Eagles and Dragons Tribune Box Set

IV - Allies-2

“They might not be happy to see us then.” Dagon felt for the hilt of his long sword, that which had belonged to his uncle, Mar.

“You could be right. Let’s see.” Lucius did a mental check of all his weapons - the spatha at his saddle, the daggers about his waist, and Adara’s sword which hung at his back. Part of him wished he had put the mask of his helmet down so as to observe the Votadini from safe anonymity.

A gust of wind licked at his red cloak, and Lunaris stomped his front hooves in the mud as the first horses approached their side of the bridge.

The Votadini were warriors, there could be no doubt, and though their arms and armour were slightly aged, they were polished and effective. Cuts and scars showed proudly beneath the outer sheen.

The lead rider carried a banner bearing a galloping white horse on a red background.

The sight gave Lucius pause as it reminded him of a dream, though he could not remember what.

The standard-bearer turned toward Lucius’ own banner and stopped.

Then came the leader, an aged man whose grey hair was the only sign of advanced years. Otherwise, he was tall and proud, his bearing regal. He smiled.

“I am Coilus, Chief of the Votadini, and I welcome Rome back to the lands which are rightfully hers. Ave!” He saluted.

Lucius edged forward to get close. “Salve, Coilus of the Votadini!” Lucius saluted back. “I am Lucius Metellus Anguis, Praefectus of the Ala III Britannorum, Quingenaria Sarmatiana, serving Lucius Septimius Severus, Emperor of the Roman people and conqueror of the Parthians.”

“We have been hearing much of your deeds against the Selgovae and the other rebel tribes, Praefectus. Your men are mighty upon the field.”

“As have yours been in Rome’s absence from these lands. Are you yet Rome’s ally?”

The blunt question took Coilus by surprise, but only momentarily. The older man smiled and his laugh boomed in the valley.

“The Gods themselves could not make me turn from Rome, Praefectus!”

Lucius smiled back and the tension eased. “Then we can return to base, and break open the amphora of Falernian I’ve been saving.”

“Oh, how I’ve missed the Empire,” Coilus chuckled as he fell in beside Lucius and they led the way back to the fort. “This is my son, Afallach.” Coilus nodded to his standard bearer, a young scowling man the same size as Lucius.

Lucius nodded to the younger man who simply stared back at him.

“I’ve got quarters for you and your men,” he said turning back to Coilus. “Once you’re settled, we can talk.”

They passed beneath the gates and turned up the Via Decumana to the horse yards.

The fort erupted with noise.

“I see you’ve made improvements to the fortress since arriving,” Coilus commented to Lucius as he looked around. “It hasn’t looked this defensible in years.”

“It required a lot of work, but we needed it as a secure point north of the wall. Sixth legion provided much of the man power.”

“Feels like old times,” Coilus smiled, removing his helmet.

Lucius removed his own and enjoyed a momentary ray of sunlight upon his face. He watched the Votadini chieftain stroke his horse’s muzzle briefly and wondered if he could be trusted. He was inclined to like Coilus, his seemingly honest demeanour, but his son, Afallach, unnerved him. Lucius made a mental note to double the guard that night.

“Come,” Lucius said to his guests. “Let me show you to your quarters where you can refresh yourselves before getting down to business and that wine.” Lucius turned toward the southern end of the fort and the commander’s house where rooms had been prepared for Coilus. “My decurion, Hippogriff, will see your men and horses taken care of.”

A tall Sarmatian standing at attention nearby saluted and went about his task.

Lucius and Coilus kept walking, and Dagon, Barta, and Afallach followed.

That evening, as the Sarmatian and Votadini men ate and drank in their tents and what remained of the barrack blocks, Lucius, Coilus, Dagon, Brencis, and Afallach dined in the triclinium of the commander’s house. Barta stood outside the door as usual, silent and imposing.

The plaster on the walls was old and bubbling, and the roughly hewn wood furniture not of the greatest comfort, but the room was dry thanks to the new roof, safe from the intermittent showers that seemed never to end in that region of war.

The fare was simple - fresh bread, roasted lamb shank with spiced millet, and greens.

Lucius watched his guests eat: Coilus appreciatively, Afallach slow and measured. Lucius found he was not hungry - thoughts of the Boar’s words still lingered in his mind. He ate little and drank even less, and Dagon followed suit.

“How is life at, I forget the name of your fortress…” Brencis, clearly uncomfortable with the silence, tried to engage Afallach in conversation. “The ‘Curia’ is it? I’ve heard it called that.”

The question was innocent enough, but it brought Afallach to a seated position.

“It is called Dunpendyrlaw, Roman.”

Brencis held up his hands. At a look from Lucius, he dismissed the thought of reaching for his pugio.

“Peace, friend. I knew not of that name.”

Afallach reclined again, his eyes on the young Sarmatian.

“And I am no more Roman than you,” Brencis added. “Our praefectus here is the only Roman in this entire fort, I’ll wager.”

“Ha, but not in loyalty!” Coilus clapped his hands and shot an angry glance at his son. “All of us here are loyal to Rome, Praefectus. Have no doubt. Tomorrow, the Votadini will renew their sacramentum to the emperor before all your men. I see that this has been troubling you, and so I wish to put your mind at ease.”

“I’ve been at war in these parts for many months,” Lucius said, placing his cup on the squat table before them. “Allies have been few and far between.”

“Understood. Well, we are here now.”

“And we,” Afallach jumped in, “have been fighting, alone, on Rome’s behalf for years. Since Rome tucked tail and withdrew from Antoninus’ wall, it has been us, and us alone who have held the Selgovae at bay.”

“And Rome thanks you for it,” Lucius said, low and evenly to the young Briton. “It may be that bad decisions were made in the past, but this is a new emperor. Severus intends to take all of Caledonia by storm and put an end to the rebellions that plague this frontier.”

Coilus and his son were silent.

Lucius realized he may have spoken out of turn, but he could not stop now.

“You’ll enjoy your Pax Romana soon. The emperor conquered the Parthian Empire where every Roman who tried had failed. The Caledonii will prove much easier a conquest,” he said, but as he did so, a chill ran the length of his spine.

“Fine words, Praefectus,” Afallach scoffed. “I fear you will dine on them.”

“Peace!” Coilus’ fist grabbed hold of his son’s wrist. “You insult our hosts.” He turned back to Lucius and Dagon. “Ever since we have heard you defeated and captured the Boar of the Selgovae, he’s been of a foul disposition.”

“Why’s that?” Dagon asked. “I’d heard he was a nightmare for the Votadini. Surely you must be happy he’s to die?”

“No.” Afallach stood then, his strong frame’s shadow dancing on the wall behind him as the brazier crackled. “It has been my aim to defeat him on the field once and for all.”

“He’s a great warrior,” Lucius commented.

“And he was to be mine,” Afallach stated. He looked wounded, truly disappointed. “Tell me, Praefectus, how many of your cataphracts did it take to bring him down? Five? Ten?”

“Didn’t you know?” Brencis smiled behind his cup. “The Dragon ate the Boar on his own.”

Afallach looked crestfallen.

Dagon watched Lucius rise and stand before Afallach. That look again…sadness.

“It was quite sad, really,” Brencis continued. “A short battle unworthy of the stories we’d heard.”

That’s enough!” Lucius barked over his shoulder. “I’ll not have a great warrior have humiliation heaped upon him when he fought so bravely.” Lucius turned back to Afallach. “What’s done is done. There will be plenty of other enemies to kill.”

Then Afallach grabbed Lucius’ forearm and pleaded.

“Let me meet him in single combat tomorrow, Praefectus.”

“What? Sit down!” Coilus demanded, but his son ignored him.

“I can’t do that,” Lucius answered.

“There used to be an amphitheatre down by the river,” Afallach continued. “Let me meet him there to fight as our ancestors fought. Let me gain this glory for my people!”

Everyone stared at the young man, his eyes burning with a fervour they could all understand in some way.

“Don’t be ridiculous!” his father bellowed, embarrassed. “The Boar would tear you to pieces. Do you forget the great Votadini warriors he’s sent to the Underworld, the settlements he’s burned?”

“I don’t forget, Father. Do you?”

“Get out!” Coilus growled.

Lucius watched the young man go and nodded to Barta to make sure he returned to his quarters. He then sat down and took a sip of wine. It was a minute before Coilus gathered himself again.

“I must apologize, Praefectus. I had no idea he would say such a thing. Afallach clings to our old ways much as I cling to Rome. He lost two brothers to the Boar, and his sister, Lucretia, was taken as a slave. Some say she was sent to the Ulstermen across the sea…” Coilus hung his head and then drained his cup.

“Drink, friend,” Dagon said as he refilled the aged chieftain’s cup.

“Our people are proud,” Coilus continued. “The Votadini are the finest horsemen in Britannia, erm…until you arrived.” He nodded to the Sarmatians. “We have a great past, and I’ve no doubt that our future, however long that may be, will be greater. But…I will not lie. Our loyalty to Rome has cost us dearly.”

“Why did you remain loyal to Rome?” Lucius asked. “There was no guarantee of another campaign north of the wall.”

Coilus looked Lucius in the eyes.

“The world is different when you have children to hand it to. In a way, you fight more fiercely to preserve it. Our people thrived under the Pax Romana. I wanted my children to grow up in a world guided by Rome’s light.”

Coilus rose and moved to stand beside the brazier and stare into the flames.

“I wanted my children to have an education, to see the Empire for all that it offers. I wanted them to know that the world is more than a grass and rock fortress at Dunpendyrlaw.”

Before turning, Coilus wiped a tear from his cheek, and Lucius realized the hardship that Rome had given the Votadini for a few bits of bloody silver and gold.

“Most of my children are dead now. Only Afallach remains. He is the only one that I can pass my dreams to now… And the Selgovae and Caledonii would take that away from me as well.” He sat down heavily. “That is why I remain loyal to Rome, Praefectus.”

Lucius had no words of comfort, for any attempt would be an insult. He raised his cup, as did Dagon and Brencis.

“To you, Coilus, and the Votadini. We are honoured to fight alongside you with Epona herself whispering on the wind.”

They all drank and were silent for a while before going their separate ways for the night.

A short while later, with Hippogriff and Ferda guarding Lucius’ door, the praefectus was finally allowed to shed his armoured skin and be alone. It had been a difficult evening.

Coilus’ words had been upsetting, hard and real, and Afallach’s plea disturbing. However, it was the Boar’s words that still haunted Lucius. He splashed his face with water from a bronze bowl sitting atop an iron tripod beside his bed. After drying, he sat down rubbing his wrists and the coiled dragons that writhed about his forearms. He looked at the dragons wrapped about his finger, and upon the hilt of the sword beside his bed. His armour. His greaves…