“Why, what do you mean?” Cammius asked.
Varro hesitated, “My entire troop got wiped out a few years ago, I was the only one to survive and if I had been with them, I wouldn’t be here tonight.”
“What happened?” Cammius asked.
“We found ourselves surrounded by Caratacus or Caradoc, whatever he’s calling himself these days. We got ambushed and took refuge on this bloody great mountain well most of the survivors did anyway.” He said pausing.
“I heard about that, it was not long after we invaded wasn’t it?” Cammius asked. Without waiting for a reply he continued. “I was still in Germania at the time training recruits.” He returned to the subject, “The good old Twentieth came and pulled you out didn’t they?”
Varro stared at the table thinking back to the night he had spent alone on the hill watching the men of the Second Augusta fight for their lives. “Yes that’s the incident. Even the General took an arrow, not our finest moment.”
“Leading from the front though eh?” Cammius smiled. “He’s a good man Vespasian and a brilliant leader.” He emptied his cup and poured another, he saw Varro watching him. “Don’t worry I couldn’t get drunk even if I tried after tonight’s events.”
Vestius returned carrying wood for the fire, which he placed in the grate and on two iron burners that were free standing in the office. Within minutes the two centurions could feel the warmth from the flames.
“Argh that’s better eh, luxury compared to before.” Cammius said standing holding his fresh pants near a burner to warm them. “Shame we don’t have a hypocaust under the floor isn’t it?”
Varro laughed, “Somehow I don’t think the army cares that much for its soldiers in places like this.” He sat back and felt the wine and warmth begin to relax him. “So you don’t think they’ll come again tonight, the Britons?” He asked.
“I think we’ve seen the last of them until at least dawn, they’ll be out there in the rain trying to plug wounds and burning their dead if they can. It wouldn’t surprise me if they’ve vanished tomorrow.” He looked up at Varro and saw that he was falling asleep. He smiled and emptied his cup.
Chapter Nine
Their reconnaissance of Deva complete, Caradoc, Ardwen and Brennus left the newly established garrison town and began to ride slowly south. They had decided to go via the relatively small hilltop fort at Bees Stone to the south-east approximately fifteen miles away. It was far enough from the major garrison not to arouse suspicion as long as they weren’t found to be paying too much attention to it and the surrounding land. If they were recognised their plan was to claim ignorance about the Quaestor’s duties, they were merely traders seeking to sell their livestock to the men of the legions wherever they found them. The small fortification was easily identifiable from a distance, as it sat on a crag that rose up from the relatively flat plain of the surrounding countryside, nearly four hundred feet high. The fort’s walls gave a breath-taking view of the territories to the west, lands that were held by allies of Caradoc, the Ordovices and further to the north, the Deceangli. These lands were hostile to the men of the legions and the sight of the dark mountains in the distance covered in trees did nothing to encourage them to explore the interior.
The brief lowland between the fort and the mountains was a no-man’s land, where few ventured except for those who lived there in small settlements of roundhouses. Inevitably they were allies of the indigenous population and were a good source of information for the war bands looking for intelligence about the occupiers to the east, but they tried to live in peace with the invaders. The site of the fort had been in use by the local peoples for centuries and had been a natural location for a hill fort for those in the area that was until the Romans had arrived and taken it from them. The crag loomed large as they approached and from this side the three men had a clear view of the sheer sandstone cliff that led to the summit. On the opposite side, a gentle slope led to the top, but here it was a natural defence that would be accessible to only those brave enough to scale a dangerous vertical wall.
“That would be the best way in.” Caradoc said looking up at the cliff face. “They have a few walls on the other side but here, only at the top. We could be at the wall and inside before they knew we were even near and if we went in under the cover of darkness, they wouldn’t know they were being attacked until it was too late.”
“It’s a good plan and one that I want to be involved in.” Brennus said. “My sword thirsts for Roman blood and it will drink well from their streams until I make them rivers.” He smiled as he spoke.
Ardwen smiled as well, “Do you think you can haul your big bulk up that cliff face Brennus? We wouldn’t want your carcass falling and crashing into the trees, it would alert them to our presence and no doubt take about twenty of us with it.”
Brennus turned smiling once more, “Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine and I’ll also be up there before you with your little girl’s arms and spindly legs, you must have forgotten our time as young boys climbing in the mountains, I’d be resting at the top whilst you were still pulling your scrawny body up tree roots and crevices. Here,” he said looking at the crag, “my blade will be gorging itself deeply from their veins while you are still struggling up the sandstone and tree roots.”
Caradoc turned from the crag and looked over as the two men remembered their time as youngsters, when all they had to worry about was raids from other tribes. The attacks however were aimed at livestock not people in the main and there were enough cattle, sheep and pigs for it to be a rare event. The forests were rich with wildlife as well, where dangerous boars were to be avoided unless hunters had a keen eye and were experienced bowmen and hunted in groups with spearmen. Wolves were also to be found wandering in packs but were rarely seen during the daylight hours, unlike the boars they would rarely attack a human being unless cornered, injured or provoked.
As they continued along the track to the base of the fort, they came across a small settlement, it was a cluster of about ten roundhouses where dogs barked and children ran out to greet the riders as they approached.
“Food sirs?” One grubby boy asked his face streaked with dry mud. “We have new food brought to use by the Romans, would you like to try some?”
The three men exchanged glances. “What food do you speak of boy?” asked Ardwen.
“We have fresh apples sir, not sour like our crab apples, they’re sweet and tasty. There are also grapes, mulberries and cherries, very nice and sweet as well, come try them my mother has some to sell.” He pointed over to one house in particular.
“How did your mother come by these foreign things boy?” asked Brennus.
“She is friends with one of their soldier’s sir,” his face lit up with pride, “he visits when he has time and gives us food to try. He’s also given us vegetables, we’ve even started to grow our own now and they’re all tasty and make our food much better.”
“What does your mother do in return for these gifts?” Ardwen asked.
“Nothing sir,” he said looking confused, “he just gives them to us, he wants to be our friend, that’s all.” The boy said grinning honestly.
“We’ll take a look.” Caradoc said, “thank you.” He looked at the small settlement and then back to the boy, “what’s your name lad?”
“Elus sir, my name is Elus.” The boy said beaming. He turned and ran with the others towards the settlement that was surrounded by a low wicker fence.
Out of earshot of the boy Brennus frowned. “The whore’s probably spreading her legs for the entire legion and getting apples in return,” Brennus said.
“They’re probably just doing what they can to survive my friend, that’s all.” Caradoc said as they got closer, he saw the boy leading a woman by the hand that he assumed was his mother. She wore a green plaid shawl around her neck that looked to be made from wool and a dress down to her knees made of the same material. She was attractive and in the mid-twenties, perhaps reasons for the generosity of the newcomers.