by Griff Hosker
Marius put his hand before his mouth to stop himself from laughing as the aide, Bucco, visibly went green as he heard the news. As he left he knew that it would be almost impossible to find whoever had killed the legionaries. He would spend no more than a day at the most. It was just a day’s ride to the nearest legion and he could be in position with most of the ala.
“Flavius you will be with me and the main body. Detach the Second and Third to try to pick up the trail of the men who got inside the fort.”
“Do you think Wolf and Cava will find them?”
“I doubt it but the Legate is insistent that we try. Personally I think it is more important to reach the other side of the Rhenus. The army will be across within two days. I am hoping that the Legate of the Sixteenth has good security at the bridge or we could all be in the shit if the Chauci use that as a means of invading us.
Surprisingly Cava’s Chosen Man, Drusus, found their trail quite quickly. “They are Pannonians sir.” He held up a bone. It was from a raven and was the type that many Pannonians used to decorate their hair. The strands of hair showed that it had had human contact.
Wolf joined the two men and scoured the ground. “Looks to be about thirty men and they headed south.”
“Away from the river.”
“Exactly.”
Cava turned to one of his troopers. “Tell the Prefect we have found the trail and it is heading south. We will follow and meet him at the bridge.”
This was the first time that they had had detached duty and they were travelling light. The carts with the spare equipment and food was with the ala. The two officers had already been enjoying the freedom and now that they might be within sniffing distance of Sura they were even keener.
The huge numbers of carrion birds which noisily squawked into the sky was the first warning that the village had suffered a disaster. “Decurion, Take your men around the village and approach from the south.”
The sixty troopers closed with the village and, as soon as they reached the first buildings they saw the bodies. All had been slaughtered, men, women and children. From the position of the legs it was obvious that all the females had been raped, some of them while they were dead. There were the bodies of three raiders, one Pannonian and two Chauci which showed that the men had, at least, put up a fight. Cava recognised the dead deserter. “Gyak!” He spat at the dead body. “Useless sly little bastard he got what he deserved.”
“Sir. There are hoof tracks. They are mounted!”
“Decurion! Get your men. It looks like they have horses.”
The tracks were clear and easy to follow. They rode hard for they could see that the deserters and raiders were heading for the very place they were, Colonia Claudia! “Well at least the Sixteenth should be able to stop them.”
Wolf looked at Gaius, his Chosen Man “Not true. They are more likely to have guards and sentries on the north bank. The ones on the south will not be expecting to be attacked and remember Sura and his men have Roman armour.”
“But they have long hair!”
“The Sixteenth have never seen us have they?”
The optio at the pontoon bridge saw the auxiliary cavalry riding up and saw the four men with ropes around their necks. “Go and find the centurion. It looks like those cavalry we were expecting have got here early and they have prisoners.” As the legionary trotted off to the main camp the optio turned to the second soldier. “Rough looking buggers aren’t they?”
“Where are their shields sir?”
The keen eyed sentry had noticed that although they looked like auxiliaries they looked even less formally attired than others. “You are right. Stand to.“
The eight men held their spears before them. Sura saw that the game was up and the twenty five men charged the contubernium. The Pannonians threw their javelins and then drew their swords. Two of the legionaries fell to the missiles whilst another two, including the optio died from the wicked sword blows. Then they were on the bridge. The remaining four hurled their spears at the horsemen as they passed. Three fell to their deaths in the icy river whilst a fourth dripped blood from his calf. The guards at the other side of the river heard the noise and formed a double line, one faced the bridge whilst the other kept watch on the forests. The pontoon bridge was without sides and Sura had no intention of charging the forty men at the end of the bridge. The raiders leapt, with their mounts, from the bridge when they were just thirty paces from the wall of steel. Their terrified horses were swept down stream, away from the Romans the survivors all struggled to the bank. Sura turned to laugh at the Romans who stood impotently on the bridge. “Just to let you know Romans that Sura of the Tecteri clan will return and your heads will adorn my saddle!” His men whooped their own insults and the raiders headed back to the Chauci stronghold of Herrmann. They had fulfilled their mission and the Romans had learned fear.
Cava and Wolf reached the bridge shortly before the ala. The Tribune and First Spear of the Fifteenth were there too with two centuries of their men. Decurion Casca Petronius Paterculus of the First Pannonian Ala, sir.” He gestured at the bodies covered by their cloaks. “I see the raiders got here before us.”
First Spear growled, “My men said they were dressed like you.” There was a threat implicit in his voice.
“First Spear!” admonished the Tribune. “The optio was a young officer, well thought of.”
“Sorry for your loss. Did they have long hair and only basic weapons?” First Spear looked at the legionary who nodded. “They were some recruits who deserted a year ago. they also killed twenty men of the Fifteenth. We are going after them.”
The Tribune nodded, “They headed south.”
“You are Pannonians too eh? Well bring back their fucking heads!”
“Sorry First Spear, it’s only barbarians whop do that. We are Romans now.” He gave a lopsided smile.
First Spear nodded and gave a grim look. “Well as a favour to me, bring the bodies back and I will take their heads!”
“Consider it done.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Tell our Prefect that we are in pursuit. Come on Wolf. They have a head start.”
Sura and his men had slowed up once they reached the safety of the forest. Two of them carried wounds. “Bandage them if you can or…” The threat was no an idle one. Two of the Chauci who had been wounded by the villagers had had their throats slit when they could not keep up. Sura dismounted and lifted the hoof of the nag he had stolen. The horses were not the best and could not compare with the horses of home but they had, at least enabled them to escape. Herrmann would be delighted with the news of the bridge. It meant that the Romans were coming over. He had recognised that the camp at the bridge only contained one legion. Herrmann had five times that numbers. Sura contemplated sending a rider to the stronghold but he wanted the glory of that himself. He could see himself rising in the ranks of the Chauci and this could be his first toe hold.
The javelin struck the deserter next to Sura and he fell at his leader’s feet his face looking shocked. Sura’s first reaction was to see which of his men had done it and then he knew, it was the ala. “Defend yourselves!”
Cava rode his horse directly at Sura. His turma spread out behind him like a wedge. Wolf and his turma tumbled in from the side away from the river and it was Wolf’s turma which met the fleeing raiders. They had all dismounted and were facing the men they had betrayed, the men who were armed and armoured far better than they. Rather than risking their javelins striking their friends Wolf and his men slashed down with their long swords, leaning low in the saddle to reach out. Sura saw Cava and tried to run. One of the Chauci had mounted his horse and was fleeing. “Wait for me!”
The Chauci cast a contemptuous glance behind him just as Cava’s sword sliced down to split the deserter’s back in two. “That is how oath breakers die!” Sura collapsed to the ground and, his eyes still open though death was close he reached out for his sword, but a hand span away. Cava leapt from his horse and kicked it away. The
last thing the deserter heard, as death and darkness took him was, “You are a murderer, you do not deserve a warrior’s death.”
Marius had ordered the camp to be built at the northern end of the bridge. “We can leave it up with the carts inside and a turma to guard it. You never know Flavius; we may have to return here in a hurry.”
“Riders!”
The ala and the men of the Fifteenth on Guard duty all took a defensive position. They were in the land of their enemies. It did not pay to be careless. They relaxed when they heard Cava’s voice, Decurion Casca Petronius Paterculus returning from patrol.”
First Spear had been checking that the sentries on the southern end had been briefed when he heard the call. His caligae rattled the bridge as he strode over, vine staff in hand. He reached the camp of the ala just as the Decurion was reporting. “One man escaped, I believe he was a Chauci. The r4est are here,” he pointed to the string of horses with the bloody bodies on them. There was a question in the Prefect’s eye. Cava saw First Spear and grinned, “I brought them back for First Spear. He wanted a present.”
“Thank you Decurion, I am in your debt. You idle buggers, get over here!” The sentries ran over. “Yes First Spear?”
“Get that baggage from the horses and lay them in a line.” He took his gladius from its scabbard and as Sura’s mangled body fell to the ground he lifted the head and slice it from the body. He turned to the white faced young legionary next to him. “Pick up the head.”
Soon there were just the bodies left on the ground. He stomped back to the bridge and, taking one of the sentry’s spears, jabbed it into the earth. He took Sura’s head and stuck it on the end. Soon the sides of the entrance to the bridge were decorated with the heads. “Now throw the bodies in the Rhenus. We’ll see if Herrmann likes the sight of his dead, headless men.” Nodding to the cavalrymen he said, “Evening gentlemen.” He looked up at Wolf and Cava. “When this is over, you lads are more than welcome to come and have a wet with me and the other centurions. A sort of thank you.”
By the time the clatter of his hobnails had disappeared into the darkness Cava and Wolf had finished their report. Flavius nodded at the departing centurion. “You seem to have made a friend there.”
Wolf shook his head. “If you had been here when we arrived you wouldn’t have thought so. He was really pissed off, believe me.”
“It is a pity that one got away.”
“I am not so sure Flavius, it might help the Legate. The Chauci will think we are invading from this side. Of course it means we will have to face the whole Chauci nation.”
“How many warriors is that then sir?”
“Well Decurion Lupus Ulpius Felix, at the last estimate it was more than thirty thousand.”
Leaving a reluctant Publius to guard the camp with his turma the rest of the ala left the camp and headed south towards the Chauci stronghold. Decurion Numerius Buteo had developed over the last two years into a much wiser and far less foolhardy warrior. In addition he had become one of the best leaders of scouts and he and his hand picked turma ranged a mile ahead of the main columns which were split into two groups half a mile apart. The Prefect had reasoned, when he had briefed the officers, that this way any Chauci scouts who avoided Numerius’ men would report a larger army and Herrmann would be fooled into thinking he had the main army ahead.
Deep in the forests Herrmann received the survivor’s account of the events across the river and at the bridge. He had been wise to use Sura and, even though his ally was dead, even in death he had served him. If the Romans came south through the forests they would be ambushed. It was how Arminius had slaughtered Varus and his legions. They would use the trees, their allies to defeat them. Herrmann had seen how effective the legionaries could be on a flat battlefield but in the forests, where they would be outnumbered, they would not be able to use their solid ranks. He turned to his chiefs. “Bring all the people here, to this stronghold. We will leave the old men and the boys to guard them. Send the riders north to scout this Roman army and see if it has left its camp yet. Bring all the warriors to me, here. We will give the Romans a lesson which they will never forget, we are not the women of the Frisii, we are the Chauci!”
By the next dawn thirty thousand warriors were spreading towards the bridge at Colonia Claudia. Their riders were rapidly racing through the forests looking for sign of the enemy. They all moved quickly for they were not laden down as the legionaries were with heavy armour, caligae, scutum, helmets, swords and javelins. Each man carried just his own weapons; some had bows, others had spears and shields, axes and shields or swords and shields. Some just had a sword and axe or a hammer. The keys to their success were their speed and ferocity.
Numerius had dismounted his men and they were walking through the forests keeping their profile as low as possible. They had ridden hard to get deep into the forest and then slowed down. One of the horses whinnied and the Decurion held up his hand. His men halted and each drew out his javelin. They had learned that, to be a good scout, you needed patience and stillness. They had both and were rewarded when the first Chauci scouts galloped into view. Numerius and his men had worked on hand signals and they had no need for words. The javelins left the hands of half of the turma and the first scouts fell to a silent death as their horses raced on. Quickly mounting the turma rode to where the Chauci lay dead. Two were briefly alive but the pugeo to the throat ended their pain. There were more Chauci scouts in the second band. These were the warriors who had travelled the furthest. There were thirty of them that they could see but Numerius estimated that there must be more on the flanks. This time the javelins emptied many saddles but not all and at least eight warriors rode back to their king. This time, when they mounted, Numerius took them away from the river, north; he would take his patrol in a long loop around the advancing Chauci. He waved to a trooper, “Ride back to the Prefect. Tell him there are scouts from the Chauci army and we will try to find out their position.”
Back with the column the ala was gingerly making its way through the thick, heavy undergrowth. It was dark in the forest and the trees had high crowns of leaves. Marius knew that he would not have much warning of the approach of the enemy and he was relying on Numerius and the skills of his men. The trooper pulled up smartly next to him and relayed the Decurion’s message. “Serjenus, signal halt.” Gerjen raised and lowered the standard. The ala had all taken to the wolf standard and the bull insignia still remained wrapped in a cart. The Wolf was lucky and why tempt fate?
“Flavius, stick Wolf out front as a screen. We need early warning. Spread the rest out as lines, two men deep.”
Wolf waved his men forwards and they edged towards the unseen enemy, still an unknown quantity. Wolf was aware that this was the first time he had been given the responsibility of being the vanguard and he relished it. He would not let Flavius and Marius down. He was proud to be a Roman warrior and, perversely, proud of his wounded eye. He found it did not stop him from fighting effectively and he even found that he sensed enemies from his right before he saw them. He did not know how but he suspected it was the power of the wolf token he carried. When they reached the line of dead bodies which marked the first ambush he halted his line and waved left and right. His turma spread out with Gaius, his chosen man at the furthest extremity. He would move forward when they were ready but he would only do so cautiously.
Far to the south the Chauci riders who were sent to bring in the last of the villagers brought disturbing news to Herrmann. “Great King, the Romani are coming from the south. They have the legions and the Gallic traitors.”
He had been fooled by the bridge to the north! It was typical Roman cunning. “We will withdraw to the stronghold. Leave the warband of Brennus here to watch for the Romans from the bridge and take all the rest to the south. Every horseman must hide himself in the forests to the south. We can still ambush them.”
Numerius reached Wolf before the Prefect. “Better halt here Wolf, there is a warband up ahead and they
are waiting in ambush. I’ll report to the Prefect. We have found them!”
“How many?”
He shrugged. “We counted as many as we could but it must be more than twenty thousand.”
Night had fallen by the time Marius reached his vanguard. “Do we make camp sir?”
“I know we should Flavius but,” he waved his hands at the trees, “this isn’t the place for it. No Numerius has spotted their advanced guards and we know where they are. They are waiting for us. We will let half of the ala sleep while the other half watch and swap over after a couple of hours. I want to attack before dawn when they are cold and sleepy, having watched for us and I want to send in four turmae on foot. Let’s spread a little terror in their direction eh?”
Flavius led the four turmae, Cava’s, Numerius’ and Wolf’s. Aulus grumbled that old one eye got all the best missions but even he had to admit that they were the most effective turmae for cut throat work. They left four men from each turma holding their horses and, with just shield and swords slipped forwards. The rest of the ala were mounted and waiting with the horse holders. They had no buccina and Marius would have to rely on the noise of death to launch his attack. Numerius had told the Prefect that the enemy were fortifying the stronghold. It would be bloody work for the legions but at least it meant it would not be women and children they would be fighting but warriors.
Wolf thought he would have been more tired but he found that he was alert and every sense tingles as they slipped silently through the forest, each man watching the ground to avoid the twigs and broken branches. In the night the crack of a breaking piece of wood sounded like a crack of thunder. They moved slowly watching for the soft shapes of men hiding behind the hard outlines of the trees. Tiberius next to him tapped his shoulder and pointed. They could see the first sentry. Tiberius laid his sword and shield down and drew his pugeo which was wickedly sharp. He slid up behind the warrior and, with his hand over his mouth slit his throat and then rested the body against the tree as though he was sleeping. With his sword and shield recovered they crept further forward. Suddenly there were more bodies lying with their throats cut as Wolf found himself amongst those killed by the men on his left. He was beginning to think they would get through the Chauci lines unseen when there was a scream to his right and Spurius, the standard bearer received a sword to his leg. Titus despatched the warrior but the damage was done and the barbarians were awake. They now had to hold the line until they were reinforced. “Second Turma, shield wall!” His men fell in before the wounded Spurius.