The Dacian War (Book 6 of the Veteran of Rome Series)

by William Kelso

  A detachment of Praetorians was guarding the entrance to the camp’s principia and as they rode up to the men, a Centurion raised his hand to bring them to a halt and hastily Fergus dismounted, saluted and handed the officer, Rufus’s letter.

  Fergus, optio, 2nd company, 2nd Cohort, Twentieth Legion reporting the delivery of one high ranking Dacian prisoner as per my orders Sir,” Fergus rapped out staring into space.

  “A high-ranking Dacian prisoner?” the centurion growled as he took the letter and then glanced from Fergus to Bicilis, who was still sitting on his horse.

  “That’s right Sir,” Fergus said stiffly, “I was ordered to escort him here. His name is Bicilis and he says that he has urgent news for the emperor Trajan. It’s all there in the letter, if you care to read it, Sir.”

  “Alright optio,” the centurion said as he gestured at Bicilis to dismount. “We will take it from here. Half the world and their dog would like to have an audience with the emperor, but he is a busy man.”

  “I think the emperor will want to meet this man,” Fergus said boldly. “He is King Decebalus’s brother-in-law and he says he knows something important. Something he is only willing to divulge to Trajan.”

  “This man claims to be the king’s brother-in-law?” the centurion exclaimed, as he turned to stare at Bicilis in surprise.

  “I am,” Bicilis replied, looking down at the centurion from on top of his horse. “and if I do not get my audience with Trajan right away, the consequences will be on your head, Roman.”

  For a moment, the Praetorian centurion hesitated, as he glanced from Bicilis to Fergus.

  “Stay here,” the officer growled at last. “I need to speak with the tribune about this. I will be back shortly.”

  And as the centurion stomped away towards one of the army tents, Bicilis smoothly slid from his horse and turned to face Fergus.

  “So, this is goodbye then, Fergus,” Bicilis said with a sigh, as he extended his arm. “Today you and Rome are the victors but the day will come when a barbarian prince shall look down upon the smoking ruins of Rome. Maybe not tomorrow or the day after, but one day it will happen. Defeat and death come to us all. Remember that and remember who made you wealthy. But in the meantime, I wish you and your companions all the best.”

  Fergus looked down at the extended arm and after a moment’s hesitation, he gripped the outstretched hand.

  “I hope you get your audience with the emperor,” Fergus muttered in a neutral voice. “and that you get to grow old, fat and not too afraid of your brother-in-law’s vengeful spirit.”

  For a moment Bicilis’s face remained emotionless. Then a little smile appeared on his lips and he laughed.

  “Whatever you do,” Bicilis said, taking a step towards Fergus and lowering his voice, “Do not go back to the hiding place in the river. That spot will be swarming with Roman troops within a few hours from now. Trust me.”

  The Praetorian centurion was coming back towards them and at his side was a young, serious looking tribune.

  “Maybe we shall meet again,” Bicilis said, as he too noticed the approaching officers.

  “No, I don’t think so,” Fergus replied, as he turned away.

  Chapter Thirty-Three – Settlement of an old rivalry

  “Listen,” Fergus said in a patient voice as he, Aledus, Catinius and Vittius crouched together under the great oak tree at the edge of the forest clearing. “Rufus thinks that the war is over and that we shall soon all be heading back to Deva in Britannia. So, here is my plan. Let’s bury our big bags of coins here, beneath this tree until we get word that we are moving out. Then once we know we are going, we come back, retrieve the bags and hide them amongst our personal things. There will be less chance of the coins being discovered that way and whilst we are marching, we will be able to keep a better eye on the money.”

  “We could use the mule to transport the coins,” Vittius exclaimed, “I am normally in charge of the beast. I could hide the coins amongst the squad’s kit. The other two men in our tent group hate tending to the mule. They would be happy for me to look after the beast all the way to Britannia.”

  “A bit risky isn’t it,” Aledus frowned, “What happens if the damn mule gets scared and bolts taking all our money with it. No, I will go with Fergus’s plan, but I am not letting any stupid mule look after my coins.”

  “Dig the damn hole and let’s get this done,” Fergus snapped, as he rose to his feet and glanced around at the forest.

  It was noon and it had taken the four of them three days to cover the fifty or sixty miles on horseback from Ranisstorum to the battle group’s camp, amongst the mountains of the Rosia Montana mining district. The company’s camp was only half a mile away through the forest. But first things first Fergus thought, as he turned to look at the spot beneath the oak where Aledus and Vittius had begun digging a hole. If anyone in the company found out about the coins it would only cause trouble. Fergus sighed as Catinius passed him on his way into the forest.

  “Sorry, I have to piss,” Catinius said with a broad smile, as he adjusted his Sarmatian bow across his shoulder.

  “Always slacking off when the going gets tough,” Fergus called out after him in a good-natured voice. “Are you not worried they will try and nick some of your coins?”

  “Nope,” Catinius replied, with a shake of his head as he vanished into the forest without looking back.

  Patiently Fergus watched as Aledus and Vittius finished digging and stowed the four big bags filled with coins into the hole and swiftly covered it with the excavated soil before rising and stamping the earth down with their feet. The two of them had just ambled over to join Fergus beside the horses, when movement at the edge of the clearing suddenly caught Fergus’s eye. From the treeline five men had appeared and were slowly coming towards him and as they did, Fergus groaned. The five were legionaries, clad in full armour and leading them was Fronto.

  “Well, well what a surprise to find you out here Fergus,” Fronto called out, as he advanced towards Fergus. “Look he has his boys with him.”

  “What do you want Fronto?” Fergus said sharply.

  For a moment Fronto did not reply, as he turned to examine Fergus and his companions with a curious, intrigued look.

  “One of my boys here spotted you in the forest,” Fronto said with a crooked smile. “So, I thought I would come and see what you were up to and now I am well intrigued, for what may I ask, have you boys been burying beneath that oak over there. Yes, we saw what you were doing. So, come on, what is the big secret?”

  Fergus looked away with a pained expression.

  “That is none of your goddamn business, arsehole,” Aledus cried out. “Now why don’t you just turn around and go back to the camp and forget about what you think you just saw.”

  “You are a funny man,” Fronto retorted, glaring at Aledus, “I had forgotten how much fun it was to beat you into hospital, back in Deva. That must have hurt.”

  “Do you want to have another go?” Aledus snapped angrily, taking a step towards Fronto.

  “What we were burying in the ground is none of your concern,” Fergus snapped angrily. “And as your superior officer I order you back to the camp. I will not repeat myself. Go!”

  “I remember now why I don’t like you,” Fronto hissed, his face darkening as he raised his hand and pointed a finger at Fergus. “You are an arrogant prick. Always getting in my way and trying to humiliate me. I should have gutted you a long time ago. You think that promotion makes you better than me. You think that I am afraid of you. Think again, arsehole. It is I who is the better man. You don’t even deserve to qualify for the legions. You lied on your letter. I know the truth. I know your father was not a Roman citizen when you joined us. I mentioned it to the officers when we were in Bonna but you must have sucked cock to get those allegations dropped. That’s what you do Fergus, you suck cock. Well now you are about to suck my cock.”

  “There is no need to do this,” Fergus cried out hasti
ly.

  But Fronto was not listening. Turning to glance at the four legionaries with him Fronto nodded grimly.

  “Kill them,” Fronto hissed. “Kill them all.”

  With a loud cry the four legionaries drew their swords and charged. In horror Fergus stumbled backwards as he hastily drew his own sword. But as Fronto and his men came storming across the forest clearing towards him, an arrow suddenly came zipping and whining from out of the trees and struck one of the legionaries in his chest, knocking him boldly off his feet and onto his back in the grass. With a howl, Fergus sprang aside, as Fronto lunged at him with his sword. Fronto’s face was contorted in rage and hatred.

  “I am going to finish what I should have done a long time ago in the Lucky Legionary tavern,” Fronto yelled, as spittle flew from his mouth.

  From the corner of his eye, Fergus caught sight of Vittius and Aledus desperately trying to defend themselves, as Fronto’s three remaining men drove them backwards into the trees. He was on his own.

  In front of him Fronto charged again, jabbing at him with his gladius and with a grunt Fergus again sprang aside. Warily the two of them circled each other like gladiators in the arena. Fronto was hissing and snarling, as if possessed by demons and Fergus could see how much he wanted to kill him. The sight scared the shit out of him, but he could not let this man win, not now, not ever. Fronto was nothing more than a murderous bully, a man who thought nothing of raping and murdering women and children. With a savage yell, Fergus attacked, jabbing at Fronto’s chest but the man was too quick and he danced away. Then Fronto came at him again and this time he truly went for Fergus and with a wild scream, he crashed into Fergus and the two of them went tumbling to the ground in a confused, screaming and fighting tangle of arms and legs. Over and over the ground the two of them rolled, as they tried desperately to kill each other. From the forest, close by, a high-pitched scream rose before it was abruptly silenced but it was impossible for Fergus to see what was happening to his companions. Desperately Fergus tried to get a hold of Fronto but his opponent was brutally strong and tough. Wheezing as Fronto’s hand closed around his throat, Fergus tried to head butt Fronto but he couldn’t make it. Shifting his weight, he rolled over but Fronto forced him backwards and now he was on top and in control. Frantically Fergus struggled to prevent Fronto from stabbing him, but the man’s sword-point was inching closer to Fergus’s chest and he was having trouble breathing as Fronto’s hand tightened its grip on his throat. The man’s strength was terrifying and suddenly Fergus realised that he was about to die.

  But that is not going to happen he thought with savage determination. It was not yet his time. Galena and Briana were waiting for him. They were waiting for him to come home. Snarling and with his strength fading fast, Fergus’s left hand let go of the futile attempt to pull Fronto’s hand away from his throat and instead dropped down alongside his body. Fronto’s hand was slowly strangling him and as his sight began to blur, Fergus scrambled around for his pugio, knife, pulled it from his belt and with a cry brought it swinging upwards and straight into Fronto’s head with a sickening thud. Immediately the pressure on his throat slackened and as he gasped for air, Fronto rolled off him and onto his back, his sword falling out of his lifeless hand. Groaning Fergus rolled away and gasping for air, he staggered to his feet. Then with an enraged, savage, hoarse scream he brought his sword straight down through Fronto’s neck, sending an arc of blood spurting into his face. But Fergus didn’t care. Furiously he kicked at the corpse again and again. Then, as he was about to kick at the corpse again, he heard another terrified scream, which ended in abrupt silence. Horrified he turned around and stumbled into the clearing. The four legionaries who had come with Fronto were all dead, two of them with arrows sticking out of their bodies. But beside a tree, his hands clasped to a wound in his chest, was Vittius. Aledus and Catinius were crouching beside him trying to stem the blood from the nasty looking wound. Catinius’s Sarmatian bow was lying on the ground beside him.

  “How bad is he?” Fergus blurted out as he staggered up to his friends and in response, Aledus silently shook his head.

  “No, we are not going to lose him,” Fergus roared. “Not after all that we have been through. The camp is only a half a mile away. Get him onto a horse and take him to the camp doctor and get that wound treated. He is going to live, but you must hurry and don’t you dare let him die. Don’t you dare!”

  “All right Fergus,” Aledus said hastily, his own face splattered with blood. “But what shall we tell the doctor and Lucullus? They will want to know why he is wounded and they will want to know where you are.”

  “Tell them,” Fergus gasped as he struggled to think of something. “Tell them that we were attacked by a party of Dacians and that the last you saw of me was when I went rolling away into the undergrowth. I will join you later. I must get rid of these corpses. The army must never know what just happened here, do you understand? Shit,” Fergus cried out, as if he had suddenly realised what had just happened, “We just killed five of our own men. The army will execute us for that if they ever found out.”

  “It was self-defence,” Aledus hissed angrily. “Fronto attacked us. We all heard what Fronto said. “Is that arsehole dead?

  “I killed him,” Fergus nodded with savage delight as he looked down at Vittius, who had his eyes closed and was groaning softly.

  Without a further word, Aledus and Catinius lifted Vittius up and carrying him between them, they hastened across towards where their horses were standing tethered to trees. And as he watched them hastily ride away into the forest, Fergus’s trembling, shaken hand reached up to touch the iron amulet around his neck.

  Chapter Thirty-Four – The Offer

  “Is he going to live doc?” Fergus asked quietly, as he, Aledus and Catinius stood in the army tent looking down at Vittius who lay on a camp bed, his body covered in a blanket. The young man’s eyes were closed and his face was coated in beads of sweat. The doctor, a Greek civilian, sighed as he came up to the side of the camp bed and looked down at his patient.

  “If he survives the night he will stand a chance,” the doctor said. “The wound is still fresh and hopefully it will not become infected, but if it does, well then…” the doctor let the sentence hang. “You need to let him get some rest,” the doctor added. “I will let you know if there is a change in his condition.”

  Looking haggard and bruised, Fergus and his two companions emerged from the medical tent in the small camp that the company shared with the 3rd company. And as they did, Lucullus came limping towards them.

  “How’s our boy?” the centurion muttered as he came to a halt before Fergus.

  “The doc thinks he has a chance if he can survive the night,” Fergus replied, lowering his eyes to the ground.

  “Good, that’s good,” Lucullus muttered, with a concerned look. Then he turned to look at Fergus.

  “You were all lucky to escape those Dacian’s,” the centurion exclaimed. “It sounds like it was a pretty bad fight. I have sent a message to the other cohort companies to be on their guard. It’s a shit way to go, being killed, just as we have won the war. But the good news, boys is that Rufus has heard that we are going home. The decision has been made. As soon as they can move an auxiliary unit up here to replace us, the vexillation will be on its way back to Deva. Hell, if that doesn’t cheer you up then nothing will.”

  “Thank you, Sir,” Aledus and Catinius said smartly.

  “Ah Fergus, one more thing,” Lucullus said as he placed his hand on Fergus’s shoulder, preventing him from moving on.

  “Whilst you were away,” the centurion said, gazing at Fergus with an odd expression, “a man arrived at the battle group HQ. He is looking for you. Says he has come all the way from Aquincum in Lower Pannonia and he claims to have been sent by the Governor of the province, Hadrian. Seems that you have come to the attention of some powerful, important people, Fergus. He wants to talk to you. Would you know what that was about?”

&nb
sp; “Hadrian?” Fergus frowned. “I know the governor, Sir,” he muttered. “I was with his escort in Germania, but I have no idea what he would want with me. The last time I saw him, he refused to help me.”

  “Well would you mind clarifying what this is all about?” Lucullus ordered. “The last I heard is that this messenger is on his way over here to speak to you. The officers back at HQ say he does not seem to be the kind who takes no for an answer. Bit of an arrogant arsehole, if you know what I mean.”

  ***

  It was dawn, when a slave shook Fergus awake in his tent.

  “Sir,” the man said, lowering his eyes respectfully. “You need to come to Lucullus’s tent right away. There is someone here who wishes to speak to you.”

  Bleary-eyed Fergus rose from his camp bed and quickly splashed some water over his face from a bowl that was standing on a table, inside the tent. Then he turned to look at the slave, but the man had already disappeared.

  Weary and feeling stiff, Fergus emerged into the cool morning and hastened towards Lucullus’s tent. A single guard was standing at the entrance to the tent and as he entered, Fergus caught sight of a well-dressed man of around forty, with an array of fine, glinting amber rings on his fingers. The man was talking to Lucullus and the centurion did not look amused. Then as Fergus entered, the stranger turned around and Fergus saw that it was Adalwolf.

  “You,” Fergus grunted, as he took a step forwards, “What brings you to our camp? You are a long way from Aquincum.”

  “Well good to see you too,” Adalwolf said in his thick Germanic accent and as he did, a smile appeared on his face. For a moment, he examined Fergus. Then he stepped forwards and before Fergus could stop him, the German had embraced him in a tight bear hug.

  Releasing Fergus, Adalwolf stepped backwards.

  “You are right,” he said. “I have travelled a long way to find you and it was not easy. But now I am here and so are you, so we are good. Hadrian sent me to find you. It seems that your exploits here in Dacia have come to his attention.” Adalwolf paused and studied Fergus for another moment.