Retribution

Chapter Eight

At Deva, Caradoc, Ardwen and Brennus had waited at the wine stall all evening until it had eventually closed but no Roman official had come to see them. Nynniaw had returned to find the three still sat outside with two large amphorae’s unopened and had passed on the Quaestor’s apologies. He was a very busy man but would make efforts to see them the next day they were told.

“What is a Quaestor?” Ardwen asked. “Sounds like something we’d find in our fishing nets.”

Nynniaw looked surprised. “You don’t have a Quaestor in Isca? They are very important administrators that work directly for the Governor, surely if you sell livestock to the army, you must have come across one of them?”

Caradoc realising that Ardwen may have overstepped the line by demonstrating his lack of knowledge said, “We don’t speak with them, we’re farmers not administrators, all business transactions are carried out by the elders, they oversee all trade with the Romans.”

“Mm,” Nynniaw said, “well they spend their days with their heads buried in scrolls dealing with all manner of things, receipts and the disbursement of money. When they’re not doing that they maintain all official records and oversee contracts. As well as that they look after all the equipment for the legion they are responsible to and the pay of their soldiers. As you can imagine its very time consuming but Batius has assured me he will find time tomorrow to see you.” He looked from man to man. “I’ll go and check with him first thing and come and find you.”

“Well it looks like we’ll be staying for a couple of days then.” Ardwen said, “May as well enjoy some more wine.” He smiled opening another amphora and poured more wine.

“It’s late and time for me to turn in. My wife will be wondering where I’ve been all day.” Nynniaw said. “Are you staying here all night or do you want me to show you where you can sleep tonight? If I were you I’d have a clear head for tomorrow’s meeting with Batius.”

“That would be good of you, thank you.” Caradoc replied. He turned to Ardwen and Brennus, “I’ll go with Nynniaw if you two want to stay here for a while?”

Ardwen picked up the amphorae and passed the other to Brennus. “May as well come along, there’s nothing else to see anyway except patrols of Romans wandering around.”

Nynniaw showed them to a roundhouse that was empty except for a fire place and four beds. “Take your pick,” he said waving at the beds, “we use this house for relatives when they visit. It’s basic as you can see but I’m sure you won’t mind that.”

Caradoc walked to one of the straw filled beds whilst Brennus lit the fire. “This will be fine,” he said, “after travelling I could sleep for a week in a thorn bush, thank you again Nynniaw, we’ll see you in the morning.”

“Goodnight.” Nynniaw said and pulled the door skin shut as he left.

“What do you think?” Ardwen asked Caradoc collapsing onto the bed with his amphora. Dust blew up as he landed.

“We’ll see what tomorrow brings. I’m sure this Batius will want to see us in the fort, it’ll give us a good opportunity to have a look around eh?” Caradoc replied. “Haven’t you had enough of that?” He asked looking at the cup in Ardwen's hand.

“I’ll have this one and then get my head down, you too Brennus, I don’t want you with a sore head tomorrow.” Ardwen said. “Do you want one more?” He looked over to Caradoc but he was already snoring.

The next morning they were still asleep when Nynniaw arrived. “Good morning gentlemen.” He said pulling the door skin aside to reveal a sunny morning.

“Ugh the light,” Ardwen complained rolling over. “Shut the door before you blind me.”

“I’ve spoken to Batius,” Nynniaw went on ignoring Ardwen’s complaint, “and he’ll see you in a couple of hours,” He tied the door skin open, “at his office. I trust that is acceptable?” He looked round at the prone figures. “He’s a very busy man, remember?”

“Yes that’s fine.” Caradoc replied. Do you know where we can get some food?” He asked.

“Yes,” Nynniaw said, “if you walk past the wine stall where you were last night, further along the road is a place that sells everything you could want for breakfast, although it’s mid-morning now.” He smiled. “They’re open all day though, have you coin?”

“Yes thank you.” Caradoc replied rolling up onto his knees. “We’ll meet you there later.”

“Very well, don’t go missing now or Batius won’t be happy.” Nynniaw said leaving the roundhouse with the door skin tied open.

“Ugh my head feels like a herd of cattle have stampeded through it.” Ardwen said moaning.

Caradoc stood up and stretched, “Maybe that last cup of wine was off eh?” He picked up the amphora lying beside Ardwen and turned it upside down, it was empty as was the one Brennus had taken to bed. “Or maybe it was the quantity you drank?”

“Why are you two shouting?” Brennus rolled over to face them.

Caradoc laughed, “You two need to curb your drinking if you can’t handle it.” He pulled the rough blanket off Ardwen. “I feel fine but I didn’t guzzle as much as you pair.” He looked at the groaning men. “Come on up, we’ve got work to do.” He said. Brennus and Ardwen moaned again.

A few hours later refreshed somewhat after breakfast at the stall Nynniaw had recommended, they waited for him to re-appear. They didn’t have to wait long as he met them with a smiling face, “Are you ready? I was afraid you’d still be in bed, I’m glad to see you made it.”

“We’re ready, lead on.” Caradoc said.

Nynniaw took them further along the track where already, the garrison walls were visible, tall and imposing. Banners bearing the symbols of the Twentieth legion fluttered gently on the breeze, a wild boar below three spears.

“How do you find them?” Caradoc said looking at the huge gates as they came into view.

Nynniaw smiled. “It was strange at first, we didn’t know what to expect but we’re used to them now, trade is good and they’re fair if we treat them the same and of course we do, you don’t want to get on the wrong side of these boys. I know they’ve taken some of the young men from the region but not from the garrison area itself, taken them to train as auxiliaries in Gaul with promises of money. A lot wanted to volunteer until they found out they’d be leaving Britannia, then they weren’t so keen but most went willingly nonetheless, better that than be made to go I suppose. Apparently they take men from the Provinces and they serve elsewhere in the empire, never where they’ve come from for some reason.”

“In case they mutiny maybe?” Caradoc replied looking at the wide river that ran adjacent to the fort. “Imagine training a few hundred or worse a few thousand men in your ways of fighting, equipping them; and then they turn on you? They wouldn’t want to risk that.”

“Yes, yes I suppose you’re right.” Nynniaw said as they walked into the shadow of the garrison wall. “Here we are,” he said, “I’ll talk to the guards, wait here.” He walked forward as a soldier came out from the open gate, leaving another where he was. Nynniaw spoke to him and then turned waving, “Come on gentlemen, we don’t want to keep Quaestor Batius waiting.”

“Wouldn’t want that would we?” Ardwen said under his breath.

Caradoc looked at the size of the structure, it was enormous. “It has to be over three hundred paces wide, maybe more.”

“Oh yes and this is the narrower part of the garrison, it’s twice as long along the other sides, enormous it is.” Nynniaw said ushering them forward as they walked through the large open gates of Deva. Caradoc almost felt as if he was being swallowed by some huge stone animal. Inside there were people dressed in Roman robes and soldiers in uniform everywhere they looked.

“The gate we just walked through is called the Porta Praetoria,” Nynniaw said demonstrating with his arms, as they walked further into the belly of the beast. “This road we’re on now is called the Via Praetoria and it leads all the way down to the Principia, which is the building you see directly in front of you, it’s where we’ll find Batius in the garrison headquarters. That’s the building that was first built and determined the way the rest of the garrison was built on, fascinating isn’t it?” He said smiling, almost as if he had constructed the buildings all around them. “These Romans certainly know how to construct things eh? Now to your left is the hospital and to the right a granary, which is obviously where we bring the wheat from the fields. Beyond those buildings on each side are barracks where the soldiers live, they call them centuriae. They build them near every gate of which there are four in case of emergencies. Would you believe there are still tribes resisting them, how backward eh? Fighting a people who can accomplish this sort of thing is just stupid if you ask me.”

Brennus said, “There is a settlement in the south built by Britons that is constructed along similar designs, it has straight roads and the houses are built along lines. None are high like these though.”

“Really,” Nynniaw said. “I wouldn’t have thought it possible because we’ve certainly never had anything like it up here.” He replied. “Come along now,” he said seeing the three men staring in wonder at the high buildings all around them. “We don’t want to miss our appointment, we were lucky to get this one after someone dropped out, come along now.”

He led them further along the road describing a huge building to the left where the occupants bathed called the thermae. “Oh yes that is very popular, I’ll show you inside when we’ve seen the Quaestor if you like, you’ll be amazed. They have different rooms, one where you exercise to work up a sweat and then hot, warm and cold baths where they go to relax after a hard day’s work. It’s where some of our people work for them as well scraping their skin and making sure things run smoothly.”

“Slaves you mean?” Ardwen said.

“Well I suppose you could call them that but they have meals provided for them and accommodation, some of their masters even give them gifts and take them to their villas in the summer if they have them. In the winter they are warm did you know they even have heating under the ground?”

The three men looked at him in surprise, “What do you mean warmth from under the ground?” Caradoc asked.

“Yes, yes it’s true. They have perfected a system where before they construct the actual buildings, they dig out what they call foundations in the earth, large holes for the place to stand on. Inside the foundations they put in these square blocks that the heat runs through, hypocausts they call them, amazing things. They make the walls hollow as well sometimes so that the heat flows along these hypocausts and rises into the walls so in the winter you have warm feet and don’t have to have a fire burning all day and night inside.”

The three men looked at him quizzically as they continued along the road.

“Oh yes,” Nynniaw continued, “we can learn a great deal from them, just look around, magnificent isn’t it and all built around the curve of the river so there’s plenty of fresh water and the waste gets washed away. Very clever indeed I must say.”

“You sound as though you admire them and that they’ve improved everyone’s lives.” Brennus said.

“Well I suppose I do if I’m being honest.” Nynniaw replied.

“I’ll wager those working as slaves don’t have the same view on life.” Caradoc said.

“Mm maybe,” Nynniaw replied and went on, “now on the right we have the tribunorum, this row is where all the tribunes’ live and directly in front of us is our location, my good men. Now when we get inside I will speak with the Quaestor’s secretary and when he’s ready he’ll call us forward, in the meantime we will be given seats where we’ll wait.” He looked them up and down. “You’ll have to do as you are I suppose.”

The three men looked at each other again and Caradoc could see that Brennus was getting agitated by Nynniaw’s attitude. He looked at Brennus glaring, imploring him to calm down. They entered an unguarded door and walked along a well-lit corridor thanks to lots of windows along the external wall. Caradoc took a mental note of the windows realising that they were just too small for a grown man to climb through. He led them up a set of stairs and into a large room where a man sat behind a desk.

“Good day to you secretary Pulmos.” Nynniaw said in an ingratiating manner.

Pulmos looked up almost dismissively, “Ah Nynniaw, these must be the men from the south you told me about take a seat, the Quaestor will be with you presently.” He said and returned to his scrolls. They waited for some time until a door to the right finally opened and two middle aged men appeared, both wearing togas.

“Thank you Quaestor,” one of the men said. “I will ensure that business is sorted out properly.”

“See that you do, I don’t intend to have this conversation again Aprilus.” The bigger of the two men said. Aprilus nodded and made for the exit rubbing his hands nervously.

“Ah Nynniaw,” the Quaestor said turning, “here again I see and you have brought the livestock merchants with you, good, please come in.” He said ushering them in to his office with a wave of his hand.

Nynniaw hurriedly got up, followed more slowly by Caradoc, Ardwen and Brennus. The Quaestor took his seat behind his large desk, there were none for visitors.

“Now to business,” he said, “forgive my abruptness gentlemen but you have caught me at a very busy time. If I didn’t have to go round wiping other men’s arseholes, my life would be a lot easier.” He looked up at the men with Nynniaw.

“So, two hundred head of cattle and the same in sheep, is that correct?” He asked looking at no-one in particular.

“Yes it is.” Caradoc replied. “We trade with the Second Augusta usually but they have more than enough stock for the rest of the year. One of the soldiers down at Isca said that you may be interested.” The Quaestor was already looking down at the table reading one of his many scrolls.

“Good,” he said without looking up. “And how would this affect your trade Nynniaw and the locals, would your people be happy for these gentlemen to provide us with meat?”

“As long as it doesn’t adversely affect our own trade then we have no objections sir. To be honest it will mean more food for our people because as you know, some went hungry last winter and we had so few livestock left.” Nynniaw was going to add, after you took all our livestock but thought better of it.

“Very good that’s settled then.” He looked up from the table. “If you can get them up here and in one piece and they’re all healthy obviously,” he paused, “I’ll take them off your hands for a good price.”

“What’s a good price?” Ardwen asked.

The Quaestor looked at him as if he were something foul on the sole of his boot, “A good price will depend on the quality of the animals.” He stood and walked to the door. “Now if that is all gentlemen, I’m very busy and have got an awful lot of appointments to get through today.”

As they were ushered out of the office another group were waiting to see him as if to emphasise his point.

“Thank you for your time Quaestor.” Nynniaw said bowing. They left the secretary’s office and descended the stairs. “Well I think that went very well don’t you?” he asked them without giving them a chance to answer. “Once I’ve taken my money for arranging your deal, you’ll still be in pocket don’t you worry.”

“Brennus grabbed his shoulder and spun him round, he almost fell down the steps. “What are you talking about?” He glared at Nynniaw. “You didn’t mention anything about us paying you money.”

“Nynniaw tried to lean away from the angry Silurian. “You can’t expect me to set up a deal for you like this and not get paid. I’ve given you my time, my experience, knowledge, accommodation and of course an invaluable appointment with the Quaestor, these things don’t come free you know.”

“It’s alright Brennus,” Caradoc said, “We’ll pay Nynniaw for his trouble, don’t worry about it. Besides if it weren’t for him we wouldn’t have got to see the inside of this magnificent garrison would we?”

Brennus blushed suddenly remembering that the entire visit was a ruse. “Oh yes, well if you say so.” He shoved Nynniaw and let the matter go. He took them back to the settlement straight away having either forgotten about taking them to see the baths, or was unhappy that Brennus had manhandled him.

“Well my friends,” he said, “that all went very well indeed. Now don’t forget when you return with your livestock to send a rider forward to find me first and I’ll arrange for somewhere for them to graze.”

“And how much will that cost?” Ardwen asked smirking.

“Oh nothing, nothing,” he said, “Well I’ll add it to my costs eh?” He smiled like someone Ardwen wanted to punch.

“Thank you for everything.” Caradoc said, “We’ll be seeing you soon.” He grasped Nynniaw’s wrist. “You have been more help than you’ll ever know.”

The three warriors retrieved their mounts and headed south.

As soon as they were clear of listening ears Caradoc said, “That was convincing, you two being upset at that Roman churl taking our money.”

Ardwen smiled, “I forgot for a moment it was all make believe. Still he won’t doubt our word now eh?”

“You should have let me cut his tongue from his head.” Brennus said. “Then he wouldn’t be able to stick it up the Quaestor’s arse ever again.”

The three men laughed and kicked their horses into a gallop.

“Stand to!” Cammius ordered as men ran from the barracks through puddles and mud to climb wet ladders. Night had fallen completely now but fires could be seen burning in the woods, where the enemy had concentrated their force. Cammius had ordered his men to construct torch posts that now lined the fort’s walls and despite the rain, animal fat kept them alight, scutums covered others from a few feet above. The flames from the torches allowed partial visibility below where an eerie half-light existed and seemed to feed on the fort’s defences like a fiery tide. Arrows were launched from every side towards the defenders, some fell, most were lucky and a few saw arrows glance off their helmets or shields.

“Jupiter’s balls,” Cammius shouted hurling a heavy spear down into a wooden cover that was nearing the walls, it penetrated with a satisfying thud. “Where did this lot appear from? There are twice as many of them than there were before.”

No-one answered as men fired and hurled projectiles at the covered warriors, every now and again one would fall out from cover, injured with a javelin or with an arrow in a leg or foot. They didn’t live long.

“They’ll find it a lot harder to climb this time thanks to all the rain.” Varro shouted as he threw another spear, it landed square in the shin of an attacker who screamed and fell unseen under the cover he had been holding.

“Hold,” Cammius shouted, “cease fire. Wait for them to try and climb up, we need to conserve what we’ve got.” He picked up another pilum. “Wait until you’re certain of a target.” He shouted as the soldiers drew closer to the edge, as more arrows were sent their way, hitting an unfortunate few and missing others. Cammius watched from behind his shield as one arrow careened off the side of his helmet and ricocheted into the fort somewhere behind him, landing unseen.

“Wait for it lads, hold.” He shouted, as he saw his men’s faces eager to return fire, to launch a volley of their own.

“Now, loose!” He screamed, as deadly hails of javelins were hurled from above onto the now unshielded Britons who were desperately trying to scale the walls. Shrieks of pain and anguish met their ears as the enemy fell back to the ground. One landed on the top of the large wooden shield he had used previously to get close, a pila piercing his shoulder. He tried to rise as an archer fired an arrow into his screaming face, embedding itself between the nose and upper lip. He fell back again and was finally silenced as a scorpion bolt entered his head from the side as it bent at an unnatural angle. The corpse fell from the wood and into the mud and blood that was now the surface the Britons were fighting against, as well as the defenders. Another attacker was speared by a javelin that hit him on the right cheek the sharp weapon sank deep, exited his neck at the rear and embedded itself into his back. He fell, eyes wide in shock.

Varro stopped throwing javelins for a second as he saw what he knew could only be a shield covering the battering ram approaching the gates.

“Ram,” he shouted, “They’re going for the gates.”

Cammius saw the danger, “Archers and scorpion crews, concentrate your fire on the ram, take their legs out.” He ordered, his voice cracking through all the shouting. Scorpion bolts and arrows quickly disabled the oncoming ramming crew as their legs were hit. The large shield buckled and fell to the ground at the front with Britons trying to take cover behind. More missiles smashed into the wood as javelins joined them. The men at the rear suddenly dropped the shelter and turned for the cover of the trees, arrows followed them as some fell wounded into the sanctuary of the darkness.

The Roman defenders made short work of those still trying to climb the walls, those that weren’t wounded or killed before they reached the top, were stabbed as they tried to enter the fort and fell away. Soon a horn blast ordered their retreat and those on the ground withdrew. The injured lying prone and unable to move were left where they lay until archers put them out of their misery.

“Hold your fire.” Cammius ordered turning to Varro, both men were soaked and panting for breath after their exertions. “That should keep them away for a while.” He looked around the defences. “Right men let’s get the injured to the infirmary.”

Varro said, “That just might be their last attack, they’d be fools to try again.”

“Never underestimate the enemy.” Cammius said as he lifted a legionary under his armpits and helped carry him to a ladder. “The trouble with barbarians is they don’t know when they’re beaten.”

“Come on,” Varro said, “Let’s get him down,” looking at the injured soldier who was unconscious, “and get out of these clothes.”

Dumnoc had watched as his people ran back into the trees as bowmen covered their retreat. One, a young man suddenly fell forwards dropping his sword. As he landed Dumnoc saw that an arrow had hit him right in the middle of the back of his head, he died instantly.

“Get back out of range.” He shouted as others ran past him, “Get to the fires where the druids are, they will help those who are hurt.” He waved at them as two others dragged another beyond him by the arms, his legs trailing in the mud. The injured man looked terrified as he tried to scream at a scorpion bolt that had punctured his chest from the rear, blood poured from his wound but he couldn’t form any words.

Dumnoc felt fury and anger at what he had witnessed, at what he had asked these people to do, at their suffering. He had lost count of those dead or dying and wanted nothing more than to leave this place. The Romans had built their fort well and he now realised that this was a mistake. They had revelled in their victory over Restormel and should have slipped quietly away but buoyed by the destruction of the smaller fort, they had gone a step too far. He looked up at the burning torches where legionaries stalked the walls and ground his teeth in frustration. Soon re-enforcements would come looking for the patrol he had seen riding in through their gates, knowing they were not a resident troop, it would only be a matter of time before others came searching for them. He was running out of time and had suffered too many casualties, turning he followed his retreating warriors further into the woods.

“Make sure the men stay alert, they shouldn’t need any reminding after what they’ve been through, but I don’t want to take any chances.” Cammius said instructing an optio. “We must have nearly broken their backs but you never know and get the last of the pila up there on the walls.”

“Yes sir right away.” The optio saluted, turned and left the room at a trot.

“Help me out of this will you?” Cammius asked Varro, struggling with his armour. The two officers helped each other out of their armoured shells and quickly removed their damp tunics. Cammius placed his segmented armour over a standing wooden cross designed for the purpose, as Varro draped his chainmail over the back of a chair. They looked at each other wearing just their breeches and boots and laughed.

“These can come off as well.” Cammius said as he undid the tie holding his trousers up and whipped them off. He hurled them into a corner where they landed with a wet thump.

“Vestius.” He shouted.

“Yes sir?” The ever present Vestius answered running into the room, he halted suddenly seeing his commander virtually naked.

“Find me a towel and a fresh pair of breeches and the same for Centurion Varro here before we freeze our bollocks off and get that fire lit man.” He said indicating the dead ash in the grate.

“Certainly sir, right away.” He replied and left quicker than he had arrived.

“How’s your shoulder?” Cammius asked looking at Varro’s wound.

“It doesn’t feel that bad at the moment but I’m sure it will stiffen up again soon, I didn’t even have time to think about it during the attack.” Varro replied.

“Good, that’s good.” Cammius said easing himself into a chair. “Sit, sit please.”

“I need to take these off.” Varro said undoing his breeches and removing them. Cammius picked up an amphora.

“I think we’ve deserved this Centurion.” He said, grinning as he leaned forward pouring the golden liquid into two cups on the table, as he felt water drip out of his boots. “These two can come off as well.” He removed his boots and hurled them towards his tunic.

“Damn these barbarians, couldn’t they wait for more civilised weather conditions before launching an attack?” He emptied the cup in one go and poured another. “I can’t see them coming back tonight after the hiding we’ve just given them. Their dead are everywhere out there and it’s going to take a day to clear them all up. Varro removed his boots and sat down picking up his cup, he too drained the contents without stopping just as Vestius re-appeared carrying fresh breeches and tunics.

“I’ll be back with the wood in a moment sir.” He said realising the two centurions were now completely naked.

”Good man.” Cammius said and then took another drink, he looked over at Varro. “I’ll bet you didn’t think you’d be in a position like this when you rode down here eh?” He asked smiling.

“Bollock naked?” he grinned, “With another centurion in the middle of the night, or being under siege inside this fort?” He replied pulling on his fresh breeches.

“Either, well both, I suppose is as unpredictable as the other I would say.” Cammius said.

“You’re correct on both counts, we all thought we’d have a nice quiet ride down here and go back without witnessing anything, how wrong you can be?” Varro replied.

Cammius topped up their cups. “So what’s it like being in the explorates? I should imagine you and your men are used to seeing your fair share of action.”

Varro frowned, “Most people just think we’re regular cavalry or maybe messengers until they see we’re not auxiliaries, in answer to your question though, it’s good I enjoy it. I’ve always ridden and when the opportunity came to join the equites legionis and do something different than shouting at soldiers, I jumped at the chance. After nearly ten years I looked to do something different and found it. Things can get a bit hairy sometimes, especially when we’re in the middle of nowhere with no support, but I wouldn’t change it for the world,” he hesitated, “well almost anyway.” He took some more wine.

“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.