Domina Triumphans

Chapter 31: 50 AD, Northern Britannia and Rome

Atticus looked around once had been an orderly farmyard, and now was a fortified camp. His haystacks were gone, corrals rearranged, early vegetables from the garden dug up, and he had kissed his barley and wheat crop goodbye. What he and his family would live on next winter was anyone's guess. Atticus pushed his troubles aside and tried to focus on what to do next. Antonillus had assembled his ragtag warband near the well and trough and was showing them some basic stabbing and thrusting moves. Crestus climbed onto the roof of the barn.

"Oh, shit!" he yelled. "Antonius, Atticus!"

They joined him as early morning sunlight streamed across the grasslands. The glint of weapons could be seen on the horizon, coming ever closer.

"It's the whole damn lot," Crestus said.

Antonillus picked up his bow and a few arrows as a small party of horsemen galloped forward.

"Cattarix of Gaul!" one of them shouted.

Antonillus stood forward on the roof, and took his bow to half draw with a notched arrow as he glared down at them. He held three other arrows in reserve in his drawing hand.

"To whom am I speaking?" he asked.

"You'll know soon enough," the horseman said. "You will come with us and disband these men while we deal with the Romans."

"No," Antonillus said. "I am Cattarix, heir to Gaul and Belgica, King of the Dematae and Corialauni, provisional tribune with IV Britannica, and cousin of the Emperor of Rome. No one but my father and my superior officers commands me. It is you who will leave."

The horsemen laughed. Antonillus brought his bow to full draw and shot their spokesman in the heart. He caught two more in the back as the others fled.

"It's on, now," Atticus said.

...

Claudius fumed as Balba reported on yet another assassination attempt that had struck too close to him. The man Caradoc caught would say only that Claudius was not the target. His intended victims were either Beaky, Domitius, Valerius, Otho, Ruffius, or Claudius' son-in-law Pompeianus. The man died under torture, but it was obvious who sent him and why. Agrippina came into the room. Claudius picked up a statuette from his desk and threw it at her, striking her in the shoulder.

"Julius, Valerius, and Domitius are off limits," he shouted. "They are the only friends I have. The Celt and his family are my captives. And while we're at it, keep your damn minions away from Syria, Judea, Gaul, or Britannia. I need Lucius, Marcus, Flavius, Iolarix, and Antonius where they are."

Agrippina heard him out, nursing her shoulder.

"We'll see," she said.

"Yes, we will," Claudius said.

....

Scapula pondered what had become a torrent of tribes from the North. He had all of II and IX, plus IV Britannica, and II and IV Celtica in the field, and had sent an urgent summons to Vespasian and two other auxilia. If his line broke and he had to fall back, he would have to make a running retreat and ask Primus to bring V from Bodona and perhaps involve the cavalry units in Gergovia. He hoped he would not have to do that and had had men dig ditches and plant stakes ahead of his lines. Still, waves of painted, screaming warriors kept coming. An aide handed him a message. Cogidubnus was on his way and would pick up Yslet's levies. Cartimandua would arrive by nightfall.

From what Scapula could tell, this was a well-coordinated effort and the mastermind was Garamoros, Grainne's brother and Cyllin's uncle. He had a force of over twenty thousand spread over three battlefiends. Prasutagus and Moira were anchoring the colony at Ostoria, while Cyllin and Segovaxus held Pomponia. Scapula's lines, right now, were stretched between the two but holding, barely. This was a worst nightmare coming true. Like the Parthians, the Celts were a dangerous enemy because there were so many of them and their methods were unique. Marcus came toward him.