Адриан Голдсуорти - Brigantia

Ferox saw them first, when he glanced back to check that Vindex was with them. Five or six riders, it was hard to be sure in the darkness, but they were following fast and he had little doubt that they were the prince’s men.

He urged his horse to catch up with Longinus who was leading.

‘Trouble?’ the veteran said, his speech a little slurred. Ferox told him about their pursuers. ‘It’s the bridge then.’ On the way down this morning, they had crossed a narrow stone bridge, dismounting and leading the horses in single file. It was about a mile from where the rest of the men were camped.

‘Are you all right?’ Ferox remembered the spear hitting the veteran.

‘Just fine, ‘ Longinus hissed back, and kicked his horse to drive the animal faster. Ferox let the other two pass before he followed. The pursuers were getting closer. By the time they reached the bridge they were no more than three hundred paces behind. Longinus jumped down, grunting as he landed, and led his horse across, cooing to the beast when it tried to pull away. Enica did the same, the hem of her dress snagging on one of the pommels until she tugged it free, and crossed. Vindex rode, his knees barely squeezing between the walls on either side of the little bridge. Ferox looked back. The prince’s men had gained another fifty paces, and he wished that Sepenestus was with them, because even at night his bow would have killed anyone trying to cross.

Ferox leaped down, still holding the reins, and went over. Enica and Vindex were already riding on, and then he saw Longinus slap the rump of his horse to drive the beast away.

‘I’ll be Cocles,’ he said. He had taken his shield from its strap before he sent the horse away.

Ferox came alongside. ‘It’s my job. You take my horse, and I’ll catch yours when it’s done.’

‘No.’ Longinus reached out and brushed the palm of his hand across Ferox’s cheek. It was wet and he smelled the fresh blood. ‘I’m not going any further tonight – not quickly anyway. And you need to make sure your wife is safe. As long as she is, a lot of the Brigantes will back her or at least wait and see who wins.’

‘I’m not sure she’s really my wife.’

‘Please yourself. But she matters, and I don’t any more. We’ll see. They’ll have to come one by one and my strength will last a while yet. Farewell, Silure.’

‘Farewell, Batavian.’ Ferox hauled himself into the saddle. The pursuers had stopped, perhaps a hundred or so paces away. They must have seen the bridge and been wondering what to do next.

‘Go! Vindex is half-mad and she’s confused. They need you to get them away. If you see Lepidina again then tell her this was what I had to do.’

‘You love her, don’t you?’ The horsemen were walking forward.

‘Like the daughters I once had and lost.’

‘Did you kill Narcissus?’ he asked, because he had to know before it was too late. ‘And Fuscus?’

‘You planning on arresting me?’

‘Nothing serious.’ Ferox realised he was grinning. ‘But it could mean stoppage of pay and furlough cancelled.’ The horsemen were almost within javelin throw. They halted again and all but one dismounted. Ferox could see that there were six in all.

‘Yes. They were after her because of that idiot brother and you, you halfwit. They came after me too, although who would care after all these years? Both were better off dead, so I killed them. She told me about luring you to the amphitheatre, how she hated doing it, but had to. I said she was right to do it, and that you could look after yourself. And you did, didn’t you?’

The Brigantes began to walk forward, clashing spear shafts against the edge of their shields.

‘What about the slave girl at Vindolanda? The one who hanged herself.’

‘Nothing to do with me. Now go!’ Longinus hissed. ‘This is my time – or it isn’t and I’ll see you again. Go! I was a prefect and a prince and lord of the Empire of the Gauls and you are just a little shit of a centurion, so go or I’ll kill you as well.’

Ferox clicked to his horse and she answered readily. Vindex and Enica were dim shapes far ahead, but the path was an easy one. If they got to the camp of their men they might return in time.

‘I am Julius Civilis, prince of the Batavi!’ The voice boomed out across the little valley and Ferox’s horse slowed, either by instinct or because it sensed its rider reacting. He drove the animal on. ‘I am an eques of Rome, decorated for valour many times,’ the old man thundered his challenge. ‘I was lord of an empire, the man who broke legions and burned cities, and I beg you to come to my sword and be killed!’

The Brigantes stopped chanting. As Ferox rode into the darkness, he heard the first clash of weapons and a long scream.

‘Come, my sword thirsts!’ The veteran’s challenge echoed faintly.

THE NEXT MORNING they buried the veteran at the top of a pass. There was little time, for more pursuers were bound to be on their trail, and Ferox hoped the old man’s spirit would forgive him, as he dropped back a half mile to stand guard. When they had got back to the bridge with the rest of the men, three of the Brigantes were dead, another moaning softly as he lay with blood pumping out of his thigh, and the other two fled. Longinus was propped against the wall, and as they arrived, he opened his mouth to say something, but only blood came out. He slid down and did not move again. His horse had not gone far and they put his corpse on it. An hour after dawn they halted, and the Batavians dug a shallow hole, using their swords to cut the turf and their cloaks to carry the spoil. Gannascus and the others gathered stones to pile into a cairn. The dead man was wrapped in his own cloak, fully armed and his shield at his feet. Claudia Enica took a ring from her finger and placed it on his chest, and if it was not really an equestrian ring, the troopers understood the gesture and were grateful.

All this Ferox learned later, as they rode north, driving the animals as hard as they dared.

‘Where are we going?’ Enica asked, breaking the solemn silence that seemed to envelop them all.

‘My people have a saying,’ he said. ‘Tomorrow for mourning, today for revenge.’

‘Charming, although I suppose it is apt.’

‘Let’s get back to the army and be with them when they take that revenge.’

‘Aye,’ Vindex growled. ‘Blood calls for blood. Where will the army be?’

‘Let’s head home and find out.’

Enica frowned. ‘Home?’

‘Close enough anyway,’ Ferox said, meaning Syracuse and he guessed Vindolanda, and soon they lapsed back into silence. The death of Longinus bothered him less than he expected, and not simply because the man had confessed to helping Sulpicia Lepidina betray him. As the veteran had said, he had survived, and it was done. There was no going back for any of them.

Ferox spent most of his time riding ahead of the rest, searching for the best route and trying to pick up any rumours from the few folk he saw. The murder of Audagus, the attempt on Enica’s life and the bloodshed at the tribal council was spoken of in whispers, and some went on to speak of Acco and the end of times. ‘Brother set against sister, friend against friend and kin against kin. It is not good.’ Everyone he met was armed, even if it was simply with a wooden club or stave sharpened into a crude spear, and many openly carried swords, shields and spears. Without the conspicuous helmet, the rest of his clothes covered by his cloak, Ferox could have been any traveller, at least when he was on foot. His horse with its brand and harness was too obviously an army mount. Several times he walked down to farms to speak to the occupants. They eyed him nervously, for a hard-faced man wearing a sword at his belt could mean danger at the best of times, let alone now. The call to war had gone out, and he was sure some would soon walk or ride away to muster under their chief, who in turn would lead them to a greater lord. Few seemed sure whether they would then serve brother or sister or someone else. That was not their place to decide.