Dark eagle, p.1
Dark Eagle, page 1
DARK EAGLE
Book one of the Exploratores Series
K. M. Ashman
All rights are reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored, or transmitted in any form or by any means without prior written permission of the copyright owner. All characters depicted within this publication are fictitious, and any resemblance to any real person, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Contents
Title Page
INTRODUCTION
Foreword
Character Names
MAP
Definition
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Epilogue
Coming Soon
Authors Notes
Books By This Author
INTRODUCTION
Rome. One of the largest and most successful empires in history. A brutal superpower whose military machine was one of the greatest the world has ever known. For generations, her forces were second to none and millions of people across the known world trembled at the sound of her marching legions.
Their stories are well-documented, but there were others just as important as their all-conquering legions, much smaller units who were just as, if not more important to the success of any mission.
These special groups of men had a huge influence on Rome’s continued greatness yet left little behind in the way of records and receiving little, if any recognition for their service.
In modern day parlance they would be called special forces and were deployed to achieve whatever advantage they could to aid help Rome in its never-ending expansion of her empire. Elite units of men, working in total secrecy behind enemy lines, relying on subterfuge and secrecy to achieve their often-brutal missions.
They were real, they existed… and this is their story.
Foreword
There is no doubt whatsoever that the Roman Empire, like many others at the time, used elite forces to gain as much as an advantage as possible, both in times of war and in times of peace, but although they may not realistically be equated to the men we call special forces in the modern age, there were certainly some that evolved from being just elite, into something more secretive, more special, and in some cases, more sinister.
The forces referenced in the following story have been recorded in historical documents from as far back as Julius Caesar during his campaigns in Gaul and mentioned thereafter in many different sources right up to the fall of the Roman Empire. These forces included, amongst others, the exploratores, the Speculatores, the Areani and the Frumentarii. They served across the known empire and even deep into the heart of Rome itself. Some served as scouts, operating behind enemy lines to cause whatever disruption they could or simply to gather information. Some acted as spies or actually joined the enemy armies to get inside information. Then there were those that simply served as assassins, but whatever their calling, it is evident that in their time and place, they certainly carried out operations that we would recognise as covert even today, two thousand years later.
These men actually existed and for hundreds of years provided the military and politicians with the important information needed to gain advantage in a bloody world of battle and political intrigue. But by their very nature, they left few records and that fact in itself is intriguing and sends the imagination racing back across the centuries to wonder who they were, and what clandestine operations they may have undertaken.
This novel is a work of fiction, but it draws on the correct historical context and events of the time. The storyline reflects only what might have happened, the rest is up to your own imagination.
K. M. Ashman
Character Names
The Occultum
Gaius Octavius Seneca - Roman Tribune
Marcus Antonius Maecilius - Roman Centurion
Raven - Celtic Scout
BrennUS - Batavian Auxiliary
Sica - Turkish Assassin
Falco - Ex Gladiator
Talorcan - Belgic Guide
Other Roman Characters
Decimus - Retired Explorator
Umber - Roman Senator
Secundus - Legate of the Legio XVI Gallica in Germania
Lepidus - Legate of the Legio III Gallica in Southern Gallia
Rufius - Bireme Centurion
Crassus - Primus Pilus of the Legio XVI Gallica in Germania
Scipio - Camp Prefect of the Legio XVI Gallica in Germania
Marcia - Tavern maid
Lucilla - Wife of Lepidus
Cherusci Village
Sigimar - Chieftain
Kassab - Blacksmith
MAP
Circa 41 AD
Credit - Wikipedia
Definition
‘Occultum’
That which is hidden, concealed or secret.
Pertaining to things that are not visible or known to the senses.
Hidden aspects of knowledge or matters that are deliberately kept out of the public eye or away from general understanding.
Prologue
Gallia - 40 AD
The dawn mist hung low over the crossroads, a cold, ghostly shroud that seemed to dampen even the slightest of sounds. Gaius Antonius, his breath visible in the chill air, stood alone, his hand resting on the pommel of his gladius, eyes fixed on the barely discernible path ahead. The Roman Empire, in all its glory, was yet blind to the secrets that morning shadows held.
The rustle of footsteps broke the stillness and three figures emerged through the mist from the direction of the Helvetii village. Gaius swallowed hard, he had been meeting the same people for many months but even after all this time, it was just as nerve-wracking, and the safety of the fort walls seemed hundreds of leagues away.
The three warriors approached, coming to a stop just before the optio and looked deep into the mist to check he was alone. Once they were sure, the larger of the three men spoke.
‘Did you check you were not followed?’
‘I am always diligent,’ said Gaius. ‘Nobody knows I am here.’
‘You were supposed to come at the last full moon. We were waiting.’
‘My unit were sent out on a last-minute mission, ‘said Gaius, ‘there was nothing I could do about it.’
‘What sort of mission?’
‘Nothing that would be of interest to you,’ said Gaius, ‘just some tax collecting from one of the other villages.’
One of the warriors spat on the floor, signifying his distaste for such actions.
‘Have you brought what we agreed?’ asked the main warrior.
‘I have not,’ said Gaius, ‘but what I have is far more valuable and is worth at least two bags of silver.’
The warrior sneered.
‘And what makes you think I will pay such a price?’
‘When you see what it is, you will beg me to take your coin. Besides, it is getting more dangerous by the day.’
‘Show me.’
Gaius reached beneath his cloak and produced a rolled-up parchment. He knelt down and spread it out on the path. The warrior joined him, his eyes straining in the growing morning light.
‘What is it,’ he asked, ‘some kind of drawing?’
‘Better than that,’ said Gaius, ‘it is a detailed plan showing the location of every major Roman fort from here to Rome itself. What’s more, it shows the roads between them as well as the storage depots needed to sustain their operations. With this information you can target their supply columns and be long gone before any alarm is raised.’
‘And this is accurate?’
‘It was left on a table after a briefing’ said Gaius, getting to his feet. ‘As I said, it’s getting more dangerous by the day.’
The warrior returned his attention to the map while the optio looked around nervously. It was getting light, and he really needed to be getting back to his unit.
‘It is good,’ said the warrior eventually, ‘and you will get the extra silver you asked for. I will leave it in the usual place.’ He rolled up the map and got to his feet before handing over a heavy purse. Gaius hurriedly placed it in a pocket beneath his cloak before extending his arm.
‘Until next time,’ he said as the warrior took his wrist in friendship.
‘Bring me something special when we next meet,’ said the warrior, ‘and if it is as good as this map, perhaps I can also find some gold to line your purse.’
‘I will certainly try,’ said Gaius and turned away to walk into swirling morning mist.
‘He disgusts me,’ said one of the warriors as the optio disappeared, ‘he has no honour.’
‘Traitors are the same everywhere,’ said the leader, ‘and loyalty can be weighed by the size of the purse. I share your hatred but at the moment he is useful and as long as that remains so, we will tolerate him.’ They turned away and headed back towards the village with the Roman plans safely tucked away.
Back up the path, Gaius approached the forest, relieved to be going back to his unit. For a few moments he had hated the fact he was betraying his countrymen, but the feeling soon passed as the purse of silver weighed heavy in his cloak. His brother was on duty at the fort gates and would let him back in, no questions asked, especially as he would share the ill-gotten gains.
As he approached the trees, he stopped suddenly as he saw a movement on the path in front of him. His hand went to his gladius, and he stared hard, trying to make out if it was a man or an animal of the woods.
‘Who’s there,’ he asked, ‘show yourself?’
When there was no reply, he breathed a sigh of relief and replaced his gladius in its scabbard, but before it was even halfway in, a hand wrapped around to cover his mouth from behind, tilting his head back to expose his neck. Before he had time to react, a razor-sharp blade plunged deep into his throat and carved through his jugular vein, preventing any screams of pain and sending a fountain of scarlet skyward.
The whole attack had been swift and deathly silent, and, as if wanting to avoid any further distress to his victim, his assassin lowered him gently to the floor, making comforting noises as if talking to a scared child. As the optio died, his last view was the sight of a man’s hooded face, containing the blackest eyes he had ever seen.
Moments later he was dead and as the assassin looked down upon him, another figure appeared from the mist.
‘Is it done?’ he asked quietly.
‘It is,’ said the assassin, ‘and he was carrying this.’ He tossed the bag of silver over to his leader, before cleaning his blade on his victim’s cloak.
‘Greed is a sickness,’ said the second man, his gaze still fixed on the corpse of the Roman traitor. ‘But now we should get out of here.’ He looked up and faced the bracken covered hill to the side of the path, and blowing gently into his cupped hands, replicated the forlorn sound of a hungry night owl.
The two men stood in silence for a moment, the weight of their task pressing down upon them. Then, as if upon an unspoken command, a further four figures arose wraithlike from the undergrowth, indistinct silhouettes, moving with a silent, deadly grace to return to their hidden base deep in the forests of Gallia. And as they disappeared into the trees, the mist began to lift, leaving no trace of their existence except the corpse of a man who had risked all to betray Rome… and had paid the price.
----
Chapter One
Rome
The sun dipped low on the horizon, casting a warm, golden glow over the bustling streets of Rome, a city alive with the rhythms of daily life. In the midst of this vibrant scene walked Quintus Marcius Lepidus, a distinguished legate of the Roman Empire, his steps measured and determined, reflecting his disciplined military background.
Lepidus was a tall and imposing figure, his Roman toga draped gracefully over his broad shoulders. He wore a finely woven tunic beneath, its deep purple hue signifying his rank and social standing, and a crimson sash encircling his waist, a symbol of authority and honour. On his feet, was a pair of well-crafted leather sandals, and as he walked, his bearing was dignified, and his demeanour exuded confidence and authority. His clean-shaven face bore the distinguished marks of age and wisdom, and his piercing eyes took in the world around him with a keen awareness.
Flanking him were his two loyal bodyguards, both formidable men of great skill and unquestionable loyalty. They moved with the alertness and precision that came from years of training in the Roman legions and each was armed with a gladius, ready to protect their commander at a moment's notice.
The streets of Rome at dusk were a sensory symphony, the air thick with the fragrance of street vendors offering a range of tempting delights including roasted chestnuts and spiced wine, while the distant aroma of freshly baked bread wafted from nearby bakeries. The rhythmic clattering of hooves on cobblestones mixed with the chatter of merchants hawking their wares, and the laughter of children playing games in the alleys.
The flickering glow of oil lamps began to illuminate the streets, casting long shadows on the grand architecture of Rome. Ordinarily he would have met the man he was going to meet at his villa outside the city walls, but the senator was currently in the city having attended to his civic duties for the past few days and was using his private house on the outskirts of the city for convenience.
Lepidus continued, enjoying the experience. It had been quite a while since he last visited Rome and was finding the experience quite refreshing, especially after living the last two years of his life in a legionary fortress in Gallia. The sight of so many people living their lives in relative safety without risk of an attack at any moment was an unfamiliar, yet welcome situation and reminded him of why he had chosen the life he had.
Stopping to buy a flask of wine, he looked around the darkening streets, once again taking in the many sights, sounds and smells. Rome was certainly a heady experience, and he would have loved to stay longer but the dark forests of Gallia was where he belonged, and it was there that he wanted to return as soon as possible. With a deep sigh he continued his journey as one of his guards paid the vendor and a few moments later, found himself outside the ornate house of Senator Lucius Octavius Umber, a man of great influence and esteem.
The mansion's façade was embellished with intricate frescoes, the grandiose entrance flanked by imposing marble statues of Roman gods, and, as Lepidus approached the massive bronze door, it swung open, revealing the senator's vestibule adorned with opulent mosaics and fine art. Senator Umber himself stood there, dressed in a richly embroidered toga, to welcome his esteemed guest.
‘Legate Lepidus,’ declared Umber warmly, ‘you honour me with your presence,’ and clasped his guest’s forearm in the traditional Roman manner.
Lepidus returned the greeting with a respectful nod.
‘Senator Umber, it is always a pleasure to be in your company.’ He lifted the flask of wine. ‘I have brought you a gift, your favourite I believe.’
Umber took the wine and removing the stopper, lifted it to his nose. A smile appeared on his face, and he looked up at his friend of many years.
‘Do you know what,’ he said, ‘I now have access to the most expensive wines in the known world, yet it is always the local vineyards that bring a warmth to my heart.’
‘I suspect it is the memory of the many nights we enjoyed its full effect as young men,’ laughed Lepidus, ‘or those we can remember, anyway.’
‘I’m sure it is,’ said Umber, ‘and we will relive those heady days later, but come, I have had a meal prepared in your honour. I hope you are hungry.’
‘I am,’ said Lepidus and together, they left behind the bustling city streets and stepped into a world of luxury, power, and intrigue, where the affairs of Rome were often decided upon, and the lives of men curtailed.
----
Two hours later, both men sat on finely crafted wooden chairs with carved details and upholstered cushions. The ablinum, the room used to receive clients and conduct business affairs, was unusually ornate with beautiful murals and exquisite statues. At the far end, in its own alcove, was a bust of Emperor Caligula and both men shared a knowing glance, each in agreement but reluctant to voice their hatred of the man.
The food had been sumptuous with roast goose, fish and a selection of the freshest vegetables Umber’s servants could find, and now, both men watched with anticipation as one of the slaves poured the wine Lepidus had brought from the market. Once the slave was finished, the senator dismissed him and sat back in his chair.
‘That was quite the meal,’ said Lepidus.
