by Griff Hosker
“When do you leave?”
“Tomorrow. We can only delay them here it is the Caledonii and the Pictii who must defeat them for they have the numbers of men. My plan for the tribes of Britannia to throw off the yoke failed because the southern tribes were too Roman. There is nothing wilder than our northern brothers. They are my last hope.” Aed nodded. “And you, my love what of your plans?”
“We managed to ambush a patrol today but we did not kill enough troopers. Our men are not disciplined enough. I hope to ambush more tomorrow when they send out a patrol. We are getting warriors all the time and the Romans do not have enough men.”Be wary. The Ordovices had many men and they were slaughtered.”
“Yes but the Romans were led by a fine general. These are just auxiliaries.”
She put her fingers on his lips. “Be wary. This Roman leader has luck with him. I had him in my grasp and he was spirited away. If you get the chance then kill him and kill him quickly. I made a mistake, I delayed and we paid the price.”
Julius felt at a loss as he watched the nine turmae ride away. He glanced around at the fort and it seemed empty, almost deserted. He knew that the prefect was right and he would have endangered his men had he travelled but he was gratified by their calls as they had left.
“Don’t worry sir; we’ll bring a few heads back for you.”
“We’ll teach these bastards a lesson.”
“We’ll pay them back.”
He was surprised that he was held in such affection; when he looked at leaders like Macro, Gaius and Agrippa he could see real heroes, leaders men would look up to and admire. When he thought of himself he felt unworthy. He did not know that his men held him in the same regard as the best decurions in the ala. To them he was the best leader they could have.
Gaelwyn, as usual was riding ahead with the Decurion Princeps and his turma. They were riding swiftly as they were in more open country. Decius pointed at the narrow saddle they would have to cross. “That is where I would ambush.” Gaelwyn nodded. Decius pointed to the slope to their right.”If you could get up there you could see over the saddle and see if there is an ambush.”
“I will go. “ He held up his spear horizontally above his head. “This means an ambush. “He then held it vertically, “This means it is safe.”
Decius halted his men about a mile from the saddle. If he had taken them forward and it had been ambush the first they would have known would have been when they crested the rise and were assaulted. This way was safer. He watched the scout become a faint dot on the hillside. Hade he not watched him constantly he would have been invisible. He went so far that he worried he might lose him. Without turning he shouted, “Arrius, you’ve got young eyes watch Gaelwyn and tell me what he is doing with his spear.”
“Yes sir.”
“He’s stopped and… he’s holding his spear.”
“I know he’s holding his spear you useless excuse for a dog’s dick! Which way?”
“What do you mean?”
Rolling his eyes Decius held his spear first horizontally and then vertically. “Which way?” When the blushing trooper held it horizontally Decius said,” Ambush then. Right Arrius because you did so well there you can ride back to the prefect and tell him there is an ambush and the Decurion Princeps is going to sort it. Got it?”
“Got it sir.”
“Right we are going to close with the saddle and then dismount. I want the archers to split into two groups. We are going to belly up to the top of the saddle. The archers will take out anyone who looks like they might have a missile weapon of any type. The rest of us run in one line, shields together like Caerhun and rush the bastards.”
Grinning the turmae all shouted, “Yes sir!”
“Good, four horse holders. Whose turn is it?” In Decius’ turmae they had a rota for holding the horses; it saved argument and was generally fair. “Three men held up their hands and one said, “And Arrius sir but you sent him…”
“Then whose turn is it next?” The trooper reluctantly put up his hand. “Good. Let’s go.”
Decius hated the technique know as bellying up but it was the only way to get close. He also hated it because he had to remove either his helmet or his red horsehair plume. He chose the former as he could never remount the crest quite as well. As he peered over the top he could see fifty warriors all armed with a variety of weapons but they had no horses. He idly wondered where Gaelwyn had got to and then realised with grim satisfaction that there would probably be some Brigante having his throat sliced right at that moment. He turned and was gratified to see thirty five faces facing him. This was the moment. He raised and dropped his spear. As one man his turma stood. As soon as they did they had a clear view of the enemy who had been surprised having expected the thunder of hooves as a precursor to an attack. As the archers wreaked havoc with their opponents Decius led a wedge of troopers fielding a solid wall of shields and spears. Macro’s training had paid off as had watching the legionaries train. Ten paces from their enemies his men hurled their spears and, without a pause, hit the shocked second line with the weight of shields, armour and bodies muscled by good food. The action was over so quickly that Decius was almost embarrassed. He cursed as he saw a seemingly dead body rise from the ground and race off up the hill. Before he could order and archer to bring him down he saw Gaelwyn rise like a wraith and sliced off the warrior’s head. As he wiped his sword against the dead man’s breeks he nodded to Decius. It was the closest to a compliment Gaelwyn had ever come and Decius was quite touched. His men began searching the bodies for treasure and Decius signalled the horse holders. The prefect had been right, these men were no opposition.
He heard the column before he saw it. The thunder of the hooves vibrated and travelled through the ground. He would have to tell Marcus about that. The ala was telling its enemies when it was coming. On a battlefield that was a good thing for it inspired fear. In this land where there were many places to hide it was not.
Fainch kissed Aed goodbye. Modius stood in the corner like a sulky boy who has had his nose put of out of joint by a pretty sister. He turned in disgust. The sooner the priestess left the better. “Be careful my love. These Romans are dangerous. Delay them but do not put your life at risk.”
Aed looked down at the diminutive love of his life. He was touched that she would think so much of him. “Do not worry. My men will delay them at the pass and then we will withdraw through the hills to the north and slip over the Taus to the land of the Novontae, I have friends there. Already my treasure is heading north. “
“We will meet at the court of King Calgathus.” With a long, passionate kiss they parted and Fainch the witch slipped north to continue her war against the Romans
“You have done well Decurion Princeps. These were obviously the advance guards intended to slow us down and then warn their lord. We will push on. “Gaius, take Gaelwyn and find their stronghold.”
Gaius galloped off with his strong turma. He was confident he could deal with any enemies he met. Gaelwyn inspired confidence. He would find their enemies and then the Pannonians would strike.
Decius explained to Marcus the problem with the cavalry and how he had defeated the guards. “So Decurion Princeps your views have changed since you questioned the general at the foot of Wyddfa?”
“No I am just saying that here, in this desolate land perhaps we might want to change the way we work. Gaius managed to kill plenty on foot and I did, you might be right sir here. But mark my words when they need the cavalry we will do what we do best, ride and charge!”
“You are right Decius. You are right. If Agricola has taught me one thing it is learn to adapt or die.”
Gaelwyn stayed close to Gaius as they cautiously trotted up the steep sided wooded valley. They had avoided one ambush and neither scout nor Decurion wanted to stumble into another one. As they approached a narrow neck of land between steep outcrops Gaius halted the turma and gestured Gaelwyn forward. The turma sensed they were nearing their obje
ctive and the veterans began checking that their swords slid easily from their scabbards and that the horse furniture was tight. The newer troopers aped their more experienced comrades. Gaelwyn approached a moment later then signalled them on. Once they crested the rise the land began to flatten out and they could see smoke in the distance.
“Gaelwyn go up the rise and tell me what you can see.” The scout trotted his horse as far up the slope as he could safely manage and then dismounted tying the beast to a lone hawthorn tree standing defiantly against the relentless winds which whipped over these northern hills. Gaius watched him scurry up the hillside, occasionally turning to find an easier route. Some way from the top he slid on to his stomach and began to slither along. After a few moments he turned and, pointing to Gaius beckoned him up.
“Right lads I won’t be long. Fabius take charge.” Tying his horse to the hawthorn tree and resting his spear and scutum on the ground Gaius followed the same route as Gaelwyn. Having seen him he found it easier but he was still breathing heavily. Gaelwyn tapped the top of his own head and Gaius suddenly remembered his helmet which he removed before the horsehair crest could give them away.
When he arrived next to the scout he beheld a huge lake with an untidy camp of warriors spread out along its northern and western edges. There was a small settlement a short way from the lake which appeared to be unfortified. The position and size of the camp had been determined by the terrain for there was a steep hill to the south. The ridge they were lying on was even steeper with a dizzying drop down to the water side. Gaelwyn pointed out all the important features and Gaius soon ascertained that the only approach to the camp was from the east. Had his men turned west then they would have been seen for there were sentries posted across the plain before the town. The decurion was just grateful that they had not posted sentries at the top of the ridge he occupied. Had they done so then there would have been no chance for surprise.
“It will have to be an early morning attack sir or a night attack. They could hear us and see us long before we reached their camp and they could escape easily. Gaelwyn hasn’t been there but when we descended from the ridge we could see many valleys heading south and west. They would be like rats leaving their hole; they could take twenty or thirty different escape routes.”
“Thank you Gaius.” The prefect stroked his chin thoughtfully. He had much to mull over. He shaded his eyes with his hand and looked up at the sun. They would have another two hours of daylight. If they were going to attack tonight he would have to give the order quickly. He suddenly had the image of Agricola charging up the hill at the head of his legion. The general would not hesitate. If they waited until the morning his quarry might flee. They would either reinforce the ambush site they had destroyed or wonder why they had not returned at dark. “Right we attack tonight. Gaius you take the lead, you know the way. Take out the sentries, silently. As soon as they are eliminated we will charge. Are they spread all around the lake?”
Gaius drew the crude shape of the lake in the soil and marked the position of the barbarians. “The land next to the lake looks to be marshy. They are camped about forty paces from it. If we keep the lake fifty paces to our left then we should sweep them away.”
“Good. Decurion Princeps you take the left. Agrippa take the right. I will be in the centre. These bandits are the last remnants of the Brigante rebels when these are destroyed then we may have peace. Let us ensure therefore that we destroy them, completely.”
Chapter 8
Aed and Modius had just finished their inspection of the camp. With men arriving each day and others deserting it was important for the two leaders to know who was in their camp. Every new arrival was inspected and interrogated to make sure he was not a Roman spy. Modius had a nose for Roman deserters. Although they had not discovered spies he had found Roman soldiers who had fled their units because of some disciplinary indiscretion. The cruel Modius always got the truth and it inspired just a little more honesty from all. Their inspection also enabled them to see if any of their warriors was hording treasure. Aed made sure they were well rewarded for their banditry but as leader he took the bulk of their loot. They were in the middle of the camp when they heard the alarm. At first they assumed it was some squabble between clans, a fairly common occurrence but then Modius heard the distinctive call of the buccina. “Romans! To arms! Romans!”
The two leaders had been leading their mounts but now they sprang on to their backs. Modius cursed. The auxiliary were attacking from the east and his men were silhouetted against the setting sun whilst the Romans were all but invisible. The men in the camp were panicking and Aed had to slap them with the flat of his sword to make them stand. “Turn and fight. These are cavalry. If you flee you will not escape you will be hunted down. Stand!” Aed turned to Modius, “You take the right and I will take the left. We outnumber them still.” Aed’s voice betrayed his uncertainty.
“Yes but they have the surprise.”
The camp was a chaotic scene but the sheer numbers in the camp had slowed up the attack. The horses had lost impetus as they ground to a halt on the dead bodies of those killed in the first charge. Pockets of warriors gathered around their chiefs and heeded Aed’s words. They formed shield walls and threw their javelins at the Romans who circled them like starving wolves. The sudden appearance of Modius on their right flank heartened them and the shield walls coalesced into a slightly more solid line. Decius could see the organisation and he shouted his voice strident above the din of war. “Turma five reform.”
His men were trained so well that they performed the manoeuvre as though in the gyrus. Once they were in a line Decius just pointed his sword at the enemy. The mailed and armoured auxiliaries swept through the warriors who still fought isolated combats with great courage but no support from other warriors. The auxiliaries were relentless and in the rhythm of killing striking down almost in unison. The barbarians had no answer and they fell to sword, spear and horse’s hooves.
Suddenly Decius caught a glimpse of Modius trying to rally his fleeing troops. Decius’ face was a mask of hatred and anger. Spurring his mount he charged at the traitorous auxiliary. As he screamed, “Modius you bastard!” the rebel turned, shocked at the use of his name. He tried to wheel his horse around to face the Decurion but the press of bodies around him was too great and he only managed to half turn around. Decius’ horse struck him as he was turning and he tumbled to the ground. Decius’ mount cleared the jumble of arms and legs enabling the Decurion Princeps to hurl his javelin at the writhing body of Modius. Although it failed to hit him the deserter had to turn away from the blow making him disorientated. Decius swung his horse around and leaned down to strike his long sword at Modius’ body. The edge nicked Modius’ arm and opened a slit the length of a man’s hand. Blood began to pour from the wound and he had no option but to drop his shield from his now useless arm. Roaring in anger Modius swung his sword in a backslash which luckily for the rebel caught Decius’ horse. As the horse’s head reared up Decius felt himself slipping off and he went with the action landing nimbly on his feet. Modius was a bigger, heavier man and he rushed at Decius with his sword held in two hands. The blade crashed down and had he not had quick reactions it would have split his helmet and his skull. The Decurion Princeps fended the blow off with his scutum and stabbed upwards the edge ripping through the edge of the body armour. They both stepped back breathing heavily. The warriors and troopers surrounding them were all engaged in their own private battles and it was as though the two were in a world of their own. Modius looked down at the blood seeping from his arm and he felt with his fingers to see what damage had been done to his armour; the blade had weakened it and Modius knew he would have to finish the fight quickly. He quickly twisted and turned his blade as he struck Decius repeatedly on his left and his right. The blows were two handed and were coming too frequently for Decius to do anything other than defend with his shield. Modius was becoming weaker and Decius waited his moment. One double handed slash went t
oo high; Decius ducked beneath the blow and thrust his spatha into the unprotected neck of the ex-decurion. As the life left his eyes he looked down in surprise to see the blade protruding from his throat. Decius withdrew it swiftly in one fluid movement. He was covered in the flood of arterial blood as Modius’ life gushed from his throat.
His men had already been weakening but the sudden defeat of a warrior they feared took the heart out of them and they began to drop their weapons. Despite the prefect’s instructions about prisoners, the beleaguered troopers were almost too exhausted to carry on with the slaughter. Many of the barbarians fled across the boggy and marshy ground close by the lake. When the Romans failed to pursue others joined in and soon there were forty or fifty men splashing across the darkened lake.
Over on the far side of the battlefield there was almost as much confusion. The only way Marcus and his decurions knew who enemies were and who were friends was by the fact that their friends were mounted. Aed and his bandits had not fought a serious enemy since the battle of the Taus but the Pannonians were a finely honed and well trained machine. The end was inevitable but Aed continued to fight. His bodyguards were whittled down as sheaves of corn at harvest time. Realising that all was lost he stabbed at a trooper with his spear and, as the trooper defended with a shield he turned his horse and ruthlessly rode down those of his men who stood in his way. He heard a voice cry, “After him!” He did not make the mistake of turning and showing a white face in the dark night instead he put his face as close the mane as he could and galloped over the dead and dying remnants of his erstwhile rebel army. All was lost here and Aed would ride to the Taus and join Fainch. The battle had been lost but not the war.