Iudaea Novel

We set out early the following morning.  It was half a day’s ride to Castra Exploratorum, a cavalry fort used to send out scouts and hunters into Brigante territory.  In my late twenties, I spent summers at the fort working on my tracking and hunting skills.  I knew the road well.

The men had no complaints about their orders, but I still felt like they were keeping a close eye on me.  They knew little about how I gained my position, and I felt like an impostor, like I was given my rank by subterfuge.  Still, these were good men, and my reputation in the ala was well established.  I knew that if I did not have their trust I would earn it in time.

During the night, it had rained, and the air had turned windy and cold, unusually cold for June.  We got to the fort before noon and ate a small meal.  I talked to my former commander and some of the guards about the brigands.  No one could give us any additional information.  We headed west toward the outpost at Blatobulgium after the horses got a chance to eat and drink.  We talked to everyone we met on the road and stopped at every village and farmstead.

A third of the way to the outpost we stopped at a small farmstead located along a small stream shrouded by willow trees.  I asked the farmer about the brigands but he deflected my questions and told me he had nothing to say.  There was a dark bruise on the side of his face and outside his granary were fresh wagon wheel ruts and grain scattered on the ground.  Tributes and taxes were levied in the fall and the farmer did not seem like the careless type.

“You are fortunate to have excess grain to sell this time of year,” I said.
He glanced quickly at the granary and then back to me, “What?”

“It looks like you’ve sold off some grain recently.  Can I take a look?”

He squinted at me and said, “Fine.”  He walked to the granary door and removed a wooden peg from a metal clasp.  The door swung open to reveal a bare floor.  There wasn’t enough grain to last the farmer through the summer until the harvest.  Rome took its share but never so much to leave the farmers hungry and prone to revolt.

“Do you have another storehouse?” I said.

“No.”  The old farmer looked down at the grain on the ground.  The wind picked up and ate away at the piles, spreading the seeds out into the grass.

“Did someone take this grain from you?” I said.

He looked down, his jaw locked, his eyes avoiding contact.

“Are you afraid to say anything because they might come back to hurt you?” I said.

He looked at his small home.

“You know these men aren’t like you and me.  We do our duty.  We follow the law.  You pay your tax in grain and I pay mine in service.”  The man was clearly of local stock so I pushed harder. “They may hate Rome but they have no right to do this to one of their own people.  How many years has your family farmed here?”

“It doesn’t matter!  You can’t protect me every day and night.  They’ve taken more from me than grain and not once did your legions protect me.”

“But we are here now and I can get your grain back.”

He kicked at the grain sending a swirling torrent of seed into the air, “I could care less about the grain!  They beat me and my wife and raped my daughter when she tried to fight them off.  Where were you then? Where!?”

“Who did this?  Where did they go?” I said

“If they find out I told you they will be back and do worse.  Now get out of here!”

“They will be back for sure if you don’t tell us.  We are your only chance to be rid of them.”

“I’m an old man and if I know anything it is that if it isn’t them it will be another bunch of thieves at my door.  It is better to give them what they want than try and fight them and end up dead.”

“After what they did to your family this time, you think they will stop from beating you to death because you give them a little grain?  They are like wild dogs.  You give them a taste and they will come back for more.  They will bring others.  They will wonder what is in the house.  They will remember your daughter,” I said.  I didn’t want to threaten him but I had to make him see they wouldn’t stop.

He scowled at me but the fight had left his eyes.

“Follow the stream until it joins the river. Go along until you find a trail that fords the stream.  Follow the trail,” he said in a quiet voice.

“You will not regret helping us,” I said.

“I already do,” he said as he began walking back to his house.

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Merula, Narses, Cimber, and I went on foot from the ford.  It would have been too difficult to proceed quietly with the horses over the rocky terrain.  The trail narrowed to a path that wound its way through outcroppings and underbrush.  Stones along the way were marked with strange symbols.  Cimber said that some were Druid symbols honoring gods of the forest and others were meaningless scratches.  The trail began to rise, and in the darkening forest, we spotted a level clearing at the top of the bank.

The clearing was nestled amongst large boulders and a halo of ancient oak trees.  Vines were woven in an elaborate pattern between the trees forming a gnarled ring about ten feet off the ground.  The opening was empty except for an enormous fire pit that had not been used for more than a month.  At the other end of the circle were elaborately carved stones set up like an altar.

Around the clearing, outside the oak trees, amongst the rocks were smaller clearings with fire pits and room enough for three or four men to sleep.  They looked to be used frequently, but no one was there.  We also noticed that leading out from the circle were a number of paths like the one we followed.  Two of them were larger, big enough for a cart or small wagon.  They headed in opposite directions along the length of the hillside, one east and one west.  The farmstead and other raids we knew about were mostly in the east.  We began tracking eastward looking for clues.

Time went by faster than I anticipated, and the low clouds brought dusk early.  We were prepared to spend the night in the forest, and I had told the other men not to expect our return.  We found shelter under a rock overhang and made a small fire.  We had some cured meat and sweet wine and wrapped up in our cloaks to endure the night.  I took the first watch.

The clouds cleared after the sun set, and through the trees, I watched the thin crescent of the moon travel a quarter of the way across the night sky.  I woke up Narses to take the next watch and then went to relieve myself.  Standing there, I heard Narses whisper to me.

“What is it?” I said.

“What?” Narses said.

“What did you say?”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Come here and listen.”

Narses stood next to me and after a moment said, “I hear it too.”

“Wake up the others,” I said.

Not more than a half mile along the trail, we saw firelight.  It was down off the trail about two hundred feet in a grove of birch trees growing amongst the boulders.  I sent Cimber ahead to check it out.  By the time he returned, the firelight was dim and the voices quieter.  **There were ten men, two boys, a mule and an old man.  I thanked Fortuna for my good luck.  Cimber said the men were drinking and that only one man looked to be on guard.  The old man was not bound or under any kind of special protection.

We waited until the fire collapsed into coals and the sliver moon was more than halfway across the sky.  I sent Cimber ahead again to assess the guards.  He returned quickly and said that the only guard was asleep, spear in hand, on top of one of the boulders.  We took our time getting closer.

I had Narses train an arrow on the sleeping guard while Merula and Cimber watched my back as I approached the camp.  Elijah was asleep on the outside of the circle, no bindings, no guard.  I knelt by his side and put my hand over his mouth.  He opened his eyes without a hint of surprise.  I showed him the amulet.  He looked around at his slumbering kidnappers and then nodded in acknowledgement.  He quietly got up and grabbed a satchel that was by his side.  We started walking away when he tugged on my arm and pointed back toward the camp.  I shook my head, “No.”  He sighed and continued to follow me.  Barely a man stirred, and we were back on the trail without incident.  We went down the trail a ways before anyone spoke.

Elijah said, “You are early.”

I turned to look at him, “What?”

“I wasn’t expecting anyone for a couple days.  I was hoping to witness their solstice celebration.”

“Why would you want to stay with these brigands any longer than you have to?” Merula said.

“These people’s rites fascinate me, plus I never like to miss a good celebration,” he said.

“I’m sure the governor will throw you a celebration when you return,” I said.

“Well that may be but we can’t go back just yet,” he said stopping in the middle of the trail.

“What do you mean?” I said.

“I need my books.”

“What do you mean?  What’s in the bag?” I said pointing at his side.

“Oh, this and that, some bread from earlier, an extra hat, some acorns from a . . .”

“I don’t care what it is if it not your books,” I yelled in a whisper.  “Where are the books?”

“Well, they are back at the camp of course,” he said.  “You don’t think they would let me go around with my books.  What would keep me there?”

I stood in the trail staring back toward the brigand’s camp.  We could go back and try to steal the books but that seemed impossible.  I thought about my promise to the farmer.  I thought about what I told the boy, but I wasn’t thinking like a decurion.  I wasn’t thinking like a leader, like the head of a unit. I was thinking like a man trying to avoid a fight.

I turned back to the men, “Cimber go back to the unit and get the men.  Try to get back here before dawn.  Merula, take Elijah and follow Cimber.  Narses and I will stay here and keep an eye on the camp.  I want to make sure no one else shows up, and I want to be ready when they find out their hostage has escaped.”

The men acted without hesitation even though I worried they wouldn’t be able to find their way back to the unit in the dark.  But we had to do this now.  More Brigantes would be coming to the grove for the solstice, and if we didn’t prepare before sunrise we would lose the advantage.  Speratus would revel in this, the challenge, the fight, the chance for glory.  I was worried about being caught off guard, about losing men all over some books.  It didn’t help that it was one of the shortest nights of the year, and it was more than half over.

Narses and I climbed up on a tall boulder and watched the camp in the dim light.  Narses was the opposite of his brother, Adar.  He hardly ever spoke and when he did it was only out of necessity.  I asked him how long he thought before they would realize Elijah was gone.  All he said was, “Soon.”  Unfortunately he was right.

The guard finally woke up and walked over to one of the blanketed mounds.  He kicked it and mumbled something.  The man got up and the guard lay down.  On the way to his post the new guard looked around at all the other sleeping men and then at the spot where Elijah was laying.  He yelled back at the other guard who looked up slowly.  The new guard yelled at him again.  Now he got up and looked around too.  Within moments they were waking everyone up and stoking the fire.

A short man with shaggy brown hair finally took charge.  He screamed at the guard and hit him on the side of the head.  The guard who was a full head taller said nothing.  He then went to where he was sleeping and turned over his blankets.  He opened up a large leather bag and pulled out two or three books and looked them over.  Now everyone was awake and crowding around the growing fire to see what was going on.  The short man slung the bag over his shoulder and began barking orders.  In pairs, the men lit torches and headed out in all directions.  It didn’t take them long to find our tracks.  They followed them to the trail.  All we could see were their torches flickering through the trees from our rock perch.  Eventually they headed back.  I had Narses ready his bow in case they found our tracks to the rock.  Thankfully, they passed by and went to the camp where they began loading up the pack mule.

They packed their belongings quickly and were on edge, looking around the whole time.  When they headed out they went in the opposite direction from where we came.  I heard someone call the leader Torrin, and he seemed to know enough about Elijah that he wanted to avoid a conflict with whoever rescued him.  This was bad for us.  There were probably others along the trail heading to the solstice celebration and if he was able to find their camps I would have a much bigger problem.  My men weren’t going to arrive until daybreak, and I could only hope that he wouldn’t find reinforcements by then.

The stars had vanished from the eastern horizon by the time I heard the horses.  I told the men the situation, and we started after the brigands at a canter.  If they stuck to the trail and didn’t find some sympathetic souls to fight with them, they should be easy to catch and overcome.  Coming over a crest in the trail, we saw them on the next hill scattering into the woods.  I ordered the men to spread out and surround them.  I didn’t want a fight.  This was their territory, they had the high ground.  I had Merula stay back with Elijah, as I rode ahead to the hill.  Adar and Narses stayed a hundred feet back to cover me.  I rode to the top of the hill and sat in the center of the trail waiting to see my horsemen complete the circle in front of me.  We had them completely surrounded but none of the brigands were in sight.  The giant oaks and beech along with the boulders provided them with more than enough cover.

When all my men were in place, I said, “Come out now and we can avoid unnecessary bloodshed.”  I repeated the words in Celtic as best I could.

There was no reply.

“Surrender or you will be killed. Do you understand?”  I said.  I felt exposed sitting on the open trail.  I held my shield close and kept turning Saad as I talked.

Still, no reply.

“You leave me no choice.” I swung my sword in a circular motion above my head and whistled.  My men slowly began closing the circle.

“If we surrender you will butcher us like pigs,” I heard from behind a large rotten stump. It sounded like their leader, Torrin.

“I am no butcher.  I do not wish to have your blood on my hands.  Come out now before what little mercy I can afford you is gone.”

From the other side of the trail, a voice called out, “Wait, wait!  We don’t want to fight.”  A man and a young woman stepped out from behind the base of an oak.

Torrin called back, “You worthless pile of donkey shit!”

“Who else wishes to be spared?  Step forward now.”

Others emerged from behind fallen trees and outcroppings.  The leader yelled out again, “You are surrendering to sure death.  You cannot trust them.”

More than half of them came to the trail, no weapons in hand.

“You will face certain death if you do not come forward,” I said.  My men continued to close the circle.

Torrin finally jumped up onto the stump.  He pointed his sword at me, and I could hear Adar’s bow bend behind me.  I waved him down.  Killing their leader now would only eliminate what little trust they had in me.

His face was beat red and he spit when he talked, “How dare you come into our woods and threaten us.  We do not go into your towns and temples and terrorize you.  This act will not go unanswered.”

“It is too late for you to pass your blame onto me.  You are the one who has kidnapped an innocent man and terrorized your own people, stealing their livelihoods and robbing them of their dignity. You are no better than scavengers.”

“We only take back what Rome has taken from us.”

“No. You take what doesn’t belong to you.  You take what you haven’t worked for.  You feed on the vulnerable not because they are weak but because you are weak.”

“I’d rather die than submit to pathetic Romans.”

I turned my attention to the others, “Does this man speak for you?  Do you want to follow him into the afterlife?  Has he done anything but torment farmers and merchants and kidnap old men?”  Two more men emerged from the trees.

“Why are you listening to him?  They have never told us anything but lies.  You are will be slaves by the end of the day if you don’t fight.”

“I won’t lie.  You all will pay for your crimes but if you come with us peacefully you will live to see tomorrow,” I said.  He was right though.  Slavery awaited most of them.  Given the choice, I hoped they would take this over death.

The last three men walked past their leader and joined the others on the trail.  They all looked ashamed.  I don’t know if it was shame for giving up the fight or for what they had done under Torrin’s leadership, but they stared at the ground and wouldn’t look at me or their leader.

Torrin stuck his sword in the stump and jumped down to the ground, “Curse you all.  You’ve not only betrayed me but all your kind.  I’m surrendering only to prove to you that they are the liars, they are the murderers and thieves.  When they crucify me let my death be your proof.”

My men closed in and tied them up.  I told them to hurry.  I still feared other Brigantes would be in the area shortly.  Before we left, I singled out the first four individuals who surrendered.  I told Merula to cut them loose.

“You can go.  Take your belongings and go back to your settlement.  I do not believe you wish to fight anymore than we do.  I will forgive you this once and assume you’ve followed this little tyrant out of fear or desperation.”  I glanced for a second at Torrin. “But do not betray my mercy because if I come across you again in the company of brigands and murderers, slavery will not be an option.”  I don’t know if this gesture was effective or not.  I hoped it would change them, change their view of Rome, but I accepted the possibility that once back with their people they would laugh me off as a self-righteous Roman pawn.  I also felt some of my own men looking at me like some idealistic fool.  It didn’t matter.  I didn’t know if I was doing the right thing but it felt right, and I was in charge.

I took a quick inventory of the brigand’s belongings and made sure Elijah found his writings.  We headed south back to the main road that ran between the northern outposts.  We moved as quickly as we could, keeping the captives at a slow run. We were fortunate and did not come across any other groups.  Back on the main road, we slowed down but remained vigilant.  When we got to the muddy trail to the farmer’s house, I told Catalus, Varus, and Gratian to fetch the mule that was still carrying two large sacks of grain.  I sent them to the farmer and asked them to relay the message, “That justice had been done.”  It wouldn’t restore his dignity or his daughter’s innocence, but it might restore what little faith he may have in Rome.

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We made it back to Castra Exploratorum before nightfall.  The horses were put to stable and the men enjoyed a hearty meal of fresh rabbit and porridge.  Torrin and his men were chained together and put into a makeshift stockade in the stables.  After eating, I sat outside the small barracks and made some repairs to my scale armor.  Elijah came along and sat down next to me.

“I do not believe I ever thanked you for rescuing me,” he said.

“Your welcome.  The governor was very worried about your well-being,” I said.

“He wasn’t worried about this decrepit old man.  He was worried about what I know.”

I risked overstepping my bounds but he led me to ask, “And what is it that you know that is so valuable?”

A wry smile crossed his bearded face, “I don’t know until he asks me.  I collect information, tidbits about this and that.  I’ve been fortunate that more than once the governor has found it useful to have me around.”

“Well it is clear you have made yourself indispensable.”

“You must be pretty useful yourself for Severus to send you out to find me.  He doesn’t send incompetents to do his tasks.”

“Right place, right time,” I said.

“I think there is more to it than that but whether it was destiny or chance I do have one question for you.  Why did you spare Torrin and his men?  No code prevented you from killing them on the spot, and I don’t believe your men would have questioned an order to attack.  Did Severus ask for Torrin to be spared?  Do these men have information that warrants mercy?”

I hesitated.  His questions were blunt, but I didn’t feel like he was questioning my decisions.  He was simply seeking information.

“I was being honest when I said I am not a butcher.  I already have enough blood on my hands.  Besides my assignment was to bring back a kidnapped scribe not slaughter a pack of desperate thieves.”

“Desperation leads men to go against their better judgment,” he said.

“It can. Especially if they are weak,” I said.

“So you are saying you understand these men.  You see their plight and feel sorry for them.”

“I never said I feel sorry for murderers and thieves.  I said thieves and murderers are weak, desperate men.”  I was starting to tire of his babble.

“Ah, but your words and actions betray your pity for them.  You have a hard time justifying killing a man that under different circumstances could be you.”

“Look old man, you can mix up my words however you like but I am no murderer and if you think as a soldier I am getting soft, that I’ve lost my edge, then you are wrong.  I chose to spare those men, because I am not a murderer not because I feel sorry for them.  And if you want to tell Severus that I’m not a good soldier, that I don’t have what it takes, go right ahead because I am confident in the decisions I made.  I know I did the right thing.”

“I see,” he said getting up from the bench.  He started to walk away and without looking back he said, “I also think you did the right thing.”