Simon Scarrow - When the Eagle hunts

He was already dead, slumped back against the leather cover, blood pumping from a gaping wound in his throat where Prasutagus had hacked with his long Celtic sword.

The Iceni warrior was off his horse and tearing at the ties binding the rear of the cover. From inside the wagon a child's muffled shriek reached their ears. The last of the ties came undone and Prasutagus swept the flaps apart and stuck his head inside. Fresh screams split the air.

'It's all right!' shouted Boudica in Latin, running up the track. She spoke angrily to Prasutagus in their native tongue and pushed him to one side. 'It's all right. We're here to rescue you. Cato! Come here! They need to see a Roman face.'

Ducking her head.back into the wagon, Boudica tried to sound calm. 'There are two Roman officers with us. You're safe.'

Cato reached the back of the wagon and looked into tlae gloomy interior. A woman sat hunched, with her arms round the shoulders of a small boy and a slightly older girl, both whimpering in wide-eyed terror. The clothes they wore had once been of fine quality but were now soiled and torn.

They looked like common street beggars, huddled and frightened.

'Lady Pomponia,' Cato tried to sound reassuring. 'I'm aa optio of the Second Legion. Your husband sent us to find you. Here's my centurion.'I Cato stepped to one si'de as Macro joined them. The centurion motioned to Prasuagus to keep watch up the track towards the hill fort. / 'All in one piece then?',Macro glanced at the woman and two children. 'Good! Let's get moving. Before those bastards come back.'

'I can't,' replied Lady, Pomponia, lifting the tattered hem of her cloak. Her bare foot was chained at the ankle to an iron ringbolt in the bed of the cart.

'The children?'

Lady Pomponia shook her head.

'All right then, kids, get out of the cart, so I can get to work on your mum's chain."

They pressed still more closely to their mother.

'Go on, do as he says,' Lady Pomponia said gently. 'These people are here to help us and take us back to your father.'

The girl hesitantly shuffled over the grimy boards to the rear of the wagon and slid offthe end, into Boudica's arms.

The boy buried his face against his mother and clenched his little fists tightly in the folds of her cloak. Macro frowned.

'Look here, lad, there's no time for this nonsense. Get out n ow I '

'That's not going to do any good,' Boudica muttered.

'The boy's scared enough as it is.'

Holding the girl on one hip, she reached a hand out to the child. With a gentle push from his mother, the boy reluctantly allowed himself to be lifted down from the wagon. He clutched at Boudica's leg and anxiously watched Cato and Macro.

The centurion hauled himself into the bed of the wagon and examined the chain where it was attached to an ankle fetter.

'Shit! It's been iron pegged – there's no lock.'

The stout metal peg that fastened the manacle needed a special spiked tool to remove it. Macro drew his sword and carefully applied the point to one end of the pin. Lady Pomponia looked on in alarm, instinctively flinching.

'You'll need to keep still.'

'I'll try. Be careful, Centurion.'

Macro nodded, and gradually pushed the end of the iron pin. When it refused to budge, he applied more pressure, taking care to keep the point of his sword on the end of the pin. The muscles in his arms bunched and he gritted his teeth as he strained to set the woman free. The blade slipped and thudded down ixtto the wagon bed, just missing the grimy skin of Lady Pomponia's foot.

'Sorry. I'll try that again.'

'Please hurry.'

A cry from Prasutagus made Cato glance up. The Iceni warrior was trotting back down the track to the wagon, speaking quickly. Boudica nodded.

'He says they're coming. Four of them. Walking their horses back this way.'

'How far off?' asked Cato.

'Quarter of a mile from the bridge.'

'Not much time then.'

'I'm trying to get her outtas fast as I can.' Macro grunted as he applied his sword to the,pin once again. 'There! I'm sure it shifted a bit.'

Cato hurried to the front of the wagon. He pulled the body of the fat Druid uprigh,,t and wedged the whip between the dead man's legs. Then, he gestured to Prasutagus to carry the younger Druid into the treeline. Prasutagus reached down for the body and effortlessly heaved it onto his shoulder. He trotted rotUnd,the front of the cart's ponies and flung the body into the shadows at the edge of the forest.

'Get our horses out of sight.! Where's Boudica's?'

'She's finished,' Boudica called out. 'The fall broke her back. I had to leave her behind.'

'Three horses., i' Cold dread gripped Cato. 'There are seven of us. We could get two on a horse, but three?'

'Weql have to try,' Boudica said firmly, giving a reassuring squeeze to the two children. 'No one's being left behind.

How's that chain coming, Macro?'…

'It bloody isn't! Pin's too small.' Macro slid offthe back of the wagon. 'Wait there, my lady. I'll be back in a moment.

Now then…' He glanced up the track, squinting in the failing light. Four dark shapes were heading towards the narrow trestle bridge. 'We'll have to take on that lot first.

Then have another go at the chain. I'll cut the bloody bolt out if I have to. Into the forest everyone. This way.'

Macro herded Boudica and the children away from the wagon and into the shadow of the trees. They stepped over the sprawled form of the younger Druid and crouched down close by the horses Prasutagus had tethered to a pine trunk.

'Swords out,' said Macro quietly. 'Follow me.'

He led Cato and Pmsutagus to a position fifty feet on from the front of the wagon and they squatted down, waiting for the Druids to appear. The ponies harnessed to the front of the wagon stood as still and quiet as the body of their master on his bench. The three men lay in wait, senses straining for the first sounds of the Druids' approach. Then it came, the rumbling of hooves on the boards of the trestle bridge.

'Wait for me to make the first move,' whispered Macro.

He raised his eyes at Prasutagus's quizzical expression and tried a simpler phrase. The fight first, then you come. Got that?'

Prasutagus nodded, and Macro turned to Cato.

'Right, make it short and make it bloody. We've got to get 'em all. No one must be allowed to escape and give the alarm.'

A few moments later the Druids caught sight of the wagon and called out. When there was no reply, they called out again. The silence made them cautious. A hundred paces away they reined in their horses, muttering to each other.

'Shit!' Macro hissed. 'They're not going to buy it.'

The centurion made to rise, but Cato did the unthinkable and reached out a hand to restrain his superior.

'Wait, sir. Just a moment.'

Macro was so startled by his optio's effrontery that he froze for just long enough to hear the Druids' soft laughter.

Then the riders continued forward. Cato tightened his grip on the handle of his sword,and tensed, ready to spring up behind Macro and throw hihaself upon the enemy. Through the uneven mesh of the lowest.branches Cato could see the approaching Druids, riding 'in line, strung out along the track. Beside him Macro cttrsed; the three of them could not spread out now without attracting attention.

'Leave the last one to me, he whispered.

The first of the Druids tJassed their position, and shouted to the driver, apparently poking fun at him. Prasutagus grinned widely at the man' remark and Macro nudged him fiercely.

The second Druid passed them, just as the leader shouted out again, much louder this time. One of the ponies started at the noise and tried to back away. The wagon swivelled slightly, and as the.ambushers watched, the body of the driver slowly toppled to one side and fell onto the track.