Адриан Голдсуорти - Brigantia

Ferox shrugged. ‘Money, I guess.’

‘Oh, that, yes, he did, but he wanted more.’ The one eye was hard as flint. ‘What else does a man want from a woman? He wanted to take it soon, but wanted to enjoy her fear and hate first.’

Ferox froze as he was fastening his belt. For a while he stared at nothing. His hands clenched until the knuckles went white. ‘Wish I had killed him,’ he said softly.

‘Well, someone beat you to it. If he was trying it on with her there were probably others. That’s the way I see it. One of them got to him. Thetatus .’ Longinus drew a finger across his throat. Army clerks when they updated a unit’s rolls marked the names of dead men with the letter theta. It was not long before soldiers turned that into a slang word for died.

They heard Crispinus calling for Ferox. ‘Better go.’

‘Aye.’ Longinus grunted as he stood up and shook his head. ‘I’m too old to be living like this. Maybe too old for living. What was it Caesar said, “I have lived long enough for either nature or glory”? These days I know how he felt.’

‘Better than being dead.’

‘Maybe. Sometimes it feels more like punishment.’ The veteran grinned. ‘If it is then I’d better commit some more crimes to make it worthwhile.’

‘You could always start another rebellion.’

‘Nah, done that before, my lad. No future in it.’ He finished cleaning himself and hitched up his trousers. ‘And by the sound of things they don’t need me. Perhaps I’ll just look for whichever god keeps raining on us and try and kill him.’

Crispinus shouted again, the voice a bit nearer. ‘I’d better see what he wants,’ Ferox said as he swilled his hands in the brook. The tribune appeared, trailing the duplicarius.

‘Ah, there you are. Been looking for you. Carry on, trooper.’ Longinus was holding his dolabra and still had filthy leaves in the other hand, so he gave the tribune a respectful nod. ‘You too, Arcanus.’ The duplicarius was lean for a Batavian, although far taller than the diminutive tribune. ‘Back to camp and tell everyone we will set out two hours before dawn.’

‘Sir.’ There was great no enthusiasm in Arcanus’ voice.

Longinus washed his hands and then sauntered back to camp.

‘Cerialis thinks very highly of that man,’ the tribune said once they were out of earshot. ‘And we know he can fight, but I do wonder whether he was the right choice for a journey like this. There’s something about him that isn’t right. Oh well, no matter.’ Ferox doubted that the young aristocrat knew who the one-eyed trooper really was, although it was hard to be sure. ‘The duplicarius strikes me as steady enough, and wholly lacking in imagination, so eminently suitable for the task at hand. But it does make me think that he may be right in his belief that we are being followed. That would not surprise me, and since you appear unmoved, I am guessing that he is right.’

Ferox told the tribune what he had seen.

‘And it did not occur to you to say something, centurion?’

‘Sir?’

‘Never mind. You are not sure whether the pair of riders scout for the others?’

‘Do you wish me to find out, my lord?’

Crispinus sniffed. ‘Not yet. We shall hope to lose them in the mountains.’

‘Mountains, my lord? I understood we were heading for Mediolanum and then Deva.’

‘No longer. If Acco is on our trail then we must make haste. You shall find us a route through the mountains as straight as you can. It’s only the third day after the Kalends of October, so we should not have much trouble with the weather. I have great faith in your skills as tracker and guide and we can seek help from the locals.’

‘The Ordovices?’ Ferox tried and failed to keep the contempt from his voice. ‘They are not generous folk or trustworthy.’

Crispinus was dismissive. ‘Agricola taught them a hard lesson and they have not made much trouble since then. It is the fastest and most stealthy route. If we can reach Segontium before anyone knows where we are going then I’ll be much happier.’

‘I’m sure Acco will be pleased once he realises we are going this way.’ Ferox hesitated for a moment before he added, ‘My lord.’

‘Captivity has made you even more surly, Flavius Ferox. My hope is that he will not realise until it is too late. While we might get help in a town or from Legio XX at Deva, we might get delays as well, and gossip. At the moment it is hard to know who to trust, so I shall rely on my own wits – and your skill and knowledge as well. This is my decision.’

‘I’m sure that will be a great consolation if the Ordovices cut off our balls, my lord.’

For an instant Crispinus’ eyes flashed with anger before the charming, impassive face of the politician reasserted itself. ‘Carry on, centurion.’

‘Sir.’

They turned north west, riding over hills and through valleys of thick woodland that at least gave some shelter from the driving rain. Late in the next day they passed one of the Cornovii’s boundary markers. Half a mile on stood another post, carved with a fat body and round head and obviously, even abundantly, male.

Gannascus’ booming laughter echoed around the dell.

‘The symbol of the Ordovices,’ Longinus said when the German finally stopped.

Ferox shook his head. ‘They are a little people, braggards who lie about everything, break their oaths and are foul of habits and speech.’

‘Sound a lot like much of the Senate,’ Crispinus said happily, and ordered a halt. They camped next to the marker, and inevitably someone hung a helmet on the wooden phallus. Ferox insisted that they post four sentries, relieved every two hours, and ignored the groan as the order was conveyed. Up until now they had made do with just two, so that most of them had an undisturbed night at least every other day. Crispinus looked as if he was about to countermand the order and then nodded.

As if to show their blessing of the tribune’s choice, the next day the sun rose bright and they made good progress towards the mountains. Longinus acted as guide.

‘Spent two years here, back in the days of Frontinus and then with Agricola,’ he explained. ‘Hasn’t changed much in twenty years.’

Crispinus frowned when the veteran made this announcement, but since asking why the man had not mentioned this before had invited an unhelpful response, he smiled broadly, clapping the old soldier on the back. ‘Splendid.’

For a few days Ferox did not spot their pursuers. Now and again warriors stood on the high ground and watched them. They passed only one farm built in Roman fashion, and everyone else lived in round houses, small even by the standards of Ferox’s region and the other lands to the north. As they climbed higher there were fewer farmsteads. Then Longinus began leading them along valley floors and there were more people living in these. Twice chieftains came to greet the strangers. Neither were important men, the first accompanied by four warriors, and the second by just two. Only the chieftains had swords, just one wore a battered bronze helmet and neither they nor their warriors wore any other armour. At Ferox’s prompting, Crispinus presented each chief with a gift of one of the light javelins the Batavians carried in a long quiver suspended from the right rear horn of the saddle.

The tribune had been doubtful at first. ‘If your fears are right, won’t we need every weapon we can muster?’

‘If my fears are right, my lord, it really won’t matter.’

The gifts were accepted with grunted thanks, the closest the Ordovices ever came to cheering. Ferox hoped that he looked just like any other Roman centurion, for he had little doubt that the folk here would remember the Lord of the Hills and have no love for his kin. Even so he caught the chieftains staring at him closely and could not make up his mind whether they gave as much attention to the rest of the party. Gannascus was hard not to notice, for the Ordovices were small and slight, and although their hair was often fair or reddish it was usually smeared with mud to make it spiky or simply so filthy that it seemed the colour of the dark earth. They stared up at the tall Batavians, and were in awe of the German giant. Ferox noticed Cocceius watching the warriors with that mixture of fear and longing for battle so common in young soldiers. He hoped the boy’s curiosity would not be satisfied, at least until they were through the mountains. For all his contempt for the Ordovices, he knew that they were fierce enough in their way, and could easily massacre a party as small as this.