Nothing can explain the elation on seeing those horsemen ride down our pursuers and provide a reprieve from our impending deaths. How many men in the Teutoburg had gone to their graves wishing against all hope for just such a salvation? That time, the call had remained unanswered and our destruction ensured. But now the gods had heard us and sent us these thousand horses, mounted by men encased in Roman armour, holding long lances tipped with barbed steel. Some of the Praetorians shouted in encouragement, others laughed, and more than a few wept tears of relief.
The most dangerous time for any host was after it broke. As the outlaws fled, the lancers speared them in the back or ran them down with their long cavalry swords. I saw countless men skewered by the long lances that punched through their armour – both light or heavy – equally easily, driven with such force from the galloping steeds. In moments, Aleixo’s army was reduced to a bloody ruin, the few remnants fleeing south, closely pursued by the Roman auxiliaries.
Marcus looked as stunned as me. ‘They were supposed to be days away. How did they get here so quick?’
I had absolutely no idea, but I also didn’t care. ‘By the gods, that’s a sight to behold.’
A cavalry decurion came up to us and dismounted his horse. He addressed Marcus. ‘Quaestor Aprilis, I have been ordered to secure you and your men.’
Marcus corrected his mistake and pointed to me. ‘This is the quaestor. I am the tribune of his guard.’
It wasn’t surprising the decurion was mistaken. I was dressed in a ripped and dirtied mail shirt and a common legionary’s severely dented helmet, with no outward sign of my rank. The junior cavalry commander stammered an apology and addressed me. ‘Sorry, my lord, as I said, my men have been sent—’
I didn’t let him finish. I’d spotted something behind his shoulder. ‘Apology accepted. Mind if I borrow your horse?’
The confused trooper didn’t get a chance to reply before I pushed past him and vaulted onto the saddle of his mare, giving it a kick to spur it into a fast canter. I heard a shout of dismay from the decurion and Marcus shouted out for me to wait, but I left the two of them behind me with my men.
I’d spotted Aleixo, one of the few enemy host still mounted, riding off to the hills. Whereas most of his men had panicked and fled down the road, he’d been clever and doubled back past the attacking Roman unit and gone to the west. I wasn’t going to let him get away. I knew he had two further forces at his disposal, one of which was the much-feared Balearic slingers. I couldn’t let him rejoin them or his menace would continue in the region. He’d be weakened by this setback for sure, but he’d still return. I needed to end this now.
I rode through the lines of Spanish dead. They lay as they had fallen, with brutal slash wounds to their upper torso or head, or face down on the ground with long auxiliary lanceae protruding from their backs. I pulled up my horse and retrieved one of the long cavalry lanceae from the back of a dead Spanish warrior. I checked that the head hadn’t bent after it had passed through his body. Once satisfied, I used the long spear to hook and pick up the dead man’s caetra shield. I affixed this to my left arm and then kicked my horse forward in pursuit of Aleixo.
I had hoped that running down the Spanish outlaw would be straightforward. I knew his horse would be fatigued after countless charges and attacks on my unit. However, I found the horse I was riding was equally blown. It was of good stock, at least fifteen hands high, a biddable temperament, and a smooth riding gait. But the cavalry must have ridden hard along the road, and its energy was almost spent. I looked up at Aleixo, weaving his way up the hills to the west. He wasn’t getting away, but I was struggling to gain on him. I spurred my horse on, not giving up, taking risks as I rode up the hill by as fast a route as I could find.
Aleixo pulled his horse up when he arrived at the top of the hill. I saw him standing in front of the setting sun, watching me doggedly push my mare higher up the hillside. He could see that I was following him, and I expected him to ride swiftly away to the west. But Aleixo wasn’t going anywhere.
He stood and waited, patting his tired sorrel stallion on the neck, as I made the last two hundred paces to the top. It was clear he wanted this confrontation as much as I did. I gave a grim smile. Only one of us would be riding back down this hill. I intended to make sure it was me.
I alighted at the top of the hill, fifty paces from where he was standing. I wasn’t going to allow him the higher ground, and the flat hilltop meant I could choose a position a fair distance from him. We looked at each other over the stretch of land that separated us. He gave me a nod of respect, then lifted his long spear in the air above his head.
I did likewise before the both of us kicked our horses into a gallop, thundering towards each other. I shifted my weight to the front of my wooden saddle and lifted up my lancea to my shoulder, ready to throw. I saw him do likewise as I lifted myself from the saddle by the strength in my knees and threw with all my strength at the centre of his chest. He swayed his agile mount out of the line of my throw, simultaneously releasing his own weapon. I had no time to evade it but managed to deflect it slightly with my caetra shield as I sped past him. It scored my shoulder, pain like fire burning a path along the top of my arm, before sailing past.
I swung my horse around, drawing my gladius, not having time to check on my shoulder. He did likewise, and again we galloped towards one another. I kept my knees bent in the saddle, toes pointing downwards, as I swept my gladius at his head as we passed. He struck with his falcata, the tip of his blade scoring another hit just below the rim of my helmet.
We cantered past one another before swinging around again. He called over, ‘You fight well, Roman. But you should have never come after me alone.’
I didn’t bother to reply. There was pain in my shoulder and blood seeping down across my vision from the shallow cut in my brow. His blade was slightly longer than mine – I didn’t have one of the longer blades the cavalry carried. I knew I needed to engage more closely or he’d take me apart, one slice at a time.
I spurred my horse down for another attacking run, and Aleixo smiled before thundering towards me on his stallion. This time I didn’t try for another pass, but instead I ran my horse directly into Aleixo’s path. As I hoped, his stallion baulked at the impending collision and the two horses pulled up side by side. I didn’t waste any time, striking quickly with my gladius, which Aleixo parried with his own small caetra shield. We exchange several blows, circling around each other with our mounts, clashing weapons as we turned. Aleixo was an excellent swordsman, with a wristy technique that was both quick and smooth. He swung his blade in a sideways swipe, and I leant back in my saddle, evading it, and thrust with my gladius. He blocked it again with his shield but fell backwards from the strength of the blow. He kept his saddle, but only just, and I pushed forward to try and take advantage of my ascendancy. I aimed another blow at his torso, but Aleixo saw it coming and pulled back sharply on his reins.
His stallion reared, and my horse fell back in distress, causing me to miss my mark. I cursed but kicked my horse forward again, directly into the rearing stallion. The two horses clashed into one another, causing Aleixo to fall from his saddle. He rolled away from his mount, rising quickly. I tried to kick him in the face as I sped past, but the Spanish outlaw was every bit as nimble as his horse, and he grabbed hold of my foot as I went past. This pulled me off my own saddle, and I landed heavily on the ground.
Aleixo swung his falcata at me as I lay prone, but I managed to roll out of the way, falling down one side of the hill. I regained my feet quickly, turning to fend off another attack from Aleixo, who sprang towards me, thrusting his blade at my throat. I parried it and moved back, and we exchanged several more blows and parries. He held the higher ground now, so I was hard-pressed backwards, but I was happier to be on my own two feet.
He thrust towards my chest, which I narrowly parried, before he followed up with a slash to my face propelled by his fast wrists. I swayed backwards, only just
evading the blade. He sensed his advantage and pushed on as I slipped further down the hill. But where there is danger, there is also opportunity. I let him come at me and deliberately evaded a strike late so he would overextend himself, then shot my gladius up into his unprotected lower ribs.
He fell to his knees as I withdrew my bloodied blade. He looked up at me, groaning with pain. I whispered to him, through ragged breaths, ‘And you should have never waited for me.’
He gave a grunt of acknowledgement before slowly toppling backwards, eyes glazing over in death. I gave a final salute of respect with my blade, before kneeling by his side, regaining my breath. That hadn’t been easy.
I rode Aleixo’s sorrel stallion, leading the mare down to the cavalry contingent on the road. Marcus and the decurion whose horse I’d borrowed were both waiting, stony-faced.
Marcus’ tone was flat. ‘You seem to have acquired a new horse.’
‘Yes, I knew I’d have to give the other one back.’ I handed the reins of the mare to the junior officer I’d taken it from. He took it, a deep frown creasing his forehead.
Marcus crossed his arms over his chest. ‘You could have waited until more auxiliaries joined you.’
I gave a small shake of my head. ‘Aleixo wouldn’t have waited for me at the top if I hadn’t been alone. Besides, he’s dead now, it doesn’t matter.’
Marcus sighed. ‘I know. We saw the confrontation from down here. That was a close-run thing, Cassius. You’re lucky to be alive. You need to get those wounds seen to as well.’
I ran my hand over the cut on my brow; it was still bleeding. The pain in my shoulder hadn’t lessened either. ‘Later. I need to speak to the commanding officer first. He needs to know of the other enemy units.’
The decurion spoke up. ‘Your tribune has already briefed him on the other rebels. We’ll be leaving in pursuit come the morning. The commander would like to speak to you nonetheless.’ He turned and pointed to my small unit of Praetorians. ‘You’ll find him over by the rest of your men.’
I trotted my new horse over to the praefectus equitum and dismounted.
He turned from a conversation with my signifer and said in a Spanish accent, ‘So, you’re the quaestor?’
He insisted on my wounds being seen to before he’d speak to me, so I sat on a round rock by the side of the road as one of his troopers stitched my cuts. The young auxiliary commander said, ‘Your tribune and signifer have filled me in on a lot of the details. But can you confirm Aleixo is dead?’
I winced from the pain of a stitch going into my brow. ‘He’s dead alright.’
The praefectus gave a smile of satisfaction and put his hands on his hips. ‘Finally. We’ve been waiting for an opportunity to meet these outlaws in an open battle. When we heard that they were all massing to confront you, Legate Pancratius jumped at the chance to destroy this wasp’s nest once and for all.’
I winced again at the next stitch. ‘Good for me you did. But what I don’t understand is how you got here so quickly. We thought you’d still be days away.’
The commander gave me a grin. ‘Well, it was a tough ride up from Asturica, there’s no denying that. We brought lots of remounts, and we needed to use virtually all of them. Many horses were lame by the end.’
The trooper tied the stitch off and examined my shoulder. I’d removed my battered mail shirt and sat there topless. I looked at the wound, ugly and painful, but not serious. ‘I’m grateful you did.’
The cavalry commander looked at the progress of the stitching with an impassive face. ‘Even so, you have one of your comrades to thank for getting word to us so quickly.’
I raised my newly stitched eyebrow. ‘You mean my optio, Maris?’
The praefectus shook his head. ‘No, that wasn’t his name. It was a bald man, approaching his middle years. We found him dehydrated and exhausted as he approached the camp, almost run to death. I’m not surprised. Apparently he ran for three days to get word to us.’
I stood up in disbelief. ‘Aulus ran for three days in this heat?’
‘Yes, Aulus, that was his name. You have him to thank for us arriving in time. He left your other men and made a run for the camp alone. Dangerous and unwise in the mountains, but I guess, under the circumstances, understandable.’
I sat down, shaking my head in disbelief. ‘My sister is never going to let me forget this.’
The trooper who was stitching my shoulder gave me a stern look. ‘You need to stay still whilst I do this.’
I apologised to him and sat still.
The commander said to me, ‘We’ll be leaving to pursue the other enemy units in the morning. Hopefully we can find them before they get wind of what happened here. I’ll leave you a large escort to take you back to Asturica. Your men have been through enough, I think.’
I gritted my teeth against the pain in my shoulder as the trooper pulled the two sides of the wound together. ‘There was a young tribeswoman. She brought me here through the mountains. I would like to find her before we return to Asturica.’
The praefectus laughed. ‘If my sister doesn’t want you to find her, you won’t see any sign of her.’
I looked at him in surprise. ‘Viviana is your sister?’
He grinned. ‘Yes, I wondered how you got through the mountains so quickly, until your comrade told me of your guide. Don’t worry about Viviana, she can look after herself.’
I winced as the trooper started stitching my shoulder. ‘Don’t you worry about her? She’s alone in the mountains.’
He shook his head. ‘I stopped worrying about my younger sister when she was ten. She’s always been as difficult to cage as a forest nymph. She comes and goes as she pleases, but she’ll come back when it suits her.’
Despite the commander’s words, on the journey back to Asturica I tried to find Viviana. I looked for tracks in the ground near where I’d left her, by the large stream we’d travelled down. After finding nothing there, I tried again when we joined the road from Lucus Augusti to Asturica. I rode my horse up to the cave that the two of us had sheltered in. Here I at least saw evidence of her passing. There was a spit over the fire, used for roasting game, that I didn’t remember seeing before. She must have sheltered here for a least a day, but there was no sign of her now, the ashes of the fire cold. I thought of leaving my escort again and travelling to the village we’d passed through, but decided against it. That could get Viviana into trouble with her tribe, and that was the last thing I wanted to do.
I didn’t know what I wanted to say to the young woman who’d guided me through the mountains. I just knew I wanted to see her again. I didn’t feel like I’d said goodbye to her properly, and that something had remained unsaid between the two of us. But what could I do? I had no choice but to let it go. As her brother had said, I’d not find her unless she wished it. Some things were beyond my control, and an independent spirit like Viviana was one of them.
When we finally marched through the gates of the Roman camp at Asturica, on the eve of the ides of Augustus, several of the Tenth Legion’s legionaries came out to watch us. I rode at the head of my column, and the watching legionaries looked shocked by our bedraggled and worn appearance. The ribald humour that I witnessed the last time we walked into the camp was missing this time. It was clear that the Praetorians had seen action: helmets were dented, shields scarred, the white of their tunics now a muddy grey and covered with brown bloodstains. What’s more, half of them were missing.
I left Marcus to house the men in the barracks as I rode up the Via Principalis to inform the legate we’d returned.
My brother-in-law, Aulus, came out of the headquarters to greet me. ‘By the gods, that’s a horse, Cassius!’ he exclaimed. ‘Where did you find it?’
I dismounted and handed him the reins. ‘It’s yours.’
Aulus looked at me in shock. ‘Cassius, I couldn’t possibly …’
I put my hand on his shoulder. ‘There are thirty-eight legionaries, not to mention Marcus and me, that
owe our lives to you, Aulus. The cavalry commander told me that you ran all the way from where I left you to give warning, through the heat and danger. I think I owe you this horse.’
Aulus bowed his head. ‘It was the least I could do. You’re my family, Cassius. I knew I needed to do everything in my power to help you.’ He looked up at me. ‘You say thirty-eight legionaries? Where are the rest of them?’
I gave a great sigh. ‘I have a lot to tell you, and it isn’t a pleasant story. But first, has Maris returned yet?’
Aulus nodded. ‘He came into the camp two days after me. He was attacked by those bandits again, but he brought all his men home.’
‘That’s something at least.’ I gave a farewell pat to the horse and said, ‘Find someone to stable your horse, then we should talk. I need your advice on the court case tomorrow. I have an idea that I want to run past you.’
Chapter Thirty-five
The main Forum of Asturica, where the court case was to be heard, was lined with my remaining Praetorians. They looked resplendent once again, their armour repaired by the finest of the legion’s smiths and polished to a magnificent sheen. The cavalry horses had come to the Praetorians’ aid once again, their tails coming in handy to replace missing strands of the horsehair plumes on their helmets. The tunics they wore were also once again a brilliant white. Marcus had suggested I have their tunics stitched and cleaned in urine, before being whitened with chalk and lime. But I’d thought they deserved better than that, so I’d had them replaced by the city cloth-makers at my own expense.
I sat on an elevated stool in the centre of the Forum, wearing a toga with a broad purple stripe at its edge. Behind me stood Marcus in bronze breastplate and armour, equally dazzling in the afternoon sun. He was standing in the stead of my lictor, who for obvious reasons was absent. I hoped that the provincial crowd that had gathered around the central square would be ignorant of Rome’s strict protocol regarding lictors, and the lack of one would go unnoticed.
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