Caratacus and his allies, there was still a substantial measure of relief. Their camp still stood. The auxiliaries had lost twenty dead, with another sixty wounded. They had slain over a hundred Ordovices warriors, while taking twenty wounded prisoners. Thirty more of the enemy’s injured had succumbed to their fearful wounds, coupled by the outright refusal of the imperial soldiers to offer them aid.
The soldiers of the errant expedition set about re-establishing their tents and repairing the ramparts, while the senior officers met with the centurion who’d been left in command of the camp.
“The Deceangli chief and his wife were taken away,” he explained.
“Did they try to free any of the other prisoners?” Scapula asked.
The centurion shook his head. “No, sir. In fact, I do not think this was a rescue mission at all. We were in the midst of tearing down and moving the stockades when the attack came. The Ordovices actually attacked the Deceangli warriors, killing a dozen or so before fleeing with their quarry.”
“What’s that over there?” Master Centurion Tyranus asked, nodding his head towards the wisps of smoke in the west.
“We saw flames coming from that direction last night,” the auxilia centurion explained. “The trees are thick that way. If it was a campfire, it was an awfully big one. I thought it might be a trap meant to lure us away from the camp.”
Scapula turned to Julianus. “Take two hundred men and find the source of that smoke.”
“I’ll go with them,” Magnus said, drawing confused stares from a handful of his peers. “I think I know what it is…and it’s not a campfire.”
“In the meantime, we should get a little information from the Ordovices prisoners before we dispose of them,” General Paulinus remarked.
Commander Julianus sent sections of his horsemen ahead in skirmishing formation, in case they should come across stray bands of enemy warriors. Centurion Magnus rode with him at the centre of the column.
“What is it you suspect?” the cavalry officer asked. He had only taken over the regiment a year prior and was not as familiar with the indigenous tribes as the centurion.
“It’s just a hunch,” Magnus replied. “The raid was not a rescue mission, since they slew some of their allied warriors. Nor did they try to overrun the garrison or attack our food stores. The Deceangli chief and his wife were taken for a reason, and it’s not because they were being rescued.” He paused as they reached the wood line. The smoke was now more noticeable. “I saw something once, during the invasion…”
“Commander Julianus!” The trooper’s shout alerted the officers.
They rode through the trees to where a section of horsemen gathered in a small opening in the woods. Magnus and the cavalry officer dismounted as they came upon the macabre scene.
The bodies of Elisedd and Runa were badly charred, their faces mostly burned away and scarcely recognisable. Flies gathered around the pile of burned guts in a stone bowl on the pyre. Much of the wood was damp and unsinged.
“They buggered off before the bodies were consumed,” a trooper stated.
“Perhaps they wanted us to find them.” Magnus observed.
“Is this what you expected to find?” Julianus asked.
“It is. During the invasion our chief tribune was captured, hung upside down, and disembowelled. A sacrifice by the druids to their foul gods. Caratacus has done the same to these poor sods.”
“And by surrendering in the hopes of saving their people, the Deceangli chief and his wife sealed their own fate.”
Magnus and Julianus returned and gave their report to the governor, who dismissed them without a word. Scapula then sat on a camp stool, waiting for his principia tent to be erected, his chin resting in his hand. The governor of Britannia was in a vile mood. He had been duped by Caratacus, who had escaped their attempt to engage him in battle. And now their prized prisoners had been burned
The soldiers of the errant expedition set about re-establishing their tents and repairing the ramparts, while the senior officers met with the centurion who’d been left in command of the camp.
“The Deceangli chief and his wife were taken away,” he explained.
“Did they try to free any of the other prisoners?” Scapula asked.
The centurion shook his head. “No, sir. In fact, I do not think this was a rescue mission at all. We were in the midst of tearing down and moving the stockades when the attack came. The Ordovices actually attacked the Deceangli warriors, killing a dozen or so before fleeing with their quarry.”
“What’s that over there?” Master Centurion Tyranus asked, nodding his head towards the wisps of smoke in the west.
“We saw flames coming from that direction last night,” the auxilia centurion explained. “The trees are thick that way. If it was a campfire, it was an awfully big one. I thought it might be a trap meant to lure us away from the camp.”
Scapula turned to Julianus. “Take two hundred men and find the source of that smoke.”
“I’ll go with them,” Magnus said, drawing confused stares from a handful of his peers. “I think I know what it is…and it’s not a campfire.”
“In the meantime, we should get a little information from the Ordovices prisoners before we dispose of them,” General Paulinus remarked.
Commander Julianus sent sections of his horsemen ahead in skirmishing formation, in case they should come across stray bands of enemy warriors. Centurion Magnus rode with him at the centre of the column.
“What is it you suspect?” the cavalry officer asked. He had only taken over the regiment a year prior and was not as familiar with the indigenous tribes as the centurion.
“It’s just a hunch,” Magnus replied. “The raid was not a rescue mission, since they slew some of their allied warriors. Nor did they try to overrun the garrison or attack our food stores. The Deceangli chief and his wife were taken for a reason, and it’s not because they were being rescued.” He paused as they reached the wood line. The smoke was now more noticeable. “I saw something once, during the invasion…”
“Commander Julianus!” The trooper’s shout alerted the officers.
They rode through the trees to where a section of horsemen gathered in a small opening in the woods. Magnus and the cavalry officer dismounted as they came upon the macabre scene.
The bodies of Elisedd and Runa were badly charred, their faces mostly burned away and scarcely recognisable. Flies gathered around the pile of burned guts in a stone bowl on the pyre. Much of the wood was damp and unsinged.
“They buggered off before the bodies were consumed,” a trooper stated.
“Perhaps they wanted us to find them.” Magnus observed.
“Is this what you expected to find?” Julianus asked.
“It is. During the invasion our chief tribune was captured, hung upside down, and disembowelled. A sacrifice by the druids to their foul gods. Caratacus has done the same to these poor sods.”
“And by surrendering in the hopes of saving their people, the Deceangli chief and his wife sealed their own fate.”
Magnus and Julianus returned and gave their report to the governor, who dismissed them without a word. Scapula then sat on a camp stool, waiting for his principia tent to be erected, his chin resting in his hand. The governor of Britannia was in a vile mood. He had been duped by Caratacus, who had escaped their attempt to engage him in battle. And now their prized prisoners had been burned
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