by Griff Hosker
It seemed eerily quiet as he and the veterans of four legions calmly waited for the Iceni to descend. Publius could see them massing before the walls. He laughed at the situation in which they found themselves. There was neither a bow nor an arrow to be found and the mighty ballistae and other heavy weapons were with the legions on Mona. They were less prepared than the Britons had been when they had invaded almost twenty years earlier. They would die, Publius knew that and the saddest part was that he would die without his comrades from the Ninth and the ala he had come to love. He wondered if he should have taken up the offer of the Prefect to be Quartermaster. He would have lived a little longer, that was for sure, but he wondered if this marked the end of Roman rule in Britannia. Certainly the Temple of Claudius was the largest monument in the land and if that fell…
“They’re coming!”
Hearing the cry the cavalrymen hefted the large scutum and gripped the unfamiliar gladius in his hand. “Make them pay dear for this land. It has been an honour to fight and die at your side!” The roar from the veterans made him feel better. He was not alone. He would die amongst brave men.
The Iceni threw themselves at the small wall which leapt them from their prey. The first six who tried to take down the grey haired warrior who smiled as he killed them were taken by surprise. They had seen the greybeards and thought they would pour over them; they were the Iceni and they had slaughtered the legions. They had though the old men would run when they charged. None fled; they stood and they died for they had nowhere to run and in that knowledge came courage for, if you were to die then why not die as you had lived, as a warrior of Rome. Publius was vaguely aware that he could not feel his left leg as he plunged his sword into the throat of the screaming Iceni. And his left arm felt heavy, the scutum seeming to drag it down. Still he stabbed with the wickedly sharp Spanish sword and twisted it as he sliced open the young warrior’s guts. Finally he had the relief of darkness as the axe took his head and he fell with the other defenders; the bodies of the Iceni a testament to their courage.
Boudicca screamed a terrifying war cry and her warriors rushed forward to the huge Temple of Claudius. As they looked around for something with which to batter down its door her women began to despoil and disfigure the veterans who were beyond caring. The huge army she had had been swollen by the women who followed the Priestess of the Mother and they were the ones who took pleasure in making the last moments of the wounded excruciating and in tearing the bodies of the dead to make them unrecognisable. When they found nothing with which to destroy the doors Boudicca screamed, “Bring wood! Burn it!”
As the flames began to rise and the smoke filled the temple they heard the screams from within. One or two tried to flee but when they died at the door the rest remained within and the air was filled with the smell of burning flesh as every inhabitant in the colonia who did not die defending the walls was burnt to death. Their thirst for revenge was not assuaged and the horde continued their orgy of death in Verulamium where Aulus Murgus took thirty enemies with him and finally Londinium where every living creature was slaughtered. After killing eighty thousand people Boudicca and the Iceni felt that they had won and the days of Rome were numbered.
When Decurion Princeps Flavius Bellatoris brought the rest of the ala into the fort at Durobrivae it was like coming into a world of the living dead. The other nine cohorts had been rushed to bolster the defence of that part of the world. Gaius Suetonius Paulinus had marched with the Twentieth Valeria down the main road from Mona but, when he had approached Londinium and seen the fires he knew that it was fruitless to waste men trying to save it. He was already bringing his battle and road weary troops to the last remnants of Roman rule in Britannia. All that remained outside of this tiny enclave was the Second August at Caerleon which for some inexplicable reason had not joined the Governor. Every auxiliary force which could be found was heading for Durobrivae.
When the last soldier marched through the gates the Governor held a meeting with his surviving senior officers. As the most senior officer in the ala Flavius attended along with a shocked Legate and Tribune Celsus. The governor himself looked exhausted and the only officer who looked as though he had stepped from a relaxing session in the baths was Tribune Julius Agricola who had been seconded from the Second Augusta.
“We find ourselves outnumber I am afraid. Julius here has checked the numbers and the most numbers we have available to fight this Boudicca is ten thousand. If the Second Augusta reaches us in time,” he threw a weary glance at Julius Agricola, then we might have fifteen thousand. A turma of Acting Prefect Bellatoris’ Pannonians has reported that the horde is now at Verulamium. They are busy destroying all evidence of Roman occupation and the enemy has grown to almost a hundred thousand.” There was a sharp intake from all of them and the Governor gave a wan smile and held up his hand, “Fortunately the officer who conducted the patrol,” he looked at Flavius who nodded, “Decurion Felix, did say that almost a third were women and families but even so we are outnumbered by seven to one.”
He stood and went to the map on the wall. “I intend to send our scouts out again and find a suitable field on which to fight these barbarians.”
Quintus Cerialis stood, “We must send to Rome. We cannot fight so many.”
“I am afraid that the Emperor is not enamoured with this Province and is thinking of withdrawing the forces that are here. He believes it is not worth losing Roman lives for and we will have to fight with what we have. Julius here has some ideas about the terrain and I will send him with your troopers Acting Prefect. I think that the Decurion who went out the first time would be a suitable leader. He appears to be level headed. “He threw an irritated glance in Cerialis’ direction, “And we need that in our leaders now.”
Gaius Cresens had kept a low profile since returning from the battlefield. He had been glad that he had been with the Legate. The Iceni had terrified him. He and his turma had remained at the back of the Ninth’s cavalry, a fact which had not gone unnoticed by Tribune Celsus. Now he was trying to avoid joining what he knew would be the last stand of the Romans in Britannia. He hoped that someone would need a turma to ride to the Second Augusta to summon them but despite all his efforts no one had taken him up on the offer. The one bright spot was that Decurion Felix was being sent to scout the battle lines. With the God’s help he would not return. He truly terrified Gaius Cresens and he knew that the man’s threats were not idle ones.
Flavius had bolstered the Second turma with troopers from others even more depleted than Wolf’s and he left with the young Tribune leading a full turma. His young recruits had grown up during the battle and now looked like veterans, despite the lack of beards.
“Why do they call you Wolf?” The Decurion sighed and told the story. “I hear that the men all regard you as lucky, is that just because of your name?”
He shrugged. “I am lucky. There have been many times when I should have been killed but I have survived. I am lucky in that my men are intensely loyal and protect me.”
“That is not luck; that is good leadership. I shall watch you Decurion for I would be as good a leader as you are.”
“I would not look to me tribune. All of the men I led from Pannonia now lie dead.”
Agricola gestured behind him, and yet al of these still follow you.”
Wolf shrugged and they headed on the road which went from the fort directly to Camulodunum. They had been travelling for some time when Julius asked the question which had been playing on his mind. “Why stay on the road? Is it not dangerous?”
“No Tribune. It is the quickest way and the Queen, Boudicca, hates all things Roman.” He pointed to the stones, some of which had been pried loose. “See she even has her warriors destroying the very road. Even though it aids them it is Roman. Those Druids you destroyed on Mona, they are of the same religion as she. They believe that we should work with the land, Mother they call it and not change it. They will not build from stone and they worship trees and plants. As
you probably know.”
“How do you know all of this? You are Pannonian.”
“Some of my troopers are Iceni and they told me.”
The smoke from the destroyed buildings and fields had gone but they still passed the bodies of those caught and killed by the rebels. The land was a haven for those animals which lived from the dead. Wolf gestured at the bodies. “The Queen would probably approve of this. Humans feeding the animals which feed the earth.” As the land became more desolate he asked, “What are we looking for exactly?”
“Somewhere easy to defend where we cannot be outflanked easily.”
“That makes sense. They like the frontal attack. We will follow a river then. Drusus, Lucius.” The two Iceni troopers galloped up. “We need a river; preferably one with some hills and woods.”
“Not many hills here sir.” Drusus looked off to the east. “Does it have to be a river sir?”
“No, just somewhere narrow where the enemy can’t flank us.”
He looked at Lucius, “The valley of the rocks?”
“It might do.”
“Right then lads, you lead us.”
Wolf became warier the closer they came to the site the two Iceni had identified. Firstly they were well away from the road and, they were close to Verulanium and that was where Boudicca and her army were indulging their passion for death and destruction. The good news, as far as Wolf was concerned, was that they were close to the main road to Mona and that meant that the Governor would have a clear line of retreat if he needed it. Wolf placed a screen of scouts between them and the Iceni to give advance warning.
Lucius was almost apologetic when they came upon the site. “That plain looks a little big sir. We thought the rocks and the gorge were perfect but we had forgotten about the plain.”
Agricola leaned over and patted the Iceni’s arm. “Let us investigate it all before we decide it is no good. I have not seen anything better yet.” As they rode across the plain the two officers noticed that the plain narrowed to a rocky gorge with two small spurs guarding the sides. Behind it there was a forest.
“This looks perfect to me Decurion.”
“But we have nowhere to retreat.”
“No and they have no way of outflanking us. All we need is some way to make the Queen come headlong at us.”
“That is easy sir.”
Agricola looked at him in amazement. “How?”
“Gaius Cresens, he is the officer who always hangs around with the Legate.”
Intrigued the Tribune said, Go on. I am fascinated to see how one officer can make the Iceni attack.”
“His men flogged the Queen and then he and his men raped her daughters. As soon as she sees him she will charge.”
“If you can get the fat bastard to do it!” Gaius’ voice showed the contempt he felt for the man.
“Not popular then? Well no matter. The Governor will order him.”
“Excellent, now it we can only get her to kill him as well then we will al be happy.” When Julius gave him a strange look Wolf explained, with out naming Lucius, what the Decurion Princeps had done.
Agricola had shrugged, “There are many men like that in Rome Decurion.”
“So the Prefect told me. Just another reason not to go to Rome.”
The Governor, the Legate and Julius Agricola were closeted together at Durocobrivis where the Governor had moved the whole army when the patrol returned. “Quintus, this man Cresens is one of your aides I believe? What can you tell me of him?”
Quintus found his friendship with Cresens embarrassing; he had hoped that, by promoting him in the ala he could forget him but now, thanks to the one they called, the Wolf, that would not happen. “I was a friend of his father, I did him a favour.”
“That is not what I need to know!” Paulinus’ voice had an edge to it. The future of the province hung in the balance. “Did his men flog the Queen and did he rape her daughters?”
In a quiet voice he said, “Yes, he did.”
“Good, Then the Decurion spoke true and the plan might work.” He walked over to the map. “The horde is here. We will send the ala, ort a large part of it to be within sight of the Queen. This fellow, Cresens will be at the fore. Hopefully the ala will draw them on.” He turned to Tribune Julius Agricola. “You will go with them?”
“Of course but I think only three turmae. The rest should be as we discussed on the wings to enable us to chase them down when we turn them.” Quintus Cerialis looked in amazement at these two men who thought they could defeat this barbarian horde! “Leave Flavius Bellatoris with the ala and I will take this Decurion Felix, Wolf as he is called.”
“Colourful name.”
“And a colourful character.” He looked meaningfully at Cerialis. “I believe he can make Cresens do as we wish.”
Quintus Cerialis, for once, was in agreement, although he did not know it with Decurion Lupus Ulpius Felix; he also hoped that Cresens would not return.
The next the day the whole army left for the site chosen by Julius Agricola and Wolf. The Governor relied on Agricola quite heavily. He had seen in the young man a general in the making. Cresens had been given his instructions and now rode between Agricola and Wolf; both of whom enjoyed his obvious discomfort and desire to be anywhere else.
“I expect you will be glad to get back to Rome sir?”
“No Wolf I like Britannia and I like the people. I believe I could conquer this whole island with nothing but auxiliaries.”
Cresens looked as though Agricola had grown two heads. “I think I agree sir. The legions are fine soldiers but this land has parts which do not suit the rigid organisation of the legions. If you visit the land of the Brigante you will see what I mean; many small valleys and steep slopes. It suits the auxiliary but not the legionary.”
When they reached the gorge the Governor was delighted. “This is perfect. Well done you two. Now we will make it defensible and then Decurion Princeps Gaius Cresens you shall have your moment of glory and draw Boudicca into the range of my legions. She will not leave!”
Decurion Princeps Gaius Cresens was not a happy man. Far from being hidden behind the rest of the army, he was to be the bait in a trap for the Queen. The Legate had played him false; he had been used. The irony, of course, was that he had thought he was using the Legate. Now he found himself in the worst of all worlds, not only was he in a fighting ala but his means of escape, the Legate, had abandoned him. As they rode towards the barbarian army, which was somewhere ahead, he was already planning how to extricate himself from this mess. Glancing over his shoulder he saw Cava, the man they called Horse, watching his every move. He suspected that Decurion Felix had arranged that placement. He could not understand how these warriors could ride into danger so fearlessly and so frequently. From his standpoint at the last battle it seemed a ridiculous notion. The only reward for winning was to fight again and the result of losing appeared to be death. He had watched two thousand Romans die in the blink of an eye. He shuddered.
“Cold, Decurion Princeps? Don’t worry when the Queen chases after you and your bollocks you will warm up.”
The brute behind him had voiced the other concern in Cresens’ mind. What if he fell into Boudicca’s hands? He was under no illusions there. His death would be both slow and painful.
Drusus galloped back to the main column. “Sir. The Iceni camp is a mile ahead. They have wagons which they have placed in a circle and they are within it. “ His normally cheerful expression had been replaced by a grey and haunted look. “They have some Romans sir. They appeared to be torturing them.”
“Very well Drusus. Well done. Decurion Princeps. Would you care to join us?” Wolf took pleasure in summoning the man he hated. This would not repay Lucius for what he had tried to do to him but it would, at least, be a part payment.
The reluctant hero nudged his horse next to the Tribune and away from Wolf. “Sir?”
“You and Wolf need to ride at the fore. We will be but a hundred paces behind
you. When they have taken the bait Decurion Felix will escort you back to safety.”
The Decurion Princeps wished it was any but Wolf who was with him but the Tribune had obviously been sent so that he had to obey. “Yes sir.”
As they rode forwards Gaius Cresens felt vulnerable and exposed. He could see, some way ahead, the shapes which he knew to be the wagons of the Iceni and every step put him closer to danger. “No escape here. You can’t hide behind the Legate this time. You are going to learn what it is like to serve in the Pannonians this day.” Even though he was talking to the Decurion princeps, Wolf was scanning the sides of the road for signs of an ambush or scouts. The Iceni were so confident that they had destroyed all the Romans that they had become lax. He wondered how close they would have to get for Cresens to be recognised? It didn’t have to be the Queen, of course, for the whole of Venta Icenorum had witnessed the flogging. All it took was one person to see him and the Queen would know. With a grim smile Wolf acknowledged that they would know if they had been successful if they had to flee for their lives. The wagons drew ever closer and still no-one saw them. He was able to see the huge wooden wagons which carried the women and children of the Iceni to witness their warriors when they fought. It seemed bizarre to Wolf and it swelled the numbers of the enemy. Suddenly there was a shout and twelve eager warriors galloped from the enclosure. “Well, they have recognised you, now let’s ride. Come on Blackie!”