by Griff Hosker
His role as an observer was ended by the Prefect’s command. “Prepare javelins and stand firm.” The order was repeated by Flavius and Murgus.
Wolf could see the wagons and the fifty riders making like an arrow for the road. They were heading directly for him. Cava was next to him. “I would take your sword out son, you might need it!”
Wolf blushed when he realised he had forgotten to arm himself. He took it out and waited for the heavy horde of horsemen to hit their line. If he had been at home in the same situation he would have turned and attacked the enemy from the side but the Prefect sat astride his horse patiently waiting. When the first enemy was forty paces away he ordered, “First twenty troopers, loose.” Flavius yelled the order in Pannonian to make sure they all understood. The ragged volley, plus a couple of others thrown by excited troopers flew through the air. Not all struck but, hitting the horses as they did, they made the first two wagons crash and hit two of the riders. “Turma, loose!” The rest of the line threw their javelins and even more men fell. To his horror Wolf saw a wedge of warriors making straight for him. He could not know that they were heading for the two officers who, with Cava were either side of him. Cava and Flavius engaged one man each while the Prefect fought two. The last of them raised his axe to hack down on Wolf. Instinctively he nudged his horse to the left and blocked the blow with his sword. His arm felt as though it had been struck by an iron bar. He saw the axe go back and he kicked the horse forward thrusting with his sword as he did so. Even as the blade went into the throat of the screaming warrior Wolf caught a movement out of the corner of his eye. Another German was heading for him. He aimed the head of the standard at the charging warrior and was amazed when he rode directly into the heavy wooden Wolf.
Prefect Proculus looked down the line and could see that the men had not broken and the Germans had turned into the exultant Spanish who fell upon them and slaughtered them where they stood. The Prefect left the line and rode forwards with Flavius. “Well done Pannonians you have your first victory.”The two turmae cheered madly, “Chosen man Cava, check the casualties.” He looked wryly at Wolf, “And signifier, check your improvised spear and see what damage has been caused.”
Gerjen and the rest of his friends gathered around. “You did it Wolf. You killed your first warrior.”
“I thought he was going to gut you.”
“So did I Panyvadi. So did I.”
As they rode back to the fort they saw the crosses being erected and the few survivors being crucified. Cava asked the Decurion, “I thought they would have been sold as slaves?”
“No Cava. This is more effective. It warns others not to risk the wrath of Rome. When we fight the Chauci we will capture slaves and sell them but this is a small scale battle on the frontier and the Prefect wants to save his men’s lives not make them rich.” He dropped back and rode next to Wolf. That was bravely done Wolf. It takes courage to stand like that armed with just a sword. I think we shall see if you can be the first to get some mail, it looks like you will need it.”
The Turma was elated with their success. A couple of men had been wounded but no one had died and they had defeated their hated enemy. Wolf took the ribbing from his friends in good part and he had learned that he was not being mocked. The Wolf standard had not been damaged but its carrier was determined to make it more robust when they next found a smith; he wanted Gerjen to put metal bands around the top to protect it and a spike on the end. Panyvadi laughed, “What? Are you going to make a lance?”
“Until I learn how to fight without the shields which you will all have then I need to protect myself as much as possible.”
Darvas shook his head, “We have no shields.”
Gerjen leapt to his friend’s defence, “But we can move position he has to stay near to the Decurion with the standard and we need to protect him. Let us take an oath on the standard.”
The boys who had joined with him and whom he had led gathered around the standard and all placed their hands upon it. Panyvadi was the thoughtful one and, as they all looked at each other he began to speak quietly, “I swear to protect this standard and my friend Wolf with my life.” The rest nodded eagerly and each one repeated it.
Wolf was touched, more than his friends could know. He had led them before but not really understood them or even, Gerjen apart, liked them. Now that he was no longer their leader he saw a different side to them and their friendship had become more precious.
“If it isn’t the Roman officer’s bum boy and his arse lickers!”
Wolf and the others leapt to their feet angrily. It was Sura and some of the other new men who had joined the turma. “Take that back or feel my blade!”
Sura laughed contemptuously. “Why should I fear a boy who cannot even take the head of a warrior he managed to kill,” he turned to his cronies and spread his hands, “how I will never know.” He turned back, all humour gone. “Any time you fancy your chances boy and I will be ready.”
Before Wolf could reply Horse’s voice came out of the dark. “If you don’t get back to your tent you will have to face me, Sura, and I am no boy.”
The scarred man stormed off with his men. Cava walked up to Wolf. “I could have handled him Horse. I am the standard bearer and I need no protection.”
The huge warrior known as Horse put his arm around Wolf’s shoulders. “All of us need protection Wolf but Sura is a particularly bad man. Keep away from him. He will get himself into trouble soon enough. Now get some sleep. We climb the mountains tomorrow and that will be hard work.”
Mollified Wolf and his friends went into their tent. Cava looked at the backs of the departing Sura. He wondered whether he ought to mention it to the Roman officer. He enjoyed being the chosen man but he did not know the boundaries of the post. Was he above the men or one of the men? He had never been a chief but he had led men in wars. There you took command because men followed you here, in this Roman army, it seemed you were selected. It would take some getting used to.
When they completed the next leg of their journey there was a spring in the step of the men of the two turmae which had fought. The Prefect noticed that even the sour faced Murgus had the hint of a smile upon his face and did not appear quite so bad tempered. Marius had been pleased with the performance of his men. They had obeyed orders. He had worried that they would not stand but follow their instincts and retire and then charge at the enemy and when the enemy had fled he had feared that they would follow them headlong. He had not wanted to blood them so early but he had learned much. It also showed him that they needed arming in the Roman way, sooner rather than later; the lack of shields, helmets and armour could have proved disastrous if they had faced a greater force.
The legionary fortress at Vindonissa had not yet been turned into a stone bastion against the barbarians who lived across the river but even as it was, largely wood and earth it was a monumental structure. The Sixteenth Gallica legion had to keep a keen eye across the river to foil the frequent raids of the barbarians who were keen to profit from the burgeoning empire. Marius took Publius with him to procure their equipment when he went to meet with the Legate. Inside the fort had the half empty look of a deserted home. Publius was taken to the warehouse where their equipment was kept while the sentry took Marius to the Praetorium. The Camp Prefect apologised to Marius. “We only have one cohort in the fortress at the moment. The Legate has taken the others on a punitive raid across the river.” He shrugged, “We have to do it periodically, sort of thin the enemy numbers out. I believe you will be further north and east?”
“Yes we are part of Legate Corbulo’s army.”
The Camp Prefect had been a centurion and this would be his last posting before retirement. He looked up at the Prefect who seemed relatively young for his rank. “Castra Vetera then. How are these barbarians you command then? “ He saw Marius’ reaction at the term. “No offence meant Prefect but I have a reason. You see I fought against the Pannonians, I was with the Ninth. Years ago now but I reme
mber them as wild and uncontrolled.”
Marius relaxed a little. “I thought that too but we had to help some auxiliaries out in the mountains and their discipline surprised me. I think being in one unit helps but they seem to be responding, well most of them.”
“Have you met Legate Corbulo yet?”
“No I was briefed in Rome. I have never met the man.”
“Well a word of advice, he is s stickler for rules and he likes discipline and neatness. He is a good general but he likes everything polished and bright. He believes that a smart soldier fights better.”
“I can’t argue with that but I suspect you are telling me this because my Pannonians won’t fit the bill.”
Shrugging the veteran added, “When they are in uniform they might look a little better but if the Legate holds a parade then watch out for criticism if they don’t sit straight enough on their horses.”
“Surely it is how they fight that counts.”
“Oh I would agree with that but, as I said, the Legate believes that a neat parade ground leads to a better soldier. And he sent these orders for you.” He handed him a leather tube and Marius took it out to read the new instructions.
When he had read it he looked up.”Interesting. It seems that your assessment of the Legate is an accurate one. They are all to take an oath and be organised along regular lines. A nightmare for me. We will need to organise smaller turmae than the ones we have and more officers.”
“If you want my advice don’t promote until you have seen your men in battle. Just use the chosen man principle.” He shrugged, “It works.”
“Thank you that is good advice and it puts my decision off for a while.”
“I have been in this army for almost twenty five years; you pick up little tricks over that time. Anyway is there anything else that you need?”
“Do you have a blacksmith we could use? We have some standards but we didn’t have enough time to finish them.”
“Help yourself and if you would like to join me tonight I can promise you better fare than you are used to.”
Although Marius did not want to leave his men he realised that the Camp Prefect had information which could be useful. Forewarned was forearmed. “I would be delighted.”
Publius met the Prefect at the gate. “I have found the uniforms. I thought that I would use my turma to bring them to the camp. The Quartermaster says we can borrow some carts.”
“Good you stay here and I will send them along with your chosen man.”
The camp was already taking shape for they were used to it. After the turma had been sent into the fortress Marius summoned Flavius and Cava. “The Camp Prefect says that we can use the smithy in the fortress but before we let your men go in I need your opinion on something.” Cava wondered why he was there. “We need a vexillarius. How about that Wolf of yours?”
“He is brave enough and he handled himself well in the mountains. Yes I agree. What do you think Chosen Man?”
Cava was a little dubious for he thought he was a little young for what seemed an important post, to carry the ala standard into battle, but he could not deny the young man the opportunity to better himself. “He will do a good job sir. He is a good warrior.”
“Excellent. Bring him along then.”
Wolf thought he was in trouble when Cava took him to meet the Prefect and he had a terrified look on his face. Marius saw it and smiled. “Don’t worry trooper, you are not in trouble, in fact just the opposite. We would like you to become the ala vexillarius. What do you say to that? It would of course mean more money and you would be attached to me and my staff.” He shrugged, “At the moment my only staff, but that will change.”
“I am honoured sir but…”
“Come on Wolf, out with it.”
“Well if it is all the same to you I would like to stay with the turma.”
The Prefect looked nonplussed but Cava and Flavius exchanged a knowing look. “I didn’t expect that trooper and of course you don’t need to accept but do you mind explaining to me why. I am curious.”
“Firstly sir I would love to serve with you but my comrades took an oath to protect the wolf standard and, well I think it is fate that wants me to carry it. Don’t get me wrong sir. I would like to be promoted but that will come in time, if I am good enough.”
“A good answer. Thank you for your honesty. If you want to go with Cava here you can use the fortress smithy to put some iron on that precious standard of yours.” When they had gone Marius turned to Flavius. “Remarkably mature for one so young. He will go far will that one. It speaks well of you too Flavius that they would rather stay with you.”
“I’m sure he meant no disrespect sir.”
Marius waved away the apology. “Don’t worry about me. I think this is a good thing. We need to build up loyalty in the ala and this is the first sign that we are heading in the right direction.”
“With that in mind sir, those last recruits, well they are causing trouble. Nothing major but I noticed when we fought the Marcomanni the new ones hung back a little.”
“Yes I know and you are not the only Decurion who has mentioned that. What we need is another officer so that we could put all the bad apples in one basket.” He shrugged. “For the moment, just keep an eye on them and try to bring them into the fold as it were.”
Publius did not issue the new arms and armour until the following morning. After talking with the Camp Prefect, Marius had decided to spend an extra day at the fortress to organise his men more effectively. The comments about Legate Corbulo had worried him and he wanted them to be as prepared as possible. The men were like excited children as they lined up next to the carts which were being used as points of distribution. Punctilious Publius gave the equipment out piecemeal. Leggings first, then the caligae, followed by the mail shirt and finally the helmet. While those carts were returned to the fortress he went around each turmae to check that it all fitted and they all had the correct equipment. Then he gave out the long spatha and scabbard and finally the scuta and javelins. Marius had worried about Publius but he had shown that he was the perfect choice for his role.
Knowing how excited they were the Prefect allowed a short time for them all to admire each other and to use the polished helmet to try to see what they looked like and then he ordered them to attention. “You now look a little more like Roman soldiers. Good but you still behave like the Marcomanni.” He knew he was insulting them and it was deliberate. “We will be joining the army in the next seven days and the General will want a smart looking ala. You look smart but we need to make you to look like an organised ala. Each of your turma will be divided up into four turmae. Each of those will have a chosen man. Your officers will choose them. This will allow us to organise the ala better and when that is done you will all swear an oath to Rome.”
The troopers all looked at each other. An oath was a serious matter and not to be taken lightly. Wolf and his friends were already oath takers and Cava knew it would not be a problem for them but he watched Sura and his band; they seemed a little put out. Cava would watch time during the ceremony and gauge their true feelings. Flavius beckoned Cava over to him. “I will keep Wolf and his oath takers with me as the first Turma. I think it will be better for them. We need another six to join them. Make them older men. I want you to take Sura and his malcontents as the Second Turma. I know it is asking much but I am sure you will be able to handle them. That leaves us with two more chosen men to find. Any idea?”
“Well I would have said Wolf, he is a good lad, but you are probably right and this way we have at least one turma that we can depend on.”
“Don’t depress me. They will all be dependable.”
Cava looked over at the surly Sura. “I am not sure about that.”
Wolf was proud that he was in what he thought was the most honourable turma, that commanded by a Roman but he wondered if he would regret his decision to cling on to the standard; he fingered the token given to him by his mother and knew that it w
as ordained by some spirit of his people. He was still Pannonian but, increasingly he felt Roman.
When they rode out the next day the Prefect sat astride his horse watching them pass by. They all looked like Roman soldiers now. Some of them had balked at losing their old weapons and helmets and Marius knew that somehow they would have secreted them somewhere but it did not matter for they would become more Roman with each step which took them from their homeland. He remembered the Roman official who had explained his new role to him and who had explained their police. “You see Prefect by taking these new allies away from their homeland we do two things; we eradicate a threat to us and we use that threat to subjugate those who will be our new allies. You are from Rome but many of the legionaries come from other parts of Italy and they were once allies. It is a system which works.”
He now saw that he had told the men a lie when he said they would only be needed for a year; they had signed on and taken the oath and although they did not know it, they would be in the army for twenty five years. He would need to tell them that at some point but he would wait until they had all been blooded.
Chapter 4
Legate Gnaeus Domitius Corbulo was not a happy man. He had two legions at his disposal the Fifth Alaudae, known as ‘The Larks’, and the Fifteenth Primigenia but he still did not have either enough men or the right men to subjugate the Chauci and the Frisii. The terrain did not suit the legions. He needed more auxiliaries. The Batavi were a treacherous people who seemed to be able to cross water as though it wasn’t there. Their horsemen and foot soldiers were all accomplished swimmers and crossed the Rhenus with impunity. He had six auxiliary cohorts but what he needed was more cavalry and he was waiting for the new ala to arrive. He was not a patient man and, with winter approaching, he knew that, if they did not arrive soon then he would have to wait until the following year to finally conquer Germania Inferior. He wished he was with his friend Aulus Plautius in Britannia. From what he had heard that was a better battlefield than the marshes and forests of this part of the world.