Hosker, G [Sword of Cartimandua 11] Roman Treachery by Griff Hosker Page B

parted.
    Briac felt confident moving around the city of Eboracum.  He had grown up there and played in the woods by the river. When his family had moved to the farm in the vale he had been a youth and still visited the shadier side of Eboracum; the taverns and whore houses in the vicus.  In this way he had become familiar with both the criminal and the military world.  He knew many of the soldiers from the garrison and, latterly, had shown them sympathy and remuneration when their salary had not stretched as far as they wished. His uncle had led an abortive rebellion some years ago and he had misjudged the soldiers. Briac would not make the same mistake and he had cultivated the friendship of the men his uncle had wanted to slaughter. His greatest achievement, however, was placing one of his men, successfully, in the thorn in the Brigante side, Marcus’ Horse. There were problems with having a man on the inside of that force for they had tight security and it was sometimes difficult for Briac to meet with him but, as they were now stationed in the capital, it had become easier.
    Briac knew that Dagger, that was the name they had chosen for their spy, would go to the inn called The Fosse.  Few of the ala went there and Briac had been there for three nights just waiting for Dagger to meet. He had only been in the ala for a year or so and his intelligence had not yielded much but Briac and the other Brigante leaders knew that haste had been their undoing in the past.  They needed patience. When his contact arrived they ignored each other while they checked the customers for anyone who was paying undue attention to the two men.  The Fosse was not a noted for its gentility and most of the people inside looked like criminals of one type or another but once they were satisfied Dagger sat next to Briac in a particularly dark part of the rark and poorly lit tavern.
    “Good to see you brother.”
    “And you.  How goes life with the Romans?”
    He ruefully rubbed his short hair.  “I do not like the haircuts and I do not like the baths and they seem to live on bread and porridge but I am not with them to enjoy life am I?”
    Briac patted his friend’s arm. “No but the work you do will free our people.”
    “I know when I feel like sticking my sword into the decurion’s throat that thought restrains me.”
    “So what are their plans?”
    “Two turmae have been left on the wall and the rest are to hunt you and your wagon thieves.” He laughed.  “As soon as we heard the news then I knew it was you.”
    “It is good to know that we have achieved our ends.  But this is just the start. I will send word to our Selgovae and Votadini brothers of the weakness on the wall.  They will pay. Where are you to patrol?”
    “We have not been told yet. Some are to be sent to patrol the road and some to hunt you down.”
    “They will find that hard for we are well hidden.”
    “If I am on the road patrol then I will have my scutum on my back.  If I am to search for you then I will carry it on my arm. If you have someone watching the gate then you can warn your people and ambush us.”
    Briac did not want to jeopardise his spy’s position. “I do not want my men to hurt you.  How will they know you?” He swept his arm up and down.  “In your uniforms you all look to be the same.”
    “My horse has a white blaze on his head and only one white foot.  He is the only one with such a blaze.”
    “Good.  If you come to close to our camp we will ambush you.  Where does the patrol go?”
    “We have been designated to travel the road between here and Morbium.  I think they will use two turmae from here to Cataractonium and two from there to Morbium.  They intend to hold the grain wagons in the city until your threat is eliminated.”
    “So they still have wagons coming into the city?”
    “Yes they have a century of guards waiting south of the fort at the river crossing to escort them he last ten miles.”
    “Good then