by K. M. Ashman
‘In another life, friend,’ said Taran. ‘Besides, he would not provide much contest and is not worth drawing your blade.’
‘Our clan opposes the Augustan Legion in the Khymru,’ said Prydain to the guard. ‘Be comforted that many Romans lose sleep in fear that they feel Silurian steel in the night.’
‘Meaningless words,’ spat the Guard. ‘State your business.’
‘I seek audience with Boudicca,’ said Prydain.
The man laughed out loud.
‘You and ten thousand others,’ he said. ‘Be gone and stop wasting my time.’
‘My business is of great importance,’ said Prydain.
‘Then share it,’ said the guard, ‘and I will see it reaches her.’
‘It is for only her ears only,’ said Prydain.
The man lifted his spear to rest against Prydain’s throat and once more Taran had to restrain Gildas from leaping forward.
‘Listen, friend,’ said the guard. ‘You come in darkness and speak in an accent strange to me demanding audience with the Queen. As far as I know you could be an assassin sent from Nero himself. Now, I am very tempted to kill you and your comrades right here for wasting my time but I have fed well and am in a good mood. So what I suggest is this, either you tell me your message or you return from whence you came. Choose quickly or I’ll stick you like a pig right now.’
For a few moments there was a standoff until finally Prydain spoke again.
‘You are right,’ he said, ‘the circumstances are indeed suspicious. We will withdraw and make suitable representation in the light. I apologise for wasting your time.’
The man grunted and lowered his spear.
‘Go,’ he said, ‘before I change my mind and don’t think of using a different route. I will pass the word and if you are seen again this night, there will be no questions asked. You will die on the spot.’
‘Thank you,’ said Prydain and took a step backward before walking away, closely followed by his comrades.
‘You should have let me kill him,’ said Gildas.
‘To what end?’ asked Prydain as he walked. ‘There are another fifty thousand in that camp and even you would struggle with those numbers, Gildas. Besides, we have no quarrel with Boudicca.’
‘So what do we do now?’ asked Heulwen.
‘We find a place to sleep,’ said Prydain, ‘and try again in the morning.’
----
Suetonius stood at the entrance to the long valley. On either side were steep slopes heavily wooded and tangled with undergrowth while underfoot the ground was treacherous and broken. To his front the valley continued for about a mile, sloping gently downhill before flattening out between the flanking hills. To the far end the ground started to rise again before meeting another steeply wooded slope, again impenetrable to any large bodies of men. It was a dead end and the only way out or into the valley was back the way they came.
‘Sire, there is no way forward,’ said Tribune Attellus. ‘Do you want me to turn the Legions around?’
‘On the contrary, Attellus,’ said Suetonius, ‘here lies the only way forward. Advance the Legions to the far end of the valley and go firm there. This is where we make our stand, Attellus, there is where history will be made.’
The cornicines gave the signal to advance and Legate Petillius joined Governor Suetonius to one side as the two Legions marched past.
‘Petillius,’ said Suetonius, ‘I want you to set up the Onagers on the edge of the far wood line. Use the archers on either flank but set them back amongst the trees. The rest of the men will form up in line abreast. The Gemina will form the front lines while the Victrix will provide the reserve. Get the men as far up the slope as they can while maintaining a sure foothold, I want any attackers to be out of breath when they reach our lines.’
‘Yes, Sire,’ said Petillius and rode off.
As he rode away, Cassus approached and reigned in his horse alongside the Governor.
‘So, Cassus,’ said Suetonius. ‘Does this suit?’
Cassus looked around the valley.
‘It does,’ he said. ‘The scouts have done well.’
‘I am informed that Boudicca has taken the bait,’ said Suetonius, ‘and will be here by the dawn.’
‘Then we must make haste,’ said Cassus, ‘and prepare the men. They have time to eat and sharpen their swords. Boudicca will not attack in the dark but I want every man alert and in position before the sun rises.’
‘And what of you, Cassus? How do you see your role in this?’
‘Sire?’
‘I would prefer you by my side, Cassus but know you still smart from the attack on Mona.’
‘There is only one place that I need be and that is amongst my men in the front line,’ said Cassus.’
‘I thought you would say that,’ sighed Suetonnius. ‘So be it, Cassus. The first Cohort will provide the centre of the line. This is a task no other has taken before you and I need you to show those behind the meaning of discipline. The outcome of today will lie on the shoulders of your men. Do they have the strength to carry such a weight?’
‘They do, Sire,’ said Cassus, ‘as do I.’
----
All through the night, Boudicca’s army marched across the open vale toward Wolf’s Pass until finally the Queen stood on her chariot at the entrance to the valley, watching the sun’s rays creep slowly across the valley floor.
‘Where are they?’ asked Rianna
‘They are there,’ said Boudicca. ‘Andraste will reveal them soon enough.’
Suddenly a glint in the distance caught their eye and slowly the sun’s reflections on the Roman armour revealed the enemy position.
‘The scouts were right,’ said Boudicca, ‘and Suetonnius is trapped. He has nowhere to go.’
‘They have formed defensive lines,’ said Rianna.
‘Of course they have,’ said Boudicca. ‘What else could he do? He knows he is trapped and has no option but to defend himself. But it will be in vain, Rianna, we outnumber him twenty fold and he has nowhere to run.’ She looked back the way they had come to witness the rest of her army stretched out far to the rear. Beyond them lay the countless wagons bearing their families and the supplies for the frontline warriors.
‘It seems as if the whole of Britannia wants to witness this day,’ said Boudicca, ‘our people cover the plains like corn.’
‘It is a momentous day,’ said Rianna, ‘for when these two Legions fall, there will only be the Augusta left and they will waste no time leaving our shores or suffer the same fate.’
‘Boudicca,’ shouted Maccus, ‘my men are impatient to bloody their swords. How long do we wait?’
‘Advance them into the valley, Maccus,’ said Boudicca, ‘but stay out of range of their catapults. It will be a while before all our people arrive and I want them here to witness our victory.’
‘And if the Romans attack?’
‘They won’t attack,’ said Boudicca. ‘Suetonnius is no fool and his only hope is in defence. Tell the men to be patient and I promise before the sun is at its highest they will blood their blades.’
Maccus gave the order and the front lines of the Barbarian army descended into the valley, making their way toward the silent Roman lines.
---
‘Prydain wake up,’ shouted Heulwen, ‘it seems like the whole world is on the move.’
Prydain discarded the blanket and jumped to his feet.
‘What’s happening?’ he asked.
‘Boudicca advanced in the night and faces Suetonius across a battle field,’ said Heulwen. ‘Her people move at haste to witness the battle. Come on, there is little time to lose.’
The five comrades saddled their horses before riding out and joining the seemingly endless migration of people across the grassy plains. The going was good at first but as they caught up with the main body of people and carts, their pace slowed to a walk.
‘It’s no good,’ said Prydain, ‘we have to leave the horses. It
will be quicker on foot.’ He looked around the masses of people before spying a family whose cart had lost a wheel. ‘Over there,’ he said, ‘follow me.’ They rode up to the cart and dismounted. A woman stood alongside three young children, their faces dejected at their predicament.
‘I see you are having difficulty,’ said Prydain.
‘The wheel has snapped,’ said the woman in frustration, ‘and my man fights alongside Boudicca. The cart contains all we own and I cannot leave it unattended. I fear we will not be there to share his glory.’
‘There is another glory to be earned,’ said Prydain, ‘should you wish to offer aid.’
‘What aid do you seek?’ asked the woman.
‘We have to get to the battlefield,’ said Prydain, ‘yet cannot risk our horses. If you look after them for us until we return I will ensure you have enough wealth for ten such carts.’
‘How?’ said the woman, ‘the only plunder from the enemy this day will be their heads and armour.’
‘We have no intention of fighting,’ said Prydain, ‘and we have our own gold.’ He pulled out the purse and poured the contents into his hand.
‘There are ten coins here,’ he said. ‘One is yours now as a sign of my trust. The rest are yours upon our return.’
The woman’s eyes widened in shock and she took the offered coin carefully before looking up at Prydain.
‘You race toward the battle yet proclaim against fighting,’ she said. ‘What foolishness is this?’
‘We look to return a runaway boy to his people,’ said Heulwen. ‘Nothing more.’
‘Your offer is indeed generous,’ said the woman, ‘but what if you do not return?’
‘Then you will have five fine horses to sell,’ said Heulwen. ‘All we ask is you wait until dark and if we are not back by then, you are free to leave with the coin and the horses. Will you do this?’
The woman stared for a while before nodding.
‘I will wait until dark,’ she said, ‘but no longer. The night is a dangerous time, especially when men are dying all around.’
‘I understand,’ said Prydain. He tied the reins of his horse to the immobilized cart before calling his comrades. ‘Leave the horses here,’ he said. ‘We will pick them up later.’
‘What is your name?’ he asked the woman.
‘Lora,’ said the woman, ‘and I hope you are successful in your quest.’
‘So do I, Lora,’ said Prydain, ‘so do I.’
The woman sent her children into the safety of the cart before watching Prydain and his comrades run into the surging crowd heading toward the battle.
----
Taliesin, Finian and Lannosea crested the lip of the valley and stared at the sight before them. At the far end they could see the scarlet lines of the Roman ranks squashed between two steep hills, their armour glittering in the morning sun.
In the centre of the valley, thousands of Britannic warriors faced them across the open slopes, screaming their insults and banging their weapons against their shields. Lone warriors took the opportunity to run from the stationary ranks to taunt the Romans before returning to their comrades and continuing the tirade. Behind the front ranks of warriors thousands more people added their voices to the challenge, while on the slopes leading into the valley, countless carts and vied for the best positions to witness the slaughter.
‘Never have I seen such an army,’ said Finian in awe, ‘their numbers are like sand upon a shore and the Romans are but a red stain before them.’
‘The Roman’s fate is surely sealed,’ said Taliesin. ‘Not even a horse fly could escape this valley. The day is already ours.’
‘Their leader must be stupid,’ laughed Finian. ‘In the open they had a chance to escape but in this place they are as wine within a jug.’
‘And these people are the stopper,’ laughed Taliesin, shouting above the din of the hoard around them.
‘Look,’ shouted Lannosea, ‘there’s my mother.’
All eyes stared forward and they could see the black chariot being ridden wildly across the front lines of warriors, closely followed by riders bearing the banners of the clans preparing to do battle.
‘Come on,’ said Lannosea, ‘let’s go.’
‘Wait,’ said Taliesin. ‘Where are you going?’
‘To join her of course,’ said Lannosea. ‘I have wronged her and she needs to know I admit my mistake. My burden was not inflicted by her but by those about to die by her hand. My place is with my mother.’
‘But you are injured,’ said Taliesin. ‘What aid can you offer?’
‘My support, my heart and my love,’ said Lannosea. ‘They alone will be worth a thousand arrows to my mother.’
Before Taliesin could argue further, Lannosea ran down the slope, intent on joining the battle.
‘Well, what are you waiting for?’ asked Finian. ‘Isn’t this why you came?’
Taliesin grinned and drew the Gladius they had taken from the dead roman days earlier.
‘It is,’ he said, ‘and whether I live or die this day, let it be said that Taliesin was present on the day Boudicca freed Britannia from Roman Tyranny’
Both men stepped forward and followed the girl down the slopes, their heads full of victory and hearts full of valour, each a tiny part of an army greater than any ever before seen in Britannia.
----
Chapter Twenty Five
The Valley of the Wolf
‘Report,’ ordered Suetonnius.
‘Sire, the artillery are well dug in to the rear,’ answered a Tribune. ‘We have several hundred rocks and double that number of fire pots.’
‘What about the flanks?’
‘Two cohorts of auxiliary infantry deployed across the slopes and amongst the trees. If they try to outflank us our men have been ordered to hold the ground at all costs. They will gain no advantage that way.’
‘And the rear?’
‘Covered by our reserve,’ said the Tribune. ‘Petillius commands the high slopes, and beyond, the forests are too dense for any surprise attack. No, the only way they pose any threat is head on.’
Suetonnius stared across the valley. The enemy seemed to be rolling down the opposite slopes like a thick black liquid, expanding to fill every piece of open ground. Already they had reached over halfway and still they came. The front lines had halted less than a thousand paces before the silent Roman formations screaming their insults across the broken ground that would soon echo with cries of a different sort.
‘Primus Pilus, what is the mettle of our men?’ asked Suetonnius.
‘Quiet,’ said Centurion Cassus. ‘Their eyes are filled with superior numbers and they are in danger of putting quantity above quality.’
‘I agree,’ said Suetonnius. ‘This is where we earn our rations, Centurion. Mount your horse for it is time to join our men.’ He turned to Tribune Attellus.
‘Attellus, should I fall, you will assume command.’
‘Sire, surely you are not going down there. Your place is here to oversee and command as necessary. One sword arm won’t affect the outcome.’
‘Normally you would be right,’ said Suetonnius, ‘but not this day. Today the men are outnumbered twenty to one by a barbarian army such has never been seen. Today they need their commanding officer amongst them. I am the direct representative of Nero on these islands and our continued dominance revolves around this one battle. I have been awarded the title Governor of these islands and today, Attellus, I will earn that honour.’
Attellus silently saluted his general.
The Governor turned to the rest of the officers gathered around him.
‘You have all been briefed,’ he said ‘and know what to do. You are the best Rome has to offer and should we all die this day, then I expect the last man standing to be holding our Eagle as he meets his gods. This is it, gentlemen, the greatest battle you are ever likely to face. In the name of your gods, your Emperor and your legion, I General Gaius Suetonius Paullinus, Legatus of the
Fourteenth Gemina Martia Victrix, and Governor of Rome’s Britannic islands salute you.’ He paused as he looked around the gathered officers, each a man he would entrust with his very life. Finally he spoke again, ‘Gentlemen,’ he said,’ it has been an honour.’ He extended his arm in the Legionary salute and in return every man in earshot returned the tribute, shouting out his name in respect.
‘Cassus,’ said Suetonnius over the noise, ‘lead the way. Our men await.’
The two men rode between the massed ranks and down to their forward lines. As they did, they were followed by the shouts of cheering men as the army realised their general was going to lead from the front.
----
Across the valley, Boudicca watched as the unmistakeable figure of the Roman General rode across the front of his pathetic army. The Romans were formed up in straight ranks across the valley floor from slope to slope but were no more than twenty deep. Behind them she could see squares of reserves on the higher slopes and beyond them rows of Ballistae and the tell-tale plumes of smoke that meant they had the liquid fire which would be used against her own warriors. It was a fearsome weapon but she knew it could only be used at distance and though many of her warriors may fall to its fiery embrace, the numbers would be slight compared to her overall strength.
Boudicca stood on her chariot, one of many spread out across the valley before the main body of men.
‘This is it, Rianna,’ said Boudicca. ‘The day we pay back Rome for every life taken, every Briton enslaved and every temple burned.’
‘My heart races like Andraste’s hare,’ said Rianna, ‘and my arm aches to wield steel.’
‘Before this day is out, the gods will be sated with enough blood for a thousand lifetimes,’ said Boudicca, ‘and I will gain revenge for my people and my daughters.’ She looked across at the next chariot. Heanua glanced back, feeling her mother’s eyes upon her. Heanua’s face was rigid with determination and her leather armour was proudly emblazoned with the emblem of the Iceni. Boudicca nodded gently, offering encouragement.
‘This day will be sung about by the bards for evermore,’ said Rianna, her hair blowing in the breeze, ‘and your name will be immortalised alongside Andraste.’