Hosker, G [Sword of Cartimandua 09] Hero of Rome (12 page)

“How long to break into the farmhouse?”

Angus shook his head in disbelief.  Faolan was determined to get into the farm at all costs. “Why? We would lose many men if we did so.”

“There is something in the farm I want.”

“The Sword?  I am not sure it is there.  They would have used it as a rallying cry.”

Faolan agreed with Angus but he remembered Morwenna’s words.  The farm was the home of the sword bearer.  If he slaughtered all in the farm then the sword would follow him no matter where he went.  Like Angus he was ready to leave but he had one more throw of the dice left. “How long for us to break in and not lose too many men?”

Angus sighed.  He would need to come up with a good plan which would facilitate their departure. His eye was caught by the huge stand of trees. “Chop down that tree and make a ram. Attack them tonight when the men are rested and then use fire arrows to set the place alight.  I would not want to be here this time tomorrow for even the slow armoured Romans will have sent reinforcements by then.”

Faolan agreed with the Manavian and set Loegaire to chopping down the tree. “Rest those not engaged in cutting down the tree and make sure they are fed for when the tree is down then we will end this.  Those cutting down the tree can rest when we attack.” They had plenty of food looted from Stanwyck and Faolan wanted to travel lightly and quickly when they left.”

Inside the farm a heated debate was taking place. “I am not throwing you out First Spear; I am offering you a chance to save you and most of your men.”

The centurion was an honourable man and he did not want to abandon this brave old soldier and his men.  “What makes you think we can escape undetected?”

Cato pointed towards the Hibernians, clearly visible from the tower upon which they stood. “We can see that they are to the south.  They have not encircled us,” he shrugged. “Either they are incompetent or fear being attacked by relief from Morbium. The way north is clear.”

“In which case why cannot we all leave?”

Gaius shook his head.  “They would see that we had deserted the walls. Do not worry, First Spear, I will ask for volunteers.” He gestured at the litters with the wounded. “It is their only chance and, to be honest, I am being selfish.  If you get to Morbium then there are more men to protect my family and they are more valuable to me than these stones.” He lowered his voice. “Cato and I have said our goodbyes. It is time to meet my comrades and the Allfather.”

First Spear could see the sincerity and recognised the wisdom.  He nodded.  “I promise you I will protect your family for as long as I live.” He clasped his arm and then descended. He turned to Lucius. “Gather the men and prepare them.  We are leaving.”

Within a short time Lucius had all the men readied. First Spear looked on in amazement as every one of Gaius’ men refused to leave, knowing that they were going to die. “You had better go.  I can hear chopping in the woods so they are planning something.  When they realise you have left they may depart themselves.”

First Spear shook his head, “You know that is not true. But we will honour you.  Come Lucius let us get the men moving.”

“Sorry sir but I am staying.” Before First Spear could say anything Lucius lifted up his armour to show the wound. “I am finding it hard to breathe.  This is a death wound.  I would slow you up and I would like to die honourably, with my sword in my hand amongst these brave fellows.”

First Spear understood and he clasped his arm. “May the Allfather be with you.”

The ramparts seemed deserted and sparsely guarded by the twenty odd men who manned it. The auxiliaries ghosted silently northwards leaving only the buried comrades who had fallen and those who were about to fall. Gaius looked at Lucius.  “Well Centurion it looks like we will be greeting the Allfather together.”

“For my part I am honoured to be in such illustrious company as two of the men who rode with Marcus’ Horse. My story will now be told alongside yours but my name will live on.”

“Your comrades will tell of your bravery Centurion and that is our reward; it is good to know that those who fought with us will remember us and in that we live forever; just as I remember those who fell before me, and await me, Ulpius, Decius, Macro and Marcus.”

Suddenly the air was filled with flaming arrows which descended like fiery rain.  At the same time they heard the roar as a hand picked band of warriors threw themselves and their ram at the gate.  Even had First Spear and his men remained they could have done little.  Every man was forced to hold his shield above his head to protect himself from the arrows which allowed those with the ram the freedom from attack. The gate was a strong one but, at the second attempt it burst open and the frustrated warriors burst in, eager to wreak revenge on those who had stood in their way.  As they filled the courtyard they were bemused. Where were the defenders? They were answered by the arrows which poured on their unprotected backs.  Had Faolan left his archers to continue their deadly torrent then the defenders would have been less effective but, having seen the gate open, he had ordered all of his men through the gate.

“Stay on the ramparts.  It is our only hope.”

The Brigante defenders kept firing at the barbarians who were largely unarmoured. Had they had unlimited ammunition they could have held out for longer but as the quivers emptied the attackers were able to climb the rickety ladders to the ramparts. The first few who made it were despatched easily, they were isolated, but as more and more men made the ramparts the outnumbered defenders fell.  None asked for quarter for they knew they would be given none and they fought on despite the life sapping wounds they endured. They fought in double trust, first as the oathsworn of Gaius and secondly to protect their families now sheltering in Morbium. The more of these barbarians they killed the better the chance of survival their families had.

It was fitting that the last three were Gaius, Lucius and Cato. One glance at Lucius told Gaius that the brave Centurion had but minutes to live.  The savage slash across his stomach showed his intestines which rippled out to hang like a strange armour.  Saluting with his sword the brave centurion hurled himself at the three warriors who were advancing on them. The four crashed to the ground ten paces below. Lucius and two of them lay dead and the third had a broken back. Gaius and Cato stood back to back. The warriors who advanced had to do so in single file for the walkway was narrow. Below, Faolan hurled his curses as warrior after warrior fell to the two calm old men who were buying time for First Spear. It was only a matter of time before they would fall for Cato, although a trooper was not a swordsman and, inevitably he fell.  As in life he died without fuss, silently but with sword in hand.  Gaius knew that he was alone as the body slid down his back. Now surrounded, he smiled and roared out his challenge.  “Come on you whorsesons and meet the steel of the last warrior who fought for Cartimandua!” Oblivious to the blows he took he hacked his way forward, discarding the shield which was chopped to shreds. Taking his pugeo out, he still advanced despite the deep cuts which were slowly sapping his life’s blood from his body. Finally one of those standing below, with Faolan, took the opportunity to hurl a spear which embedded itself in his side, the impetus of the missile throwing the lifeless body over the palisade to lie untidily across the discarded ram.

The silence which fell over the bloody battleground seemed unreal and supernatural. As Faolan glanced around he saw that there was but one auxiliary and the rest were farmers.  They had been held up by old men and boys! That thought made him wonder about the treasure of the sword.  They would not have fought that hard if they were defending but stones. “Search the farm, dig up the ground.  I want all the treasure and weapons you can find.” As his men set to, eager to gather plunder, Faolan turned to Loegaire. “Prepare our horses and my guards.  If the Romans return I want to be able to escape quickly.”

“And the sword?”

“If it is not here then our destruction of this place will make it follow us.  I would prefer to fight them on ground of my choosing in the west.” He gave a wry smile, “I think we have outlived our welcome here and we have enough now for the throne.”

“Aye we do.”

******

When Decius and Ailis saw the remnants of the cohort bringing their wounded through the gates they knew the worst.  Their father and husband had joined the Allfather, meeting again Gaelwyn, Decius, Macro, Marcus and Ulpius. They had mixed emotions for they knew that it was the death he had sought but they were sad for themselves and their loss. It was they who were left to mourn. As First Spear entered and saw them he and his signifier stood to attention and saluted.  It was as fitting an end as could have been wished.

 

Chapter 7

Fortunately for Eboracum, Hadrian had made a wise choice in his Governor for Falco was both calm was level headed; he was not a man to panic when the refugees began flooding through the gates of the legionary fortress.  Already warned by the messenger from Morbium, he had delayed the legionary vexillation’s departure. The erection of the
limes
was not urgent but a raid in the heartland was.  He sent a rider to Coriosopitum to requisition some of the cavalry.  Although he knew they were stretched he also knew that the mixed Gallic cohort should have arrived at the frontier alleviating some of the paucity of resources at the frontier. He also commandeered every vessel in port and their cargo.  The captains bleated but Falco wanted to ensure that they could survive a siege.  Finally he had ordered a cohort of the Second Augusta to be sent to Eboracum as a reserve in case of events worsening. He tried to cover every eventuality

******

When Julius received the message from his fellow Legate he rode directly to Rocky Point to deliver the request in person.  He hoped that Hercules and the Swan would arrive soon for he wanted to be able to travel between the frontier and the Governor both quickly and safely. As soon as Livius saw Julius enter he knew that there was trouble. The Legate knew Livius too well to beat around the bush. “We have an uprising of the Brigante close to Eboracum.  And there is worse news there are Irish raiders at Stanwyck and Morbium and the Governor has requested your cavalry.”

Eboracum was a fortress and had been attacked before; Livius felt that it would be safe but Stanwyck?  It was a peaceful settlement and, to make matters worse, close to Gaius and Ailis. Livius looked around at the half built fort.  “I know we need to help the Dunum valley but what about the
limes
?  What about the Selgovae?  If we pull out then they will pour across the frontier and the problem will be even worse.”

“I said I wanted your cavalry.  You will stay here.”

“On my own! I think you seriously overestimate my abilities Julius.”

Julius laughed. “No not on your own.  The Gallic auxiliaries are here.  They arrived in Coriosopitum yesterday. Their Prefect died on the way.  I want you to take temporary command of them until this trouble is sorted.  You can billet their horsemen in your forts and the infantry here.”

“Who will command my men?”

“Cassius I assume.”

Livius shook his head.  “He and three turmae are off to Glanibanta to check on the garrison there.”

“Send a message to him and tell him to head directly to Morbium.  Rufius can take charge until then.” Julius could see Livius biting back his anger. “I know what you are thinking Livius. You do all this work and then have to leave it half way through well I am sorry but the barbarians just aren’t cooperating. Had this been in a few months’ time we would have had legionaries up here and the Gallic cohort would have been trained but this is the reality and there is nothing we can do about it.”

Livius’ shoulders sagged and he sighed, “You are right and I know it.  I just wish Rome knew it.” He turned to Julius Longinus who had been hearing every word, “Write out the…”

“I am already begun.”

Livius smiled at the Legate. “You see you could cut out the middleman and save so much time.” As they left the Principia, Livius asked, “Do you think we can hold on sir?”

“I don’t know Livius.  This attack has come from nowhere. The Selgovae were to be expected, especially after Metellus’ report but not Glanibanta, that was a shock.  There are few forts in the west and now that side of the country is open to raids across the frontier for the Prefect at Luguvalium will be stretched beyond belief.”

“You know what I fear the most?”

“Morwenna.”

“Exactly and knowing how she feels about her son perhaps I ought to retain Macro here.”

The two of them left the fort and peered northwards across the magnificent yet bleak and empty land which rolled northwards. “Would he thank you for it?” Livius shook his head. “Would he obey or would he desert to be with his brother?  Perhaps you could leave both brothers here and protect them too?”

“Enough sir.  I can see where you are going and besides it may not be Morwenna.”

“The reports did suggest Hibernians and it is known that she used those as her bodyguards. “

“If this is some plot of Morwenna’s then I know that the next focus of their attack will be Gaius’ farm.  I hope they escaped to Morbium in time.”

“Gaius was always a canny warrior.  He will be safe; of that I have no doubt.”

******

The Fist was not sure that the ‘army’ he commanded was ready for revolution. The two thousand young warriors were well armed and trained to fight efficiently and they were keen to fight but, having seen many recruits in his career, these did not appear to have the backbone to carry a campaign through to its conclusion. He was preparing for flight, he had already hidden his gold and had the best horse in the army.  When things went awry, as he knew they would then he would escape.  He had heard that Manavia was recruiting mercenaries such as he and he knew that Rome’s influence would never extend to the realm of the Witch Queen. He would do as requested, he would advise but he would assiduously avoid any fighting.  The whelps of Brutus’ army would do the fighting, the bleeding and the dying.

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