by Griff Hosker
That evening the Prefect called together his officers. “We leave the day after tomorrow. I want us to begin our organisation for the journey.” He looked around at his officers. He had an idea now of their strengths and weaknesses. He was still unhappy about Aulus Murgus but he had to admit that while he was totally unpleasant he was efficient. The rest were as Spurius had described. “The language is no longer such a barrier. You all know enough Pannonian to communicate and I want you to teach them more of our words. When we join the army they will need to answer to other officers.”
Aulus snorted. “We need to discipline them more sir. Cut their hair and beards. Make them look like Romans.”
Proculus sighed, “At the moment Decurion they are not in the Roman army. They are mercenaries which is why your enlistment with them is for one year.” He leaned forwards. “It may well be that they do become an auxiliary ala but that will depend upon their performance in battle and that, gentlemen, depends on us. I daresay we will lose a couple on the way over to the Rhenus but we cannot afford to lose too many. We will be receiving arms at Vindonissa, which is the legionary fortress not far from the Rhenus. Until then we work with what we have. I hope the Tribune makes it back before we leave but we leave the day after tomorrow no matter what happens.”
“Sir?”
“Yes Publius?”
“How will the new men be allocated? They will not have our language and they won’t know the orders.”
Smiling at the fussy but organised Decurion Marius said, “That is a valid point. We will divide them equally between the turmae and … well that brings me rather well to my next point. You will need to appoint a chosen man. You know your lads well enough by now. You need someone who can organise the men and they can be the ones who break in the new men. They should be able to speak our language better than most.” Flavius smiled, he had at least six he could choose. “And now we have some assignments for you. I have secured your extra pay to the rank of Decurion.” They all grinned; even Aulus for it had almost trebled their pay. “However you will all need to earn the extra money. Flavius you will be the second in command, you speak their language and it is logical and you can also take charge of weapon training, I hear you are good with a sword. Publius, you can take over quartermaster duties and paymaster.” Everyone, Publius apart, smiled at that. He loved his lists and he would enjoy the organisation of their supplies. “Quintus, Camp Commander and food. Numerius you can train up the scouts and watch the road as we travel and Aulus you can organise the sentries and discipline.” Of all the tasks he had delegated the last one was the one he had the most doubts about.
“And the standard?”
“I had almost forgotten about that. Perhaps the Horse? I will see if the blacksmith at the fort can knock us one up. It might only be needed for one year anyway. You will all need a signifier, without pay of course, with the standard for each turma. And remember this first year is for us to find out what the men are like so that, when you return here, to the Ninth Hispana you will leave behind an ala with Decurion who can command. That will be your legacy.”
The only one who did not look convinced by the speech was Aulus who slumped off. Publius saluted, “Sir, can I start to organise the books. We will need to know the pay scales of the men.”
“Of course Publius, whatever you need.” He leaned over confidentially, “I hate paperwork.” The shocked look from Publius almost made Marius burst out laughing.
Flavius gathered the turma around him. he had already endeared himself to his men because he could speak their language. “You have all done very well in the short time we have worked together. It is time to reward some of you. Cava will be my chosen man and will have the rank of sesquiplicarius.” They all looked blankly at him. “Second in command, corporal.” Cava was liked but most but Wolf still felt slightly resentful, he had wanted to be a leader. “And we need a standard bearer; someone who can guard and carry the emblem of out turma, a rallying point in battle. Wolf, that will be you.” Wolf thought he would burst with pride as his friends clapped him on the back and most of the warriors seemed happy.
Cava smiled for he liked the youth and agreed with the Decurion; he would make a good standard bearer. “Sir, what is our standard to be?”
Flavius smiled, he had been thinking about this. “Well it seems appropriate to have the sign of the Wolf for our turma eh?”
Wolf leapt to his feet. “Sir where do we get the standard?”
“Oh that is simple signifier, you make it!”
If he thought that would have disheartened the young Pannonian he was wrong. Wolf was useless with his hands but he knew that Gerjen was a wonderful carver. “Sir, can I have permission to take Gerjen and find some wood?”
Flavius looked at the sky; it was coming on to dark. “Be back before nightfall.”
Because Wolf was particular they almost fell foul of the wrath of Aulus Murgus as they galloped back into camp just before the gate was closed. The bad tempered Roman stood with his hands on his hips. “And where the fuck do you think you have been?”
Wolf held up the pieces of wood triumphantly. “The Decurion sent us to find wood for the new Turma standard Decurion.”
“Well next time tell me before you leave the camp.”
They both chorused, “Sir, yes sir!”
While Gerjen carved the wolf out of the piece of walnut he had found, Darvas was given the task of smoothing the ash staff which would hold it. “We need some metal to bind it.”
Cava smiled at the enthusiastic young warrior. “When we are journeying we will seek a smith.” He pointed at the armour of the Decurion. “They must have many men who can make metal.”
Wolf’s own contribution was to cut some of the horsetail from each horse in the Turma. Cava realised then that this Wolf was a deep thinker for by binding the hair to the standard it was binding the men together. It spoke well of his mind and his character. It was dark by the time it was finished but the wolf sat on top of the standard, its teeth bared, beneath if hung the horse tail which would flutter as they rode. Most of the turma had watched as it grew from the different parts and when it was lofted by Wolf they gave a cheer. Immediately they heard the voice of the Ala Police, “Shut the fuck up or you’ll be shovelling shit for a week!”
Flavius came out of his ten. “I think we had better retire to bed before Decurion Murgus comes to tuck us all in!”
Chapter 3
Wolf kept looking at the standard as they prepared their horses for their last training before departure. He couldn’t wait to ride behind the Decurion and the chosen man with his standard fluttering in the wind. He pictured himself defending it against the enemy. The Decurion had told them the story of the legions that had been annihilated in the Teutonberger Forest and how the standard bearer had thrown the standard of the legion to safety before dying at the hands of the barbarians. That, he decided, would be a glorious way to die.
The sound of jangling armour heralded the arrival of the tribune and the last of the recruits. There were just one hundred of them. Gnaeus stepped down as Decurion Ocella led the recruits to Flavius for distribution. The Tribune drew the Prefect to one side. “I could not get more, not in the time anyway. We will have another sweep next month but I should warn you some of these are not to be trusted.”
“What do you mean? Did anything happen to make you alarmed?”
“No, it is just an itch I can’t scratch and Spurius was equally disturbed. There wasn’t the same buzz as we rode here. One or two seemed happy enough but some of them have a very furtive look about them.”
“Thank you for your advice Gnaeus but beggars cannot be choosers. The Legate is expecting an ala and even now I am not taking him a full strength one.”
“Just watch yourself. How are the troopers working out?” Marius gave him a brief account of their appointments. “Good, and as for Aulus, just send him back if there is a problem I am sure we can find another trooper to take his place. Tell me, how did you manage to
get Decurion pay for them? Not that it wouldn’t have pleased them I am sure.”
“Simple accounting. The Imperial clerks decreed that for six hundred men we would need twenty officers and there is pay for twenty officers. When we are fully staffed we will have a problem but the chosen men are not being paid any more at the moment. I am not sure they understand the concept of pay.”
“And Publius is your paymaster? Well good luck with his stiff neck. We will try to catch those deserters and I will send on the new recruits when we get them. Any idea where you will be based?”
“Tungri or Castra Vetera. It depends upon the Legate.”
Gnaeus took the Prefect’s arm. “Well may Mithras watch over you. I think you will need all the help you can get.”
“And thank you Gnaeus. You have helped me more than you needed to.”
“Let us just say that my family almost fell foul of Caligula…”
Neither Cava nor Flavius were happy at the allocation of the new men. Some of them did not appear to have embraced the Roman army as an opportunity. One in particular, Sura, made Cava suspicious. He wondered if he was judging him on his looks, for he had a long scar down one cheek which gave him an evil look to start with but there was something else which he could not put his finger on. Neither officer nor chosen man had the chance to do anything about it for the prefect was keen for them to head west and join the army. Wolf was excited beyond words as he sat proudly behind the Decurion, next to Cava, with the standard in his hand. He had seen the other standards and they were crude by comparison with the excellent handiwork of Gerjen. The Prefect had not brought out the ala standard yet as he had neither standard bearer nor reason to use it but he was pleased that his auxiliaries had taken to the idea so readily. He smiled when he saw Wolf holding a wolf. He was a warrior to watch and for all the right reasons. He had warned his officers about the new men and Aulus had growled, “I’ll smell out the bad ’uns sir. They won’t want to cross me twice!” Marius wondered if he had misjudged the sour looking trooper.
The mountains which were a thin grey line in the distance grew day by day as they trekked west. Prefect Proculus ensured that they changed horses each day to maximise the distance they could travel. They learned to build a camp quickly, especially as the new recruits soon learned that the sooner the camp was erected the sooner they would be fed. Wolf enjoyed travelling at the head of the turma and he found that he could speak the Roman language quicker than the others. Cava already had a good knowledge of the words he would need and Wolf listened to their conversations and he improved as quickly as Cava. It enabled him to understand the Roman officers when they spoke with each other and it made him understand their motives and their actions. They were not so different from him; they too had volunteered to get away from some farm, or some town or some father. He discovered that they signed on for twenty five years and had taken an oath. As none of his comrades had done that he wondered how they were different. He would happily take an oath and sign on for twenty five years. He had seen nothing in this army that he didn’t like. It was as though he had found his destiny, just when things were at their darkest.
They followed the course of the Danubius and camped as close to any forts they found as they could. It meant they were safer and the Prefect was able to pick up snippets of information about their route and any dangers they might encounter. The Pannonians were not used to mountains as high these nor valleys that were quite so deep. The metalled roads wound close to the river and their hooves echoed on the mountainside. Wolf could not help asking a question, “Decurion, who built these roads?”
“Romans of course, Wolf, soldiers like us.”
“Do we have to build roads?”
“No Wolf the legions do that. My Legion, the Ninth Hispana, built some of the roads in your land and they will build more.” He pointed south, to their left. “Behind those mountains is a pass which takes you to Rome. Had this been winter we would have travelled through the northern part of that land but the journey would have been much longer. This is harder but quicker.”
“Good for the quicker we are there the quicker I can collect heads.”
“We do not collect heads Wolf.”
“Then how do your friends know you are a great warrior?”
In answer Flavius turned in his saddle and pointed to a shiny metal disc. “This is a phalerae. It is an honour given to me by my general for bravery.”
“Ah like a battle armband.”
“Just so.”
“But who decides if you get one?”
“Any superior officer who sees you doing something brave or heroic or something which helps the ala.” He nodded to Cava, “The chosen man here could tell me if, say Darvas, did something brave.”
Wolf sniffed, “If Darvas could get a pha-le-ra then it must be easy and I will have armour covered with them. I will armour of pha-le-ra!”
Flavius laughed, “They are not that easy and you do not know what your comrades are capable of until they are in battle. You do not know yet Wolf.”
“I have killed Marcomanni!”
“A raid? Ambush?” Wolf nodded. “It is harder to be brave when you face many enemies who are trying to kill you, especially when you have to stand there and take it.”
“Why not run and then attack again?”
“Because sometimes it is important to stand and to die. That is one way we measure bravery. When you have to defend the standard you will have a choice, use a shield or a sword, but you cannot use both and hold the standard. Have you thought how you will do that?”
“No I have not Decurion. You have given me much to think on.” Horse smiled at the serious expression on Wolf’s face as he pondered the problem.
When they reached the auxiliary fort at Teurnia the Camp Prefect rode out with the Cohort Prefect. He drew Marius to one side. “We need your help Prefect.” He pointed north. “Yesterday a convoy of grain wagons was captured by some Marcomanni bandits. I sent half a cohort after them but they were badly mauled. They are holed up in an old oppidum ten miles up the valley.”
The Prefect pointed at the Pannonians. “These are recruits. They are not even trained yet. It is impossible for them to attack a hill fort.”
The Spanish Prefect smiled, “We would not dream of asking you to assault the hill. That is the job of my men but the Marcomanni have horses and when we attacked yesterday they used their horses to escape to the oppidum. If you place your men to the north of the oppidum then you will close the door on their avenue of escape. You will only need two hundred men.”
Marius was not convinced but the Prefect suddenly became serious. “If it is easier then I can give you a written order.”
“In that case we will but I will need one of your men as liaison.”
“I will send one to you and he will give you your written orders and your instructions.”
Flavius watched the Prefect returning and saw the disturbed look on his face, even from forty paces away. “Problem sir?”
“It looks like we may have to put some of the men into action sooner rather than later. Decurion Murgus! Decurion Vatia!” The two officers galloped up. “Decurion Vatia, take charge of the ala. Make a camp this side of the fort. Decurion Murgus, Bellatoris, have your men give their spare equipment to the other turmae. We are going to fight the Marcomanni.”
“But sir, the men are only half trained and we haven’t see them fight.”
“I know Aulus but we have been given orders.” He pointed up the valley. “There is an oppidum there with Marcomanni in it. The Spanish cohort will attack the hill and our job is to stop them escaping with the grain wagons.”
The two officers both knew the impossibility of their task but both had been in the army long enough to know that orders were followed no matter how ridiculous. The liaison officer galloped up. “Here are your orders, sir.” Proculus inclined his head. “Oh you are to take your men along the road and station them eight hundred paces from the north wall of the oppidum, sir.”
“Thank you optio, my mind reading act needs work these days. Flavius I’ll lead with your turma. Aulus bring up the rear and watch our arse.” He nodded in the direction of Wolf. “We might just get the chance to use that wonderful standard of yours.”
Wolf heard it and swelled with pride. He changed the standard to his left hand and slid the sword in and out of its scabbard. He had not had time to practise fighting one handed, it looked like he would soon find out how to do it the hard way.
The road they rode along was not Roman made but was a worn and dusty track. They could see it had been churned up by hooves. The cohort of Spanish Auxiliaries was up ahead, tramping along the road. As they past them Wolf could not help but admire their armour. He suddenly felt naked in his leather jerking and old helmet. The Spanish Prefect pointed up to the oppidum as they rode next to him and then pointed up the road. “With luck Prefect your men will not be needed.”
Wolf turned in his saddle to watch the auxiliaries turn on command and begin to make their way up to the oppidum. “Head forward Wolf. Nothing to see there.” Wolf’s head snapped around, how had the Decurion known what he was doing? He risked a furtive sidelong glance at the oppidum. It looked impregnable; the sides were steep, there were two towers and a ditch. The Spanish would be slaughtered!
“Here sir.”
“Thank you optio. Halt! First turma turn right. Decurion Murgus take your turma to our left.”
The two turmae formed an oblique line with their left flank resting close to the woods and their right flank half way across the road. The only escape possible for the Germans was either through the woods, in which case they would lose their wagons or back to the fort. Marius was gambling they would lose the wagons rather than risk their lives. They had a grandstand view as the Spanish Cohort lumbered up the hill. The straight line occasionally halted and when it moved on Wolf could see the red splotch which marked the place a soldier had fallen. As the lines progressed up the hill the blotches became more frequent. To the recruits it seemed impossible that the infantry could reach the top and there was no way that they could take it and then suddenly they were at the gates and a cluster of men gathered around the entrance to the fort. They had hardly been there for more than a couple of heartbeats when the side gate opened and the Marcomanni and their wagons erupted through the gate. The infantry reacted quickly. While the cluster of men at the oppidum continued to break it down the rest double timed it to the other gate and began hurling their javelins. A good javelin thrower himself Wolf was impressed by the casualties that they inflicted.