Hosker, G [Sword of Cartimandua 01] The Sword of Cartimandua (15 page)

“But tribune the horses will suffer.  There is little enough feed for them as it is.  Would it not be better to rest them for the campaigns next year?”

“Prefect I have made my decision. Carry out your orders!” With that the tribune left.

The two cavalrymen looked at each other. “He is a fool”

“Yes Ulpius but he is the commander and he makes the decisions. Perhaps when the military governor comes we may be better off but I do not know the man.” He looked closely at the decurion princeps. “How hard do they fight?”

“They are wild. They appear to have no regard for their own safety. They hurl themselves at man and horse. One wound will not slow them down. My men learned early that you go for the killing blow for they will not stop until either you or they are dead. If Venutius has an army of them it may be harder than we think.”

“Wine?”

“Aye I need that.” He took a long draught. “There is something else.  My Brigante scouts speak of people from the north, allies of Venutius who are even more ferocious.  They fight naked and paint their bodies blue.” The prefect laughed. “I do not jest and I believe my scouts.”

“I do not laugh at you for I have heard the same.  The queen told me of these people. Until her marriage to Venutius, the Brigante were plagued by raids. No, I smile at the thought of a man fighting naked. Why is it that the fools think that a bit of blue paint will stop an arrow? I prefer mail and good discipline.”

“That is one good thing. They wear little armour but their weapons are good. At least they have few archers otherwise we would suffer.”

“Is there any other news I can pass on to Governor Bolanus when he arrives?”

“There are no roads. There is little food and no shelter. It will be a hard campaign. There is little grass for the horses. The hill forts are only made of wood and earth but they will need legions to take them.”

“Rest. I will send the other troopers out on patrol. Ready your men and watch yourself. I fear the tribune does not like you.”

“I have shat bigger turds than him.”

“Maybe but those turds couldn’t have you crucified; he can, without even blinking.  I have met his type before. He was born into power and he thinks that we are little more than slaves. Remember how Romans treat slaves. Think on that.”

The sun was setting when Ulpius finally got around to thinking about the queen.  He had been away some time. Perhaps she had someone else to pleasure her. Perhaps he had dreamed the whole experience. Perhaps he had imagined it to have greater import than she. He did not know what to do. He decided to walk past her dwelling it was on the way to the kitchen area.

As he strode through the camp acknowledging the shouts, waves and salutations from comrades he did not notice the fat quartermaster studying him through half lidded eyes. The ex-soldier was on his way to see the spy with the information he had gleaned from the tribune’s clerk a man whose indiscretions were known by Cresens and who was the fount of most of his information. He would get money for his information and then he would get the poison that would rid him of Ulpius and regain him his power.

Ulpius for all his confidence with his men was less confident with women- the camp followers and whore were not a problem but the queen was a different proposition. The two guards saluted as he went by the door to her domus. He was about to head for the canteen when he felt a tug on his sleeve. He turned quickly and saw that it was Macha. She spoke quietly and softly so that the grizzled warrior had to bend down to listen.

“My lady would speak with you.  Follow me.”

Ulpius was perplexed as he turned towards the doorway.  What was the queen thinking? The guards would surely see him enter and then the whole camp would know. Just as he arrived at the door Lenta came to see them. “The Queen would have words with your leader about the state of her kingdom.  She is not pleased that you did not report to her immediately upon your return!” The girl played her part remarkably well and her scolding tone made the hint of a smile appear on the faces of the two guards who took great pleasure in the apparent discomfort of a decurion princes.

“I am sorry lady but I had to speak with the tribune.  My time is now hers for as long as she needs me.”

With that he entered. Cartimandua did not speak a word she just threw her arms around him and kissed oblivious to the startled looks from Lenta and Macha who quickly scurried into their own room. After an embrace which seemed to last forever she murmured into his ear. “You are so cruel; you knew I was waiting for you.”

“I was trying to be, what is the word? Discreet.”

Cartimandua threw her head back and gave such a heartily and loud laugh that the guards turned in surprise at the noise emanating from the domus. “I was never known for my discretion my love but come,” she led him by the hand to her bed and lay him on it.  All the time she was speaking to him she was undressing and kissing him. “I have news, Great news.  Well it is to me.  We are to have a child.”

Ulpius looked up in shock. “A child but how?”

“The how is easy.  When we lay together a child was created but in truth I thought my child bearing days behind me. The gods had other plans.”

“When will it…”

“In seven moons or perhaps eight.”

They kissed and he began undressing her. He was already engorged and the queen hungrily took his whole length in her mouth. Using his great strength he rolled her on her back and was about to enter her when he stopped.

“The child?”

The queen thrust herself onto him. “The child will be fine it is the mother who needs this.”

Their lovemaking went on well into the early hours of the morning. The guards were changed. Lenta and Macha went to collect some food and still they coupled, seemingly insatiable. When Ulpius could no longer raise himself they lay in each other’s arms.

“What will your people think?”

“My people do not think much at all and they certainly don’t think of me. If they did think they would believe that it was Venutius’ or Vellocatus’.”

“And are you happy about that?” His one eye searched her face for deception or lies but could see only truth and love.

“I am happy that we will have a child and more I believe it will be a son and one day he will rule this whole land.  He will be the union of Brigante and Rome.”

Ulpius smiled at her.  “I am Roman as a soldier but I am Pannonian by birth.  I think our son will be the better for that for he will have my warrior skill and your mind and,” he bent down to kiss her eyelids, “your beauty.” The rest of the night saw them continue their lovemaking until they felt asleep, exhausted in each other’s arms.

Lenta and Macha had been asleep long before the two lovers but they had heard all the lovemaking.

“When will you take a man sister?”

Macha looked at her younger sister. “When the right man comes along.  It does not always happen quickly, look at our sister. She has seen almost forty summers and now she as found the right man.”

“The right man?  How can you be sure?”

“Look at her eyes, listen to the words when she talks of him, look how they are together and look at the man. He may be scarred but it is on the outside. Venutius was scarred on the inside. Ulpius Felix is a good man.  He is like the noblest of we Brigante.  He will protect her.”

“You have not answered me. When will you take a man? Has not the right one come along?” There was a mischievous lilt to her voice and she suppressed a grin when Macha coloured bright red.

“You are foolish.  I do not know what you mean.”

Realising that she had made her point she turned over to sleep leaving her sister aching for Marcus between her legs making her feel like a woman.

Chapter 9

When Venutius heard the reports from Brennus he seethed with anger. The warriors he had lost were a grave blow but the lack of supplies from the lands to the east of the hills was an even more disastrous loss.  He had hoped to weaken his enemies but they had weakened him. None of his roving bands had returned with any provender and those who had arrived had all suffered wounds at the hands of the Roman cavalry.  Venutius wondered if his subordinate had sent the right men.  He knew that some of his warriors were little more than robbers; they served a purpose but he would have preferred to use warriors who had the aim of driving the Romans into the sea rather than raping women and butchering cattle. The Romans had surprised him; he had thought them soft and unwilling to campaign in the harsh land of Brigantia.  He had learned a valuable lesson. The reports from his spy were even more alarming for the spirits of the Romans were high and the fortress was already a formidable structure. The jetties and docks at the river mean that supplies were coming into the heart of the fortress making his enemies stronger and stronger.  Soon they might be too strong for him. He resolved to contact the Novontae, Selgovae and Voltadini.  With those tribes supporting him even the mighty Roman army might be beaten.

Leaving his chiefs he went into his hut where he kept those sacred objects given to him by Fainch. Perhaps he had not made enough sacrifices, enough promises to the Earth Mother. Before he met with his allies he would make another sacrifice. He had seen a small child prisoner brought from Stanwyck, it was rumoured she was related to the Queen. She would make a worthy sacrifice and the Earth Mother would drink her blood and look kindly on his endeavours.

The Roman army was represented by someone who at this moment was not happy with life in Britannia. Marcus Bolanus hated everything about this forsaken corner of the Empire. If it were not for the gold rumoured to be hidden under the wild mountains to the west there would be no reason to be here.  He peered out of his carriage at the windswept uplands without a tree in sight. He cursed to himself. They would have arrived far sooner had it not been for the floods which forced him and his forces up into the higher, colder more desolate land. The early winter rains had turned the wide plains into an enormous lake. As his carriage crashed and jolted he wondered if this land would ever have real roads and civilisation. He had plotted and schemed his way through various minor posts, he had destroyed many lives and literally taken some. He came from a noble patrician family who had fallen on hard times when they chose the wrong leader.  He was determined never to have hard times himself.  He was now as rich as any man in Rome but he dreamed of more money. He had secured this post so that he could acquire some of the fabled gold and copper this land held but first he had to destroy these barbarians and destroy them he would. He was already plotting his next move, out towards Parthia with its fabulous lapis lazuli and the lucrative spices. Then he would be the richest man in the world.

Once again he studied the reports he held in his hand.  At least Cartimandua was safe.  The revolt by Venutius and the uprising had been the reason his predecessor, Marcus Trebellius Maximus had returned to Rome in disgrace. He had been too mild mannered and had not been ruthless enough.  Marcus Vettius Bolanus would put down this rebellion and return to the luxury that was Rome by the next summer. At least he had a secure based now that he had built the legionary fortress at Lindum and he could call on a legion at a moment’s notice. He began to work out how he could claim the credit for the rescue of Cartimandua. Perhaps he would see a way when he reached the end of the world that was Eboracum.  He shivered back into his robes and tried to sleep his way there.

His clerk coughed discreetly waking the military governor from his disturbed rest. “We are here master.”

Bolanus peered out and although he had not anticipated much he was depressed by the sight which greeted him. The Roman camp as was the others spread throughout the Empire; perhaps a little sturdier than most temporary camps with towers solid looking gates.  That reassured him.  He would not be over-run by the savages of these parts. It was the rest which make him think about returning as soon as possible to Lindum. There was a straggle of huts close to the river with, what looked to him, like half naked savages. There appeared to be no stone to be seen and little evidence of either gold or jewels. He hoped he had not been misinformed about the riches of this land if so someone would pay dearly for their error. He glared at his clerk who shivered in fear.

“Well do you expect me to walk into the camp? Move!”

The guards at the gate recognised the retinue of the Military Governor and word was quickly sent to the tribune and prefect. As he rushed towards the tribune Saenius Augustinius was more than a little nervous.  He had had the support and the ear of his predecessor; would he enjoy the same privileges and perks? He licked his lips nervously. Had his letter to Vespasian arrived? He dreaded the possibility that it had been intercepted by one of the Governor’s spies for he had been less than complimentary about his superior.

Marcus Bolanus looked at the two men with distaste when he climbed down from his carriage.  One was a barbarian, an auxiliary whilst the other was small man nervously licking his lips, obviously the tribune. Although a Roman he looked more like a shopkeeper than a Roman officer. He did not deign to introduce himself; he assumed they would know who he was. “Well? Your report.”

Mentally the tribune sighed. From the governor’s comments he did not know of the letter to Vespasian. He was still safe. “Saenius Augustinius at your command. Perhaps we could go to my, er your quarters and be more comfortable.”

The governor peered round. “A ditch would be more comfortable than this. Lead on.”

..”And so I affected the rescue of the Queen’s half-sisters and the treasure.”

“I am pleased to hear that the tribune risks his life in the barbaric north for the Emperor.” Marcus looked keenly at the tribune whose account of the rescues sounded as though he was another Horatio at the bridge, a true Roman hero. His spies had told him a different story.

“You misunderstand. I didn’t actually go myself, I sent cavalry.  Just as I did when the Queen herself was rescued.”

Bolanus waved his hand dismissively, the information was not news it confirmed that his spies told him the truth.  “The box?  What was in it? Was it an artefact, a religious object? Come on man out with it!”