said. “Pater told me to bring it every few hours. He doesn't trust the slaves to remember, you see.”

  “Your father?
Then you must be Flavius's daughter.”

  “Yes. Pater went to see about something in the legion. Something about the patrols. They're being attacked, you know. The last one, we lost about ten men. It was quite a disaster. They're sending two contuburnia together now, because of the attacks.”

  Ailbert smiled inwardly. Perhaps he could find out more to make his attacks even more effective. If they could kill one complete patrol, that would be excellent. The girl may know more than she realised.

  “What's your name?” he asked her.

  “Sylvia. Pater said your name is Ailbert.”

  He nodded as he studied the girl. So this was Flavius's daughter? She was pretty, although not what people would call beautiful. She had brown hair that glinted with golden highlights as she moved her head. He looked at her appraisingly when she took the goblet that had held the painkilling drink. He noticed light brown eyes that sparkled with fun, and that lovely smile. She was small. He estimated she would come just past his shoulder.

  She put the goblet down and turned to him. “I must go. Mater is going to see you in a few minutes.” She slipped through the door.

  Almost as soon as she had gone, an older version of Sylvia entered with a couple of boys.

  “So you're Ailbert,” she said, head tilted to one side. “My husband told me you've broken your leg and must stay here until it's mended.” She frowned as she regarded him.

  Not much like her daughter in attitude, Ailbert thought. I don't think she wants me here.

  The woman began talking again, all the while looking him up and down. “My name is Octavia. You've already met my daughter, Sylvia. These are my sons, Laurentius and Quintus.”

  Ailbert looked at the two boys. Quintus looked about twelve or thirteen and had brown hair and light eyes like his mother. Laurentius, on the other hand, was dark like his father and his eyes seemed almost black. He looked at Ailbert and scowled. Ailbert estimated him to be about fifteen, just a little younger than his sister. He smiled at the two boys. Quintus smiled back, but Laurentius' scowl deepened.