The Encircling Sea

XIII

THE BLACKENED SHELL of the villa still smouldered as the shadow of the building lengthened in the late afternoon sun. The outbuildings had been flimsier and burned faster, leaving smaller carcases. Behind them, towards the sea, the fort showed few scars from the night attack. Several parties of attackers had got inside, blackened faces and bodies hard to see as they slipped over parapets of walls too long for the small number of soldiers to patrol.

No one had expected such a direct attack. Aelius Brocchus was with two turmae off north along the coast, responding to a report from one of his patrols who had discovered the corpses of some of Probus’ herdsmen. Another turma swept south in case raiders came from that direction. They had not, but late in the day a warship had arrived at the little harbour. The centurion in charge of the ship and twenty marines had marched to the fort, reported that they were patrolling the shore, but had had an accident and had three men needing medical attention. It all seemed in order, the duty decurion directing them to the hospital and calling for the sole medicus in the garrison. The naval troops were allocated accommodation in an empty barrack block, with space for the rest who would come once they had finished repairing damage to the ship.

Night fell, and in the second watch the centurion and marines came quietly out of their barracks and marched to the gate, just as some thirty sailors came to join them. The guards were quickly cut down, and at the same time three groups each of a dozen or so swarmed over the walls and into the fort. Two bigger groups went straight to the villa. Nowhere was there much resistance at first. Most of the Hibernian warriors were still with the kings at Luguvallium. The few who had stayed at the villa fought and died to protect their queen. One of Probus’ slaves swore that he had seen Brigita clad in her yellow dress and sword in hand, fighting alongside them. He did not see her fall, but there was no trace of her amid the bodies of her warriors. He also talked about the constant sound of whistles blowing throughout the fighting.

The Usipi, or whoever they were, had taken the queen. They had also snatched Genialis, but apart from a couple of slave girls they had killed everyone else they found at the villa or in the outbuildings. The only survivors were those who had managed to slip off into the darkness and find a hiding place.

The soldiers at the fort had responded more quickly, but it was hard to organise to meet a threat they did not understand. Cerialis gathered seven or eight Batavians and a few men from the alae and formed them up outside the praetorium, while the women, children and staff escaped through one of the side doors. It was a hard fight, outnumbered two to one, but they had stood shoulder to shoulder like towers and kept the enemy back. The man dressed as a centurion died on their spears, as did half a dozen of the marines and several of the black-painted warriors. Numbers would have told in the end, but then a horn blew and the attackers gave way. The prefect took the two remaining unwounded men and went to look for his family. He never reached them, for he must have run into another group of warriors. Ferox traced the signs of a struggle in the mud. One of the Batavians was found dead. The other and the prefect had simply gone. So had Sulpicia Lepidina.

‘She saved us,’ Claudia Severa explained. ‘It was all her idea taking everyone to the cells.’ There was a building used as prison alongside the workshops behind the praetorium. It was smaller than the one at Vindolanda, and rarely used, but it was in a quiet spot and had the stoutest windows and doors of anywhere in the fort. Sulpicia Lepidina led them straight to it. ‘She had a much clearer memory than I can boast. But just before we got there, we heard some men coming and saw the glint of their weapons. We hid in an alleyway between some buildings, but they were coming closer. She whispered that I was to lead the others, and then she just ran out from the alley into the main path. They saw her, of course, but then she screamed and ran in the opposite direction, leading them off. They followed like hounds, and when they were gone I took everyone inside and we locked the door, and then locked ourselves into the cells. Then we just kept very quiet and prayed.’

Aelius Brocchus held his wife close, the relief in both their faces obvious. He and his men had galloped back as soon as they saw the flames of the burning villa, but arrived to find the enemy gone.

‘They must want hostages,’ the prefect said. ‘The queen, and Cerialis and his noble wife, are rich prizes for ransom.’

It made sense, and Ferox hoped that he was right for that might offer them some protection. Yet with such strange and brutal captors it was hard to know. They had acted to deliberate purpose, but it was hard to guess just what that purpose could be.

Little Marcus began to cry, and Claudia Severa insisted on taking him from the maid and soothing the baby herself. Ferox looked at the boy, his heart torn between love and terror at the thought of what might be happening to the child’s mother.

‘We shall care for the children until their parents are restored to them,’ Aelius Brocchus announced, and his wife stroked his cheek with great fondness.

On the next day Neratius Marcellus arrived with his singulares and a glimmer of hope for that restoration.

‘A man brought this to the fort.’ He showed them a papyrus roll. ‘He was a mute, unable to speak – or be persuaded to speak for that matter – but the guard commander had the wit to realise that it might be important. It is a letter, addressed to me, damn their impudence, and says that they will return the hostages to us if we hand over one hundred good swords, fifty helmets, and ten thousand denarii.’

‘That is not all that much,’ Brocchus said.

‘Perhaps, but since it is clear this was written before their raid they may not have known who they would get. There is one more thing. They want Probus as well.’

‘With more money?’ Crispinus asked.

‘They do not say. It is possible that they will then seek to extort money or something else from him for his own release and that of his son. Yet I rather wonder whether they just want the man, and suspect they have nothing too pleasant planned for him.’

Brocchus grimaced. ‘Is he willing?’

‘I am sure he will be,’ the governor said smoothly. ‘I have had him placed under close guard.’ He smiled. ‘For his own protection, of course.’

Crispinus shrugged. ‘It will upset some important people.’

‘Then let them be offended.’ Neratius Marcellus’ voice was unusually harsh. ‘I’ll not stand idly by while an equestrian officer and a senator’s daughter are in the hands of pirates or whatever these people are.’

‘Where and when will the exchange take place?’ Ferox asked.

‘Ah, centurion, to the point of the matter as usual. Well, they say that we are to take everything to the place of the kings in Hibernia, for the raising of the high king in two weeks’ time. It seems they knew about the embassy, as well as too many other things.

‘Which means that the tribune will get his wish and lead a delegation across the sea. A warship and two transports, one hundred soldiers, including a few of your scouts, Ferox, and the kings and their remaining followers. All to be ready by the day after tomorrow to sail from here.’

‘My lord, I request permission to accompany the expedition,’ Aelius Brocchus’ tone was formal, but his eyes were imploring.

Neratius Marcellus shook his head. ‘I understand your feelings, but I need you for another purpose. It is possible that we can get the hostages back merely by giving them what they want. On the other hand, they may see our agreement as a sign of weakness, and make further demands. Or they may plan treachery from the start.’ He stared at each face in turn. ‘I hope that my fears are unjustified, I sincerely do, but hope is not a sound basis for a commander to make up his mind.

‘We need to be prepared for the worst. There is a chance that they will kill their captives whatever we do. In that case I will not rest until we are avenged. That is my job as legate of the emperor, since I cannot permit the majesty of Rome to be damaged lest others are inspired to commit worse depredations. These men must be punished. If they are indeed some of the Usipi, then they must also pay for their past crimes.’ The practised orator was in full swing, the words flowing, each slight gesture of the hand and each rapid glance full into a man’s eyes was fluid and forceful. Yet Ferox sensed that the sincerity was not feigned. This was more than simply a good performance.

‘Yet I will cherish my hope for as long as I can. If there is the slightest chance of getting back Cerialis and his wife then I will seize it. I need not remind you that the Lady Sulpicia Lepidina is a relation of my wife and very dear to me as well. So if there is any chance at all, I will take it with both hands. Thus, we must consider a rescue, in case these scum do not do as they promise. We do not know where they live, or where they are likely to hold the hostages, but we may be able to find out. The thought occurs to me that they may lurk on some island, either off the coast of Hibernia or further north off Caledonia or even distant Thule.

‘We will find them, wherever they are, but we must have sufficient force to strike a certain and deadly blow. I wish you to command this force, my dear Brocchus. It will consist of two triremes, perhaps another if it arrives in time, along with transports and several hundred picked soldiers. Will you do this for me?’

‘Of course, my lord. It will be an honour.’

‘Good, then I know that I am relying on a man who can temper prudence with boldness. You will wait here until word comes from Crispinus that it is time to act. It is the task of his expedition to find out everything he can. If there is the slightest chance we must seize it.’ The legate clapped his hands to emphasise the point.

There was much to sort out and very little time, but before he hurried off to arrange his side of things, Ferox had one request to make.

‘If you are absolutely sure.’ Neratius Marcellus’ doubt was obvious. ‘Might it not be prudent to keep one as surety to the other’s behaviour?’

‘They may not agree,’ Ferox explained. ‘They will only accept if I show some trust.’

‘It is a risk.’

‘Yes, my lord.’

Ferox rode back to Luguvallium with Vindex. Thankfully the games had been suspended, so they were able to collect the corpse of the warrior they had found on the beach and go to where the prisoners were held. Together they lifted the dead man off the horse, and rolled the black painted warrior onto the ground in front of the cage.

It was the first time Segovax and his brother had shown much interest in anything.

‘Was this one of the men who took your kin?’ he asked.

The Red Cat spat through the bars at the body.

‘He says yes,’ Vindex interpreted.

‘We are going after these men,’ Ferox said, and tried to think how best to explain it so that the northerners would understand. ‘They have taken a Roman chief and his wife prisoner. I am bound by solemn oath to them. I will get them back, if I can. Whether or not I can do that I shall have vengeance and kill every last one of these bastards. Will you come with me?’

Segovax lifted his arms so that the manacles rattled.

‘If you give me your oath you may come and fight beside us. When it is over you may go free, wherever you will, with weapons in your hands. Up until then you will not try to escape.’

‘What oath?’

‘To follow me and help me in any way you can to find these men. Then you will aid us to get back the captives and wipe the land free of these murderers and eaters of men.’

The brothers looked at each other. No word was spoken, but it was a while before the Red Cat gave a slight nod.

The man with the red face turned to them and spoke slowly. ‘We will swear to serve you and hunt them down, to kill them and free your chieftain and his woman. But that is all. Once it is done we are free. We do not give up our promise to kill you and this one. Those are our terms. Do you take them? If not then we will die here for that is our fate.’

‘I accept them,’ Ferox said. Vindex gave him a sidelong glance, but said nothing.

‘Then we swear by the gods of our people, by the sun, moon and stars, by the four winds and green earth, by rock and by breath to serve you faithfully, to fight and die at your side, until the men of the night are killed and your captives safe or dead. Then it is over.’