Hosker, G [Sword of Cartimandua 00.5] Ulpius Felix- Warrior of Rome

by Griff Hosker

  Prefect Spurius blurted out. “Surely you are not going to take on that army with two and a half thousand soldiers?”

  “May I remind you Prefect that they are barbarians and we are taking with us professional Roman soldiers? We will defeat them.” The three professional soldiers exchanged looks of dismay. The policy of keeping pockets of troops in different parts of the province was going to cause unnecessary deaths. A full legion and a full ala might have been sufficient to, at least, slow down Boudicca but the three men knew this was too small an army to do anything other than die.

  When they headed south the Legate placed himself close to the Ninth’s regular cavalry and Cresens bandits, as the ala called them. The other troopers were spread out ahead in a long column ready to investigate any sign of the enemy. Travelling with the infantry meant that they could only manage twenty five miles a day and at the end of it the legionaries were just fir to sleep and nothing else. They found the place where the party head left the road. Cava was sent with his turma to investigate while the behemoth that was the Roman vexillation trudged wearily south.

  Cava was glad to be away from the slow moving column. He was a horse man and he needed to ride. “Wolf was right. A blind man could follow this trail.”

  His Chosen Man laughed, “Are you having a go at the Decurion then sir?” Cava looked puzzled and Chosen Man pointed to his own eye.

  “No son, he is just half blind but he sees better than any man I know.”

  “It looks like they are heading for Camulodunum.”

  “Well I hope Decurions Tulla and Murgus have kept their swords sharp. They will need them.”

  “They should be all right there sir. Wasn’t it a legionary fortress?”

  “Aye. It was the first one they built but I don’t think it is stone. Still they have as good a chance of surviving there as anywhere.”

  Soon the course of the barbarian army became obvious. They saw burnt out villas and, after having inspected two of them realised the futility when they found the inhabitants spread-eagled on fires. Boudicca was making them pay for her humiliation. “Graccus, ride to the column and tell the Legate I think they are heading for Camulodunum. If you head west you should meet the road. Tell them to hurry. The bitch is set on revenge.”

  The Iceni were busily venting their spleen on the outlying farms and settlements. The burning of those villas and the slaughter of the inhabitants gave the people of the finest city in Britannia time to organise their defences. The procurator, Catus Decianus, sent riders to nearest forts and then ordered the garrison of two hundred Thracian auxiliaries to march and meet the Iceni and halt them. Fortunately there were many veterans in the city and they began erecting defences. Publius Tullus had thought his fighting days were done but he did what he had done for twenty five years; he organised the defence. The women and children were3 sent to the most secure building they had the Temple of Claudius. Made of stone and the largest building in the province the non-combatants would be safe there. The five hundred vigiles and veterans armed themselves and gave each other the knowing look of warriors who are about to die and know it. As they clasped arms they looked into the eyes of other men who were too old to fight. The procurator was like a rabbit before a snake; he was terrified. He was a man for peace and a stable city. He was not a man to resolutely fight against a vengeful Boudicca.

  The auxiliaries who marched north had no scouts out. They saw burning buildings and the centurion who led them assumed that it was a larger than usual bandit raid. Her headed for the nearest flames. The smoke from villas further afield suggested he would be too late and he was a pragmatic man. If they could catch the raiders while they were attacking a villa then surprise would be on his side. “Over to that small hill. We’ll be able to see better. Optio, run over there and take a look. You have younger legs.”

  Grinning the young optio jogged up the hill. As he crested the rise his jaw dropped. This was no bandit raid; every Iceni in the Province had to be there. He saw chariots and cavalry and thousands of screaming warriors. He started down the hill. This was too many for the two hundred auxiliaries. He began yelling, “There are thousands sir. Too many…”

  That was as far as he got for a huge warband had seen him on the hill and raced to reach him. The spear plunged into his back and the centurion watched with horror as the Iceni flooded down the hill. “Lock shields!” It was too late for any other formation and the Thracians locked shields and presented a wall of spears to meet the charging warriors. It was a futile gesture; the sheer weight of numbers overran the Romans. Even through the front ranks of Iceni perished there were so many that they simple surrounded and slaughtered the Romans. The centurion braced himself for death, determined to take as many of them as he could. He parried with his shield and stabbed with his gladius. He was, quite simply, too good for the Iceni but, as the men around him fell he was surrounded and, even as he stabbed the next warrior in the throat and axe sliced into his spine and a spear was rammed into his neck. Within moments his head and those of the auxiliaries who had fallen with him adorned their own spears.

  The Legate received the message from the procurator at the same time as Cava’s messenger reached him. “Prefect, take your cavalry by the shortest route to Camulodunum. Tribune, accompany him. Leave your Decurion Princeps and his turma as my escort. We will use the road. Slow them up.”

  Gnaeus and Marius rode at the head of the column. The land was flat which made life slightly easier but there were many obstacles to be negotiated. Soon they had a better idea of their destination as the saw the pall of smoke rising into the sky. “Well we know where they are at least.” Gnaeus looked over his shoulder. “What we can do with less than six hundred men is beyond me.”

  “I think that the Legate expects us to die.”

  “We all have to die some time Marius.”

  “This would be a pointless death. The Iceni can easily destroy the entire south and there is nothing that we can do. This needs Paulinus and the Legions from the west.”

  “Even if they get the message tomorrow they could not be here for at least fourteen days.”

  “I didn’t say it wouldn’t be a disaster Gnaeus but throwing away half an ala, a cohort of the Ninth and a cohort of Gauls strikes me as foolish.”

  “Welcome to the Imperial Roman Army.”

  Decurion Paterculus saw the flash of red and the armour to his right. He had been watching the destruction of the auxiliaries helplessly; desperate for the chance to fight them but aware that it would be suicide to do so. “Looks like the Prefect is here.” Leading his men to meet the column he reined in and saluted. “Decurion Felix was correct sir. There are at least sixty thousand of them.” He gave a wry smile, “we had time to count. They seem intent on burning everything they see.” He pointed to a pile of bodies and the spiked heads. “Someone in the city sent a handful of men against them. They did not last long.”

  “And the city will not last long unless we can distract them.”

  “You have an idea Marius?”

  “It is like when you hunt a boar. You make it charge someone who can escape it and lead it to the other hunters. If we spread our line out and attack them then they will assume we are the whole army and attack us. We can lead them away from Camulodunum and towards the Legate.”

  “Still intent on dying then?”

  “No Gnaeus, intent on doing what we can to save the civilians in the city.”

  “It is as good a plan as any. Ninth, form line!”

  “First Pannonians, form line!”

  Wolf was on the right of the line with his turma. He could see where the Prefect was from the Wolf standard still carried proudly by Gerjen. The line had the illusion of power but, although it stretched for almost a thousand paces it was thin. They began to trot towards the enemy who were still destroying anything which looked Roman. Buildings were being torn down by bare hands and any Roman they found was thrown into the buildings which had been set on fire. Their preoccupation with destruc
tion meant that they did not see the Roman line approaching until it was too late. The line hit the Iceni at the gallop and the javelins of the troopers caused great destruction amongst the Iceni but there were simply too many. They did not run away they just turned and charged the cavalry. The Tribune had a buccina with his standard and Wolf, busily defending against the encircling Iceni, heard the call for retreat. “Right lads, fall back!”

  They began to disengage. The field was already covered in bodies and Lucius’ horse stumbled and fell as its hooves became entangled with a pair of dead Iceni. The young trooper crashed to the ground. The pursuing Iceni saw him and eagerly leapt forwards. Marcus and Wolf saw the youth’s dilemma at the same time. Wolf hurled his javelin at the nearest warrior and kicked Blackie hard to make him surge back to the wall of swords and spears. Marcus put his sword in his left hand and lay low over the saddle with his right hand out. “Lucius, grab my arm!” Lucius grabbed the arm and began to swing up behind Marcus. Two Iceni tried to stab him. Marcus’ left arm came over to cleave the unprotected skull of one of them in two while Wolf reared Blackie to crush the other’s back.

  “Come on let’s go now!”

  The three troopers were the last to leave the line and yet the Iceni raced after them. Gaius and the rest of the turma had slowed to see where their Decurion was and, against all orders they turned back to throw another shower of javelins which took out their nearest pursuers. They kept running for another mile and then the buccina sounded for recall. Their horses blown and lathered they looked around to see who remained. Their numbers had been badly thinned. Lucius gratefully slid off Marcus’ horse. “I owe you my life Marcus.”

  “You would do the same for me.”

  Drusus had found a spare horse which had lost its rider and followed the rest. “Here brother, try not to lose this one. I hear the loss of a horse is a flogging offence.”

  Lucius shook his head, “If I thought I was going to survive this and be flogged I would take it.”

  Marius’ voice rang out, “Decurion! Casualties!”

  Lupus counted his men. There were but fifteen left. He had only started with twenty five but he had lost ten. He rode up to the Prefect. “Fifteen men sir!”

  Gerjen grinned at him and gestured at the standard. “The Wolf still rides old friend.” Wolf grinned back and then his face fell as he realised that there were three of the officers represented by their chosen men. Panyvadi, Darvas and Kadarcs were not there. Gerjen saw his look and nodded. “They fell for they were close to the wolf and the Iceni made for it. They fulfilled their oath and they died protecting the standard. We will meet them ere long.”

  There were now just two of the original wolf warriors left; Gerjen and himself. He quickly looked up to check for other losses and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Cava.

  Tribune Celsus rode up. “We had better head towards the Legate.” He pointed across the fields. A wave of Iceni was lurching towards them. It looked as though the sea had broken across the land and the water was the sharpened iron of Iceni warriors.

  “I agree and I am down to three hundred and thirty men.”

  “I have but sixty. But at least they follow us and Camulodunum is safe… for the moment.”

  The horsemen continued to keep ahead of the pursuing Iceni. The Legate had pushed his men as hard as he could and the two halves of the rescue met close to the road which led north to safety. “Were the numbers exaggerated then Tribune?”

  Marius shook his head. The Legate was still doubting the word of the Decurion. “No Legate. If anything they were an under estimation. There are more than sixty thousand just behind us. We need to deploy now.”

  Paling he looked around for anything which could be defended. There was nothing save a few hedgerows and small streams. “Prefect Spurius put your cohort to the left. Prefect Proculus put your ala on the right. First spear we will occupy the centre and Tribune you and Decurion Princeps Cresens can be the reserve.”

  Marius almost burst out laughing if it had not been so serious. A reserve was the last thing that they needed. “Right lads. Three lines. Decurion Cava, take the left. Decurion Felix, take the right.” He rode to their front to address them. “First Pannonians today we fight for the first time in a battle. The Iceni before us are fierce and they include women in their ranks. Do not be misled; they will gut you as soon as look at you. We can afford no mistakes today. If we are to emerge from this intact then we will need to fight as we have never fought before. You will do your duty and I know that I will be proud of you.” The roar from the ranks made the Prefect smile. They had come a long way from the fields of Pannonia. He glanced to the rear and Gnaeus raised his sword in salute. First Spear and Prefect Spurius did the same. It reminded Marius of the arena when the gladiators said,’ We who are about to die, salute you’. Except that this day there would be no spectator. At the end of this would be the victors and the dead.”

  Boudicca, or whoever was leading the Iceni had seen the Roman formation and halted her army. To his dismay Wolf saw the lines extending across the horizon. They would not attack merely the Ninth; they would surround the Romans and use weight of numbers to achieve their ends. He could see chariots with wicked blades attached to their wheels and a horde of horsemen facing his ala, or the remains of the ala. There was a blaring of horns and suddenly the whole Iceni line lurched forwards. Wolf looked across at Marius; their only hope was a counter charge and he saw the Prefect’s dilemma. After a moment he saw Gerjen dip the wolf standard. “Charge!”

  Wolf turned to Gaius. “Kill the chariot horses and then we can fight their cavalry!” He saw the nods of the other troopers. His only advantage was that he had fought chariots before and they did not frighten him. He had two javelins left and he surged ahead of his men, Blackie was like a greyhound off the leash, and he hurled his javelin. The chariot driver ducked but the weapon struck the left hand horse and, as it fell to its death it pulled the chariot over, the two men flying through the air to be crushed by the hooves of the turma. The second chariot struck the wreck age of the first and Marcus struck the horse of the third chariot. The chariot charge ended in a wreck of broken wheels and horses. Wolf and his men had no time for satisfaction; they had to take advantage of the gap. Wolf wheeled to the left and threw his last spear at the chief with the torc who was trying to rally the Iceni. As he fell to the ground Wolf drew his spatha and led his small wedge into the side of the Iceni horse. He knew there were warriors behind him but he had to create a gap. The troopers had shields and armour and the Iceni did not. The powerful horses bowled over the Iceni and the long swords ended their lives. Decurion Felix reined Blackie to enable him to asses their situation. To his horror he could see neither the Prefect nor Gerjen, but worse than that the Iceni had rolled over the Ninth and the Gauls. The remains of the ala were now trapped and surrounded.

  Suddenly they heard the sound of the buccina, signalling retreat. “Retreat!”

  Titus laughed nervously, “Where to sir?”

  “Just follow me!” Spinning Blackie around he headed for the remains of the Ninth who had formed a shield wall and First Spear was desperately trying to retreat in some kind of order. Wolf could see that the only chance his men had of surviving was to attack those who were attacking the Ninth; their backs were to them. His men and those who remained from the charge followed the man they all knew was lucky and the thin line struck the Iceni. In their moment of victory the warriors found themselves attacked on two sides. Wolf saw First Spear raise his gladius in thanks and then, as the last of the Gauls was massacred around their standard the whole of the right wing of the Iceni screamed and charged the remains if the Ninth. He heard Cava’s voice, “We can do no more Wolf! We have to save our men.”

  Wolf nodded, unable to take his eyes off the Ninth as they defended their leader and their standard. They took many Iceni with them but eventually, stabbed and hacked on all sides Centurion Marcus Sextus Maro died along with the rest of the First Cohort. In their eagernes
s to despoil the bodies, the remains of the ala managed to flee the field and follow the Legate and Tribune Celsus. By the time they stopped, there was no more pursuit and the survivors could finally look around and see who still lived.

  The Legate looked in shock and the Tribune smiled grateful when Wolf and Cava rode in. “I am glad that you survived. Your charge helped some men to escape. We will have to build a camp. In case they come.”

  Cava laughed. “If they choose to come then a poxy ditch and a bit of fence won’t stop them.”

  Tribune Celsus shrugged, “It is the way we work. Besides we need to wait here for survivors.”

  Wolf looked around. “There are but two hundred of us left.” He spun to take in all the survivors. “The Prefect?”

  Gnaeus shook his head, “He and the ones in the centre fell. They did not have as much success against the chariots as you did. The last I saw was the wolf standard as it fell beneath the Iceni charge.”

  Wolf sank to his knees. “Then I have failed. I did not protect my own standard and I am the last of the boys from my village.”

  Cava put a protective arm around his friend’s shoulder. “They died as warriors.”

  “There was a time when I thought that was the best end for a warrior. Now I would have my friends with me.”

  Marcus and the others had been standing nearby and they came closer. Marcus looked at the Decurion, “Sir you have.” He waved his arm at the turma. “We are here.”

  By the time the next day dawned, another three hundred troopers, auxiliaries and three legionaries stumbled into the camp. There were less than five hundred survivors and Boudicca had no one left to fight save the civilians and veterans of Camulodunum.

  Chapter 15

  Publius Tullus, one time Decurion and Quartermaster had done all that he could to prepare Camulodunum for the onslaught which he knew was heading their way. He could not understand why there had been a respite, for the Iceni had waited a whole day before they advanced once more on the beleaguered colonia. He was grateful to the gods for the opportunity to bolster the defences and organise the veterans. The procurator had been well out of his depth and Publius had assigned him the task of calming the civilians in the Temple of Claudius. The Procurator was not a brave man and he decided to leave for Dubris. There he would take ship for Gaul. As he rode away he justified he escape and desertion by persuading himself that he was bringing help. He was not missed by the ones he deserted but they were left leaderless.