“I’d have thought that if any did survive the initial assault, they wouldn’t have lived for much longer afterwards, better to have died straight away than be taken alive.” Varro replied finishing his wine. He stood up, “That’s enough for me I want a clear head, I’m going to check on my men.”
The rest of the day passed fairly quietly, only one legionary was slightly injured through an arrow shot into the fort, it struck his shield and glanced off opening the flesh at the top of his nose. The rain continued to fall, and the ground in the interior of the fort started to turn to mud where there weren’t any wooden walkways, as men walked to their posts, everything was either wet or damp. As the sun started to fall, Cammius doubled the guard on the walls whilst others tried to sleep. Fires could be seen through the trees, more fires than they expected to see, clearly, the enemy still had large numbers willing to fight. The Roman defenders knew an attack was imminent but the question was, when it would come. A few hours after dark had enveloped the entire region, the sentries began to see movement in the trees, shadowy figures dragging equipment towards the edge of the tree line. Cammius and Varro had gone to have a look expecting an attack to start but it didn’t come and so they waited, hour after hour and still the rain fell.
“I’d have got fed up by now and gone home. You have to admire them I suppose.” Cammius remarked standing next to his fellow centurion. “They must be as wet as us? Surely they know they won’t penetrate our walls again?”
Varro didn’t know if his words were a question or a statement, and he certainly didn’t know if it was correct, he didn’t reply, just continued to stare out into the wilds. The scorpion crews waited like everyone else, piles of javelins were propped in corners or lay end up in the iron rings designed to hold them for such an eventuality. Archers walked along the walls glistening with water, carrying their bows, whilst legionaries stood holding their pilums, watching the woods.
“I did think about asking you and your men to make a run for it this morning. At least if you’d got through we’d know that support was on its way to deal with these barbarian bastards.” Cammius said.
“I was waiting for you to ask and as the commander here, you could have ordered us to make the attempt. The trouble with that would be the gates would have been open for us to get out on horseback, and you’d have been weak until you managed to secure them properly again. Even if we’d managed to get away from here, we could have been ambushed further away and you wouldn’t have known a thing about it.” Varro said.
“How many of them do you think are out there, hundreds, thousands?” Cammius asked.
Varro turned to look at him, rain falling from his helmet, “Have you considered that this may be an uprising and as we sit here Isca is under siege as well?”
Cammius grinned sarcastically, “You can’t be serious, a full rebellion all over the country, is that what you mean?”
Varro shook his head to get rid of some of the water on his red plume and rain splattered over Cammius. “Sorry.” He said. “Yes a full scale rebellion, we don’t know what we’re dealing with. I thought you had considered the idea of us breaking out and had discounted it for that same reason.”
Cammius wiped his face, “I hadn’t thought about it, Mars help us if you’re right though.” He lent forward watching the rain running off his plume, “All the more reason to hold fast then eh?” He stood up. “You haven’t mentioned this to any of the men have you?”
“No, it’s the last thing they need running through their heads. What I have told them is that by this time tomorrow night a full cohort will be here and will be cutting them,” he nodded outside, “to ribbons.” Rain fell from his helmet again.
With thick cloud cover and rain still pouring, the Britons attacked again. They had constructed larger wooden shields and walked slowly towards the forts walls. Scorpion bolts, arrows and javelins thundered into their covers, once more having little or no effect.
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.