Hosker, G [Sword of Cartimandua 06] Druid's Gold (3 page)

“Your majesty?” She lowered the beaker and peered over the steaming rim at the fearful warrior who had begun to wish that his men had not suggested this impertinence. “The men wondered, we all wondered, well, was the child deformed, or sick in some way?”

She nodded and Tadgh breathed a sigh of relief. Sickly babies were often left to die, perhaps not murdered but it was an understandable act and in many ways a kindness. “He was deformed for it was a male child and there will be no male children born here.” She stroked her swollen stomach. “This one will be a female but if the Mother is unhappy with us as she was with Anchorat then it too will die.”

As he trotted down the trail he shook his head.  He had tried to explain it to his men but he could see that they were as perplexed as he was.  Perhaps when Aodh returned he would be able to explain, Aodh could always explain things to the men that they found difficult to understand.  Especially when the subject matter was women.  Tadgh had wanted to ask more questions but the look on Morwenna’s face had frightened him so much that he had decided to be discreet and depart.

As he reached the edge of the forest and the clearing he paused and sniffed the air, like an animal would. He knew the smells as well as the sights and sounds of this new kingdom. He had learned that smells, especially strange smells, carried huge distances and he had found it the best way to discover strangers.  So far they had only had to kill and dispose of four hapless travellers who were heading from Glanibanta to the coast. He suspected that, as spring became summer,  the numbers of travellers would increase but he was determined to keep their presence a secret, at least until Aodh returned and it became the leader’s responsibility.

He suddenly stopped.  There was a new smell; it was a mixture of garlic, oil and leather, only one creature carried that combination of scents- Romans. He dropped on to his hands and knees and began to crawl through the undergrowth down the hillside towards the rough and twisted track which wound its way along the valley sides. Tadgh made not a sound as he felt his way along the ground which was mercifully free of either dead leaves or branches both of which would have exposed him to a sharp eared sentry. His silence enabled him to hear the chatter of the legionaries and the crunch of their nail soled caligae. As soon as he heard them he froze. He knew from their voices that they were close but he was far enough from the trail and camouflaged by the bushes to avoid detection. The closer their voices came the greater the tension the warrior felt and unanswered questions rattled around his head.  How many were there?  Were they looking for them? Did it presage an invasion of this land? As the small group trooped along the path below him he almost breathed a sigh of relief.  They were not a patrol hunting for rebels; the mule and tools told him that they were building something.  When they had travelled some distance down the path away from him he began to back track their route; only by doing so would he know if they were alone or part of a larger force.

Their trail was clear for an expert tracker such as Tadgh and he smiled with satisfaction when he found the signs of their camp at the deserted fort at Glanibanta. As he trotted back to the cave he pondered on the problem.  They were obviously a detachment from a larger force and as such would have to report back at some point.  What if they were paving the way for a legion?  That would mean that the hidden sanctuary of the cave would be at risk and with it the life of the Queen. She was heavily pregnant and Tadgh knew enough about women to realise that it would be a bad time to move her.  He had to delay any departure and that meant eliminating the detachment. There was no legion close by and it might buy them the time for the babies to be born and for Aodh to return from Caledonia.

Morwenna’s keen eyes bored into Tadgh and he had the frightening feeling that she was reading his thoughts.  He words confirmed this. “There is a problem Tadgh?”

“Romans your majesty.  Only a detachment at the moment but it means a larger force will soon be here and in your condition…” The words hung in the air.

“Do not fear for us Tadgh for the Mother protects us and we are not the weak vessels which are men but it is not convenient for us to move at the moment.  What do you suggest?”

“There are only seven of them and I have twenty warriors.  We could ambush them and dispose of their bodies in the lake. Eventually they would be missed but they would have to look all along the trail to find out where they had gone”

“How much time would that give us?”

Tadgh shrugged for whatever answer he gave would come back to haunt him.  “Three or four weeks would be as long as I would care to take the risk.”

“By which time Aodh and his Caledonii brethren should be here.  Do it.”

So the fate of the old Optio and his six young comrades was sealed. Tadgh and his warriors armed themselves for combat for the first time since the first snows had fallen.  All of them were glad to be doing that which they loved, hunting Romans.  It would not be a fair combat, twenty against seven, but they all remembered the battles where they had been pitted against the mighty legions and seen comrades mowed down by the arrows and artillery of an army which liked to fight at a distance; the Brigante way was face to face and toe to toe, look the man in the eye when you killed him.  This would be partial revenge.

They found the detachment unloading their equipment at the edge of a wood.  The land before them dropped gently to a small lake and then rose to a mighty pass towards the west. Tadgh nodded to himself.  They were obviously measuring for a road and this would be a camp once they had finished their work. He gestured for half of his men to spread north while he took the remainder south.  They needed to attack from both sides at the same time. There was no hurry or rush needed, the detachment was going nowhere and Tadgh took his time, confident that Brennus, his brother, who led the other group, would attack once Tadgh had launched his assault.  The leader knew that his men wanted to slay the Romans in single combat, as he would, but he had the Queen to think of.  He could not afford any losses amongst his twenty men and he had fought the Romans enough to respect them as warriors.  Even old men like the crested leader of this detachment would be a good soldier with the deadly gladius. His men had their bows ready and when he nodded nine arrows flew through the air.  As Tadgh watched them he saw another flight from the north. One legionary shouted a belated warning and managed to grab his shield but for the rest it was a swift death as two arrows hit each man.  The legionary took one in the leg but still bravely grabbed his sword ready to defend himself.

Tadgh ran across the open ground with his mighty war hammer in his hand.  The legionary had to crouch slightly because of the arrow in his leg but he pull his shield close to his face and held the gladius angled upwards ready to slash at the unprotected body of the wild warrior who was racing rapidly towards him. Tadgh had fought enough Romans to understand their tactics. In a line the legion was unbeatable as each man protected his comrade to his left with his shield. The man at the end of each line was normally the best warrior. Here the young legionary was isolated and Tadgh almost felt sorry for him as he smashed the war hammer against the shield. The blow broke the young man’s arm and both the shattered shield and broken arm dropped uselessly to his side.  He bravely held out his sword but it was no protection from the next blow which smashed into the side of his skull driving the metal cheek guards into the brain of the young legionary who died instantly. “You died well boy. Gather the weapons and then throw the bodies and other equipment into the lake.  Put the weapons on the mules and then get rid of any evidence that there was a fight here.”

Later, as they walked back to the cave Tadgh looked around the site; it was as though nothing had occurred and the seven men had never existed.  Their armour had dragged the bodies to the bottom of the murky lake and would never be discovered.  They would be reported as a lost detachment in the empty wilds of Britannia, a memory only to their comrades in the Ninth and a tale told to terrify new recruits in the inns at Eboracum.

*

Livius looked at the twenty volunteers before him and suppressed the urge to embrace every one of the remaining troopers from Marcus’ Horse who had chosen to join his Exploratores. Julius had stayed on before he returned to Rome to help the young officer with the training of the new unit. It had taken him but two days to be able to decide that Livius knew what he was doing.  “You understand the idea guar better than I young Livius. I would be thinking of charges and movements of vast numbers of men.  You have grasped the concept of subtlety and congealment in a way which is foreign to me and that is not an insult. That is me giving you the respect of one leader to another.  You do not need me but the legions need you.”

So Livius stood before the twenty warriors looking at the unit which had been created but five days earlier. Each man was a trained cavalryman and Livius had had no need to worry about horsemanship or weapon training. He knew that they were all excellent trackers but what he needed to instil in each man was the belief that he could operate as an individual, without an officer to give orders and instructions.  He knew they had the ability but he needed to give them the belief and now, after five days he was well on the way to that aim.  The powers above him had decided that training was no longer necessary and they needed the new skills of the Explorates before the invasion of the north could begin in earnest.

He rode down the line of troopers looking each man in the face. It pleased him that they returned his look and in each face he saw respect. It was what he had hoped for rather than expected as a right.  He knew that officers had to earn that respect from men whose lives were held in their fragile hands.

“Men this is new to all of us.  We are going somewhere we have never been before, not the land but the job.  I know each of you and I know that you will meet that challenge.  We are too few and already others are being trained to join us but they are not Marcus’ Horse and they do not have your experience.” He smiled as each man seemed to grow in the saddle, proud of his association with that proud ala. “We have no more time for training and we will be leaving tomorrow to undertake a new life which will be more dangerous and more hazardous than that which went before. You will notice that we do not have the spear and shield.  You will also notice that your armour is now carried on the spare horse.  We are not Marcus’ Horse, at least not in name nor in the way we work, just in the heart, the honour and the memory of lost comrades.  We now wear leather armour and use bows and swords.  We no longer operate in turmae but in pockets of five men and even that may be split. I am the only optio but each of you is a chosen man, chosen by me.  Each of you is equal and decisions on the field will be made by all.  You men have intelligence as well as ability and you will use them both.” He paused to let his words sink in.  He too was dubious about the success or failure they could expect. All men expected a leader to make decisions but each man was, in effect, a leader and he hopped they would fulfil the potential he knew they had. “My servant will deliver each group their orders tonight.  Read them and learn them then destroy them. Your orders will determine how long you are away from Eboracum. I will be operating in the west close to Glanibanta.  I tell you this not because I expect that you will need that information but because it is important that you know where I will be.” He raised his sword, “May the Allfather be with you. Marcus’ Horse!”

Each man roared proudly back, “Marcus’ Horse!”

The next day Livius took his five man patrol west.  The spare horse carried spears and armour in case they needed it but Livius was sure that when this first patrol was over they would be irrelevant.  In the weeks since he had been tasked with the creation of the unit he had thought long and hard about how it would work and decided that charges and individual combats were a thing of the past. They would have to be invisible, spectres, ghosts who were never seen only sensed. He hoped that the other fifteen men sent out on their patrols would not have to be sacrificed to enable others to learn from their mistakes.  He was determined that his patrol would learn and learn quickly. When he had chosen his orders it appeared the most difficult and the simplest of the four tasks. Engineers were scouting a new road in the west and Livius was to aid heir task by scouting ahead of them.  He had chosen the assignment because it operated the furthest from Eboracum and that made it dangerous but he knew the area well and finally it was the last area in which Morwenna had been seen.  If he was to find that arch fiend it would be there.

As they rode west along familiar roads Livius placed himself at the back of the small column so that he could assess the men with whom he would be working over the next months. Cassius had been his first choice.  He would be an optio as soon as they mustered more men. He was older than Livius and extremely dependable. He was rarely flustered and always made uncannily good decisions.  In many ways he was a good luck omen.

Rufius was out in front and he was the youngest of the group.  He was also the most recent recruit and the one about whom Livius knew the least but he had shown an enthusiasm and eagerness for combat which reminded Livius of Decurion Macro who had also been the one who desired to be the first into combat and the last from it. He also seemed to have Gaelwyn’s ability to follow tracks over stones.

Decius was the hothead; a fierce warrior who was abrasive in the group but also fiercely loyal.  He had incurred the wrath of many officers outside of Marcus’ Horse for the fights caused when he felt that the name of the ala had been slurred.  He was as loyal a man as one could want but Livius knew that he needed more self-control and then he would be a good trooper. If he thought first and then acted he would live longer.

Agrippa was, like Cassius an older man and Brigante to boot. He had been chosen by Livius for one reason and one reason only, Gaelwyn the old Brigante scout had rated him as a good tracker and that praise was enough to elevate the older, quieter man in Livius’ opinion.