There was little movement anywhere else as most people were probably inside staying warm near their fires. The clanging of metal could be heard from a forge as they slowly rode along the track, thick black smoke rose from the chimney at the roof and strong fumes permeated the air. They left the walls of the fort behind and saw that the ice was thinner the further south they went. Continuing along the well-worn path other ships were resting at anchor, they moved and bobbed up and down with the flow of the water where the ice hadn’t reached them. Stores and supplies were being unloaded onto carts from one ship roped against the river’s edge and secured onto two trees, no doubt the unloaded cargo was bound for the fort and the soldiers within. They carried on along the track that now ran parallel with the river, it was much wider here. Eventually the track became just a foot path, they followed it veering away from the water’s edge towards dense woodland.
When they were clear of hearing ears and watching eyes, they stopped and dismounted. “We’d better wait a while before we go back or someone will get suspicious, let’s head up into those woods.” Caratacus said pointing as they left the path completely. The woodland gave them another view of the area from higher ground giving them a different perspective. It was clear that there was only one real way in and one way out of the settlement area except for the abnormal traveller. They checked the woods which would have made an excellent place for a remote post for the Romans but were surprised to find there was none there.
They decided to continue through the woods instead of returning the way they had come so as not to arouse any suspicion. They changed direction and skirted the woods coming back to where they had hidden their swords, satisfied that they had seen enough they galloped off to the north where the rest of the army waited.
Varro didn’t enjoy the end of a campaigning season and he liked being stuck inside a fort in the middle of winter even less. Worse than the two, he hated being stuck on guard duty and that was where he found himself, in charge of all the sentries as the duty officer. He hadn’t seen Brenna or her brother Tevelgus for months and wondered if he would ever see either of them again. They had stayed with the army working alongside them where they could, assisting with Britons and trying to lessen conflicts where possible at Camulodunum.
He passed a group of legionaries playing dice sat at a table. They were due to rotate with the current guards on his next signal at the second hour after midnight. One of the men asked if he would like to join them but he declined saying that he wasn’t very good at the game and was going to make one last check on the men on the wall. He collected his bear skin cloak from a hook on the wall and wrapped it around his shoulders. Leaving the warm building, heated by a large fire he shivered as he went outside into the still night, biting fresh icy air on his face. He climbed the wooden ladder up the wall and made his way to the nearest guard.
“All quiet?” He asked, the sentry looking out into the dark night.
“Yes sir. I haven’t seen anyone for hours but an owl has been keeping us company hooting from those trees over there.” He nodded out into the darkness to where Varro could just about see the outline of a large tree set amongst others beyond the local roundhouses, their canopies just standing out against the sky. Smoke drifted up into the clear night air from numerous fires kept burning throughout the night inside the Britons dwellings. He looked up and could easily make out various constellations that were familiar to him.
“It’s freezing out here, much colder than home during the winter,” he said and stamped his feet banging them on the wooden surface, “the fire will soon warm you up inside though.” The sentry acknowledged his words with a shivering nod. “Not long, I’m just going to have a word with the artillery crew.” The sentry nodded as he walked around the guard straining his eyes to see the men under the cover of the tower.
“Sir.” Acknowledging his arrival one of the two ballista crew said.
“How’s it going?” He asked.
“Well my balls are now frozen solid and I can no longer feel my hands but apart from that it’s as quiet as the grave sir.” The other man said from behind the first.
Varro laughed, peering under the low roof he could just see the other man sat down huddled up, “I know the feeling believe me but it won’t be long and you’ll be back inside and in the warmth where you can get some food and a hot drink, the feeling will soon come back to you, I doubt the damage is permanent.”
“I hope not sir or my woman will want to have a word with you I’m sure.”
Varro smiled, “Everything quiet then?”
“Apart from that fucking owl hooting away all night, it’s kept us awake.” He joked looking towards the tree line. “If it keeps going with that racket on our next shift I’ll send a bolt flying in his direction, see how he likes that.” He crouched and came out from under the roof. “This bastard of a country is freezing in winter, why couldn’t we have gone to Greece or somewhere warm, somewhere near the coast, Sicily maybe or even Macedon? The cold gets right into your bones I don’t think I’ll ever be the same again. Can’t you ask the General to have a word and have us replaced with another Legion sir?”
“I think you overestimate my influence soldier and his for what it’s worth.” He replied.
His companion said, “I wish you’d stop complaining about the fucking cold, it just reminds me how bad it is.” He said to his companion. “Obviously it’s fucking cold but on the wall we can’t do anything about it can we. If we had a fire those hairy bastards would be able to see us from miles away and you’d look a right cock with an arrow sticking out of your face, wouldn’t you?”
All three men laughed as they rubbed their hands together and moved from one foot to the other in an attempt to stay warm. Varro looked over the wall at the white frosty ground below.
“One good thing about this weather is that any Briton worth his salt is wrapped around his woman, next to a fire if he’s got any sense.” Their commander said as he continued to peer over the palisade. Movement suddenly caught his eye, frowning and looking over to the left he saw a fire blaze into life aboard one of the vessels moored along the river bank.
“Sir.” One the guards said.
“I see it.” He replied quickly, he knew that the sentries aboard the vessels rarely had fires aboard the ships and then only under strictly controlled conditions inside the iron braziers.
“Sound the alarm.” Varro ordered without hesitating as one of the men he had been passing the time with just a moment before, began rattling a large metal triangle.
Varro turned to the remaining guard, “Let’s get that ballistae cranked up and ready to fire just in case.” As he spoke these words, the ship next in line, sparked to life with flames of its own on board. There was no question now that someone must have deliberately set the fires. As he watched both blazes trebled almost instantly in size, pushing flames into the air, something must have been used to accelerate the fire. A horn sounded from inside the fort sounding the alarm, in moments it would be brought to life.
As the area beyond lit up Varro saw dark figures moving about on the decks of the boats, they clearly weren’t Roman. He ducked under the low roof of the tower as the sentry struggled to wind the ballista back. “Here let me help you.” He said. “Your hands are probably frozen.”