Hosker, G [Sword of Cartimandua 09] Hero of Rome (19 page)

BOOK: Hosker, G [Sword of Cartimandua 09] Hero of Rome
12.79Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“Get any?”

“Not killed sir.  They have learned to use shields but we need more arrows.”

“I know.  When the group resting awakes have half of them see if they can find any usable ones around here.”

The smell of the food was making Metellus’ hunger pangs even worse. He could see the band of women and children sniffing the cooking meat appreciatively. Nanna kept them all back.  He watched her tug a leg from the hare and, using a dock leaf as a platter brought hare and berries for the decurion. “No feed the children first.”

“You are wounded and you saved us.”

“Feed the children and the women and it was my men who saved you, not me alone.”

The woman handed the platter to one of the other women as they began to dole out the pitiful rations. “No Roman I watched you.  It was you who gave the orders and you who had the wise plan.  We are grateful.”

“Tell me Nanna. What happened at Stanwyck?”

“They came in the early morning. My husband and son were killed as they left our hut.  I tried to fight them but they tied me up and I had to watch my uncles and brothers die before me. It was only when the Romans came that we had hope.”

“Horses? Like us?”

“No these men fought on foot and they killed many of these savages.  After that we were marched by one of their wounded leaders, Conan. His men had no honour.  They ravished some of the younger girls and they were killed.  They even fought amongst themselves.  We hoped that they might kill each other.  When we arrived here all hope was gone for they had many more men here. And we could smell the sea.  We knew that the slave market would not be far away and we would never see our homes again.” She grasped Metellus’ hands in her own, rough and red ones. “You must save them sir.  There are many young children amongst them and girls I grew up with.”

The pleading in her eyes moved Metellus but he was an honest man and he could not lie to this fine woman whose resolve had helped her people. “I will not lie to you Nanna, I believe that if they are not already across the sea, they soon will be but we will not rest until they are returned. Tell me how many men were there?”

“The band who brought us?  About forty. Then there were slightly more here. Your men killed many.”

“And do you know the name of their leader?” She had a confused look upon her face. “Then we know where to seek them should we cross the seas.”

“The men said he was Faolan of the Ebdani and he would be a king but they said that we were bound for Manavia.” She bit her lip.  “They said we were going to the Witch Queen.  Is that true?”

“It is and in that beast there is both hope and despair for she styles herself Queen of the Brigante. She would change your women and your girls to become her servants and in that they would live but they would be changed and they would not be the people you knew.”

She stood.  “Thank you for your honesty sir and I know that you will return them to us.”

Metellus hoped that he could but he wondered how the Prefect would view an invasion of Manavia to face the wrath of the Red Witch and her fanatical Hibernians? He was roused from his reverie by a shout from a sentry.  “Sir, a rider coming in!”

To his relief he saw that it was his despatch rider who slid from his mount and saluted in one movement.  “Sir I found the Decurion Princeps. He has made contact with the barbarians.  There are hundreds of the bastards sir and he has found the rest of the ala. He said he would send reinforcements as soon as he could.”

“Thank you trooper. Now rest. Cicero.”

The decurion awoke quickly and looked around for danger. “Sir?”

“The Decurion Princeps is coming but so are the barbarians. I want a defensive line building there.” He pointed to a point a hundred paces down where the pass narrowed slightly. “I know the men are tired but…”

“Don’t worry sir.  I think that the rescue of the women has given them a second wind.  They all feel like heroes now.”

As night fell the exhausted men dropped and slept where they stood.  Cicero had collapsed asleep and Metellus found himself the one who was most alert.  He knew it was the pain in his leg which throbbed and pulsed which kept him awake, but he was grateful.  He had ten men on guard, five watching the top of the pass and five watching for the barbarians at the eastern end. His ears were fully attuned to the sounds of the night, his old Explorate training kicking in and it was he who recognised the noise.  He hissed, “Stand to!”

Cicero and the rest of the troopers awoke in an instant.  The couple of hours’ sleep they had had were refreshing enough to make them alert. “What is it sir?”

“I heard horses, coming from the east.” Cicero listened and then looked sceptically at his leader whom he assumed was delirious with pain. Metellus smiled.  “Trust me Cicero there are riders approaching.  Put you ear to the ground and listen.”

After a few moments Cicero jumped up.  “You are right sir. That is a handy little trick.”

Suddenly they heard a horse neigh and the jingle of harness. “Prepare to receive cavalry!”

 

Chapter 11

The voice called from the dark. “Appius Calpurnius and the third turma coming in.”

Cicero called out, “Watch them it may be a trick,” and was gratified when Metellus nodded his approval.

They were all relieved when the reinforcements arrived. The chosen man dismounted and, recognising him, approached Metellus. “Decurion Princeps compliments sir.  He is on his way with the ala.” The trooper leaned and said a little more quietly. “He said to prepare yourself, things could get lively.”

“Thank you Appius. If your men are up to it could they relieve these guards?  They have been on duty for a day and a half.”

“Of course sir.”

Metellus fell back into a deep sleep, the pain suddenly gone.  With reinforcements they could survive, at least for a short time.

******

Julius saw the boat being rowed up the Tinea towards Coriosopitum.  He and Hercules were standing at the stern of The Swan with Furax, grown considerably, intently listening. “So old friend, you made good time then?”

“Aye.  I remembered that at this time of the year there are good winds from the south.” He gestured at the rowing boat. “I think that one is from the three biremes we saw astern of us eh Furax.”

“Yes.  I can now tell a Roman ship from a pirate.”

“His young eyes make up for my old ones.”

“And the ship Hercules, it is sound?”

“We spent the winter re-caulking her and renewing the rigging.  She is as good now as the day she was launched.” He looked suspiciously at Julius, the owner of his ship.  “Why have you something planned?”

“Let us just say that I will be taking a voyage with you but I will wait with the details until I have spoken with the Governor.”

“The Governor?”

“Yes Furax.  He is the man in the stern of the rowing boat. I will see you later. If you could turn it around, we will be ready for a quick getaway.”

Muttering under his breath the old men began to shout out orders. Since he had met Julius Demetrius his life was anything but dull.

Later, in the Prefect’s quarters the two Legates shared information. “The rebels were soon despatched by the legion and as I said I brought the vexillation up on the three ships of the Classis Britannica to make a start on the limes.”

“And the ringleaders?  Did you ascertain their identity?”

“Yes my interrogators questioned the survivors.” Julius shuddered, the interrogators were renowned for their cruel tortures. “It appears that the warrior who led them was the son of a trader, Antoninus Brutus.  He was called Gaius Brutus.  The two of them were last heard of heading southwest. I have sent Gaius Saturninus in pursuit.  His regular cavalry will catch them. And there was a connection to here.” Julius looked up in interest. “They were advised by an ex- trooper and some deserters.  He was called The General but apparently he was known as The Fist.”

“That is a local connection.  Livius will be interested in that news. The raiders were last seen heading west. The ala is in close pursuit and they appear to be making for the coast and Manavia.”

“Can the ala destroy them?”

“Unlikely.  There were almost two thousand of them originally and, even with losses, they will still seriously outnumber Cassius.  No they can only follow.”

“Well good riddance and the sooner our defences are up the more secure I will feel.”

“What do you mean, ‘good riddance’?” Julius looked suspiciously at his old friend. “We have to get the captives back.”

Falco looked bemused.  “Why? They are women and children and…”

Julius did not give him the chance to finish. “If we do not do anything then it sends a message to the Brigante.  It says that we do not care and their women and children are irrelevant. They have shown, in this failed rebellion, that they are unhappy.  This might just be the catalyst to set them off.  If we can return them safely then it will send a message to the Brigante and we will reap the benefit.” He paused and allowed himself to calm down.  He felt himself almost bursting and knew that his face was red and angry. “If these Hibernians get back and tell others how easy it is to raid Britannia then we will be opening up more problems than we can handle and the
limes
will not be enough. Already this coast is riddled with pirate raids, do you really want boat loads of Irish pirates coming to make their fortune at Rome’s expense?  We would need to build a wall all the way around the coast and not just across the country.”

Pompeius held up his hands in mock surrender.  “I give up and you are right but what can you do about it?”

Smiling slyly at the Governor Julius said, “Give me two of your biremes and I will tell you.”

******

Faolan saw the fort at Glanibanta loom up in the twilight and breathed a sigh of relief.  The charred remnants would provide both shelter and defence.  The presence of the cavalry was unnerving the warband even though they knew that they were safe from a major attack.  Cassius had sent in small groups of troopers to harass the rearguard with javelins. The warriors there had all developed stiff necks from looking backwards over their shoulders. Although they had not lost many men it was a war of attrition and they were losing.

Loegaire and Angus huddled besides the fire eating the last of the increasingly rancid meat taken from Stanwyck. “It is straight across country now to the pass isn’t it Angus?” Faolan was seeking confirmation because he remembered coming directly from the west. “We are less than a day from Creagth.”

Picking a piece of indigestible gristle from between his teeth Angus pointed north. “If you go west then you are inviting trouble for the cavalry can spread out more and attack us from a number of sides at once.”

Loegaire was tired of the retreat from this pitifully small band of soldiers.  He wanted to fight.  “If they attack us then we fight them, man to man on horses.”

“And you would all die.  You,“ he pointed at the two of them, “are not horsemen.  You are men riding horses.  They,“ he pointed east, “are horsemen and they could fight you three to one and still win.”

Sullenly Faolan nodded; unpleasant though it was, Angus was speaking the truth. “What is your idea then?”

“Head north and then west.  There is a trail bounded by the river and the bluffs, just like the country of the long lake.  They could not attack us.”

“But it would take longer.”

“Yes Loegaire it would take longer, about half a day.”

“Suppose we divided the army.” Both Angus and Loegaire looked at their leader in surprise.  “Well Angus, as you pointed out we are just men on horses but we can move faster.  If I take the horsemen towards the pass then some of the Romans will follow us.  You could take the men on foot the safer way. For you it is no different to your plan but it means that, when I reach the pass I will have a hundred men to defend you and the rest as you brave the open ground before the pass.”

Angus could see no flaw in the plan but he did not trust Faolan. “And you would wait for us at the pass?”

“How many times do I have to tell you that it is in my interests to bring as many warriors as I can to Manavia to support my attempt on the throne?”

“Very well but I need you and your horsemen to make a feint, as though you are going to charge the Romans first.  That will give us a head start and, confuse them.”

“That is a good plan. Until the morrow.”

Cassius’ pickets were suddenly surprised the following morning when there were fifty mounted Hibernians arrayed before them, armed to the teeth, looking ready for war. Racing back to the camp they alerted the Decurion Princeps who quickly ordered the ala to stand to.  He and Marcus rode quickly to the picket line. “What in the Allfather’s name are they doing?”

“It looks to me as though they are tired of being chased and intend to fight us.”

Just then Faolan let out a roar and the line of barbarians hurtled towards the fifteen pickets. Cassius knew that they would be overwhelmed and he yelled, “Retreat!” The seventeen of them made a rapid retreat, through the trees to their camp, where Macro had taken charge and begun to dismantle the temporary refuge. When Cassius and the others raced into the partly dismantled camp Macro quickly ordered everyone to stand to.

They all stood, blades facing west, waiting for the onslaught; the onslaught which didn’t materialise. “Where are they Marcus?  They were right behind us.” Cassius peered into the west but could see nothing.  Was this a trap? There was nothing for it but to face the beast head on.” Mount up!” As they trotted forwards Cassius decided that the dismantling of the camp could wait until they had found out what was going on.  They rode gingerly forwards, every nerve end jangling as they waited for the rain of arrows or the crash of blade on flesh. When they reached the picket line they could see no sign of the enemy; it was deserted. Marcus ordered scouts out and Cassius sent Spurius back with his turma to complete the dismantling of the fort. When the scouts returned Cassius knew he had been outwitted.

“Sir the horses have headed due west and the main warband has headed north.”

Other books

0451416325 by Heather Blake
Bad Dog by Martin Kihn
Owen's Daughter by Jo-Ann Mapson
Revolutionaries by Eric J. Hobsbawm
Max: A Stepbrother Romance by Brother, Stephanie
Dragon's Boy by Jane Yolen
The Reaper by Peter Lovesey
Reckless by William Nicholson
Man-Kzin Wars XIV by Larry Niven
The Moneylenders of Shahpur by Helen Forrester