Warrior: Lord of War

Book 0: Warrior

by Simon Scarrow

Genres: Historical Thrillers

Synopsis

AD 28, Britannia. After a terrible betrayal, Caratacus and his surviving men make a perilous escape through enemy lands, hunted at every turn by their relentless pursuers. When they stumble across a hidden enemy camp, they learn that the situation is even worse than they feared. The Atrebates, a Roman client tribe, have laid a deadly trap for Caratacus's fellow warriors. One that could swing the war in their favour.

If Caratacus is to avert a catastrophic defeat for his tribe, he must persuade his father that his intelligence is true. But time is short. And as the war bands prepare for battle, Caratacus must confront his greatest challenge yet . . .

Warrior: the new series set in Britannia - the wildest reach of the Roman Empire . . . From the Sunday Times bestselling authors of Invader and Pirata.

Release date: February 16, 2023

Publisher: Headline

Print pages: 80

Sample

The weather worsened as we continued east that afternoon. The wind strengthened, lifting the snowflakes in great gusts, and the surrounding landscape was blotted out by an impenetrable sheet of white. Soon it was impossible to see more than two spear lengths in any direction, which helped to conceal us from the enemy. But it also meant that we did not know if we were being pursued, and there was the constant risk of running into an Atrebatan patrol, forcing us to slow our pace to a walk. Vassedo led the way: he had scouted in this direction before and knew the country. Every so often the squat hunter would throw up his hand, motioning for us to halt while he rode off to find some distinguishing local feature.

The cold was almost intolerable. The savage wind knifed across the hills, stabbing at hands and faces, and the agony in my bones was worse than anything I had ever known. At dusk, we took shelter in a hollow at the base of a rocky hill. The horses grazed on the feed from the nets attached to their harnesses, and we took a small meal of biscuits and salted pork. While the men gathered up withered fern fonds and cut reeds from a nearby stream to fashion crude bedrolls, I made a brief study of the night stars, remembering the lessons on navigation I had learned from the Druids at Merladion. I found the constellation our people know as Lud’s Plough – I do not know your name for it – and orientated myself, laying down a spear pointing to the east, so we would know which way to set off the next day.

That night was a hard one. We covered ourselves with our cloaks and rested our tired heads against the saddlebags, but the wind howled constantly, and when we awoke at dawn, we were bitterly cold and exhausted, and I knew we could not hope to survive for much longer.

It snowed all the next day. We carried on east through a tapestry of ancient forests, heathland and rolling hills. Whenever we neared a village, we would put a dogleg around it, moving away from the settlement before we resumed our course east a few hundred paces further along. Togodumnus argued that such caution was unnecessary and only delayed our escape. But I did not want to take any risks. The Regnians of this part of the kingdom were known to be sympathetic to the Atrebates. I had no doubt they would alert the Atrebatans if they spotted us.

In the early afternoon we neared a place called Crulaigh, not far from where the Mead Way river flowed, marking the border between the Regni and the Cantiaci. Then we stopped and changed course, heading north for the Tamesis. The fresh snowfall helped to conceal our tracks from the enemy, but even so I kept a watchful eye on the horizon behind us. There was no sign of our pursuers, and as the hours passed, I started to believe that our ruse had worked. But any sense of relief was swiftly replaced by my concern for the worsening condition of my men. We must have cut a miserable sight: we were hungry and tired, and our clothes were damp. After a few hours, one of our injured men, Vellodnus, began shivering feverishly. An Atrebatan spear had torn into his flank during the fight at the gorge; despite our best attempts to clean and dress the wound his face soon took on a pallid complexion, his mind became confused, and I privately feared he would not last the night.

At dusk we rested in a shallow gully, shielding our broken bodies from the blizzard. I instructed Vassedo to make Vellodnus as comfortable as possible, but at daybreak we discovered his rigid corpse. We tried to bury him, but the ground was frozen solid and we were forced to abandon our efforts. This caused much bad feeling among the men, for they knew that without a ceremonial burial their comrade’s spirit could not make the journey to the Otherworld.

The snow finally abated soon after first light. We set off north again under clear skies in a sombre mood, and along the way we passed a handful of scattered farmsteads. They looked quiet enough; the only signs of habitation were the thin wisps of woodsmoke eddying into the sky from the thatched roofs of the roundhouses.

‘Seems most of the locals are staying bottled up indoors, lord,’ Dubnocatus remarked, a trace of envy in his voice. I knew what he was thinking: I, too, would have given anything to warm my hands in front of a hearth.

Togodumnus laughed bitterly. ‘They are not fools. You’d have to be mad to venture out in this weather. Mad, or desperate.’ He shook the snow from his hair.

‘How long?’ I asked Vassedo. ‘Until we reach the Tamesis?’

The huntsman squinted at the horizon and made a quick calculation. ‘Half a day’s riding, my lord. No more than that. We should make the river soon after sundown. As long as this weather holds.’

‘Surely it can’t get much worse than this,’ Maglocunus said, exasperated. ‘The gods have punished us enough already.’

‘It is not the gods that worry me,’ I muttered in reply. I glanced back in the direction we had travelled.

Togodumnus said hesitantly, ‘You think they might be following us still?’

‘I don’t know. But I’m sure of one thing.’

‘What’s that?’

‘The Atrebates will be determined to stop us from escaping. The capture of two sons of Cunobelinus would present quite the prize for Verica.’

‘If it comes to that, then let’s make sure that we don’t live to become prizes, brother,’ Togodumnus resolved.

We carried on through a series of foothills and passed through a wooded vale, home to a herd of deer. Then, an hour or so later, I saw movement on the far side of the vale we had just crossed. In the distance, two miles or so from our position, I made out a line of riders trotting downhill, heading in our direction.

A frown notched Togodumnus’s expression. ‘No,’ he said hoarsely. ‘It can’t be.’

Maglocunus stared at the figures in disbelief. ‘I don’t understand. How did they follow us here, lord? We left no trail, and the falling snow would have covered our tracks.’

‘They must have a skilled tracker with them,’ Vassedo answered. ‘One of Verica’s deer-stalkers, I’d wager. They’re the only ones who would be able to hunt us in such conditions.’

‘How do we get rid of them?’

‘We don’t. Those men have the instincts of a hound. Once they pick up a trail, they don’t lose it.’

‘Let’s go,’ I said urgently. ‘We must keep moving.’

For the next few hours we rode hard. The flanks of our mounts were soon heaving with the burden we placed on them, but by the afternoon the enemy had steadily gained on us, and when I glanced back again they were less than a mile away. A while later, two of the horses collapsed from exhaustion. We had to abandon the mounts, and the riders climbed onto the two strongest remaining horses. The beasts protested at the extra weight they were being forced to carry, and soon they began to struggle to maintain a good pace.

‘How in Lud’s name have they drawn closer?’ Togodumnus growled as the figures appeared on the brow of the hill behind us.

‘They’re in friendly territory,’ I reminded him. ‘They’ll have access to fresh mounts from the villagers, and they’ll know the fastest routes across the countryside.’

‘Either way, they’ll catch us soon enough,’ Maglocunus said. He grimaced.

‘What are we going to do?’ asked Togodumnus.

I gripped my reins tightly. ‘Keep riding. If we make it to the Tamesis we’ll lose them on the other side.’

We carried on, but our pursuers were always in view on the horizon now, and I knew it would be a close-run thing if we were to reach the Tamesis before they could catch us.

Half an hour later we rounded the base of a low hill. After a hundred paces we reached a narrow trail running between pine trees where the boughs had shielded the ground from snow. I called our party to a halt and ordered the men to steer their horses through the forest, since the snowless trail would make it more difficult for our pursuers to follow us. At the same time we tied fallen branches to our mounts’ tails, raking over the ground behind us to cover their hoof prints. We continued north for perhaps . . .