by Ben Kane
Romulus grinned. Few of the new officers had bothered to learn their soldiers' language but Darius was an exception.
Brennus swung the longsword back and forth. 'Just let us at the bastards!' he replied, wondering if they had reached the end of the world. No one could win such a battle. Except Brennus.Tarquinius' words resonated through him. If the time was now, Brennus was ready.
Darius stood back a little, clearly awed by the Gaul's huge muscles and strange weapon. 'You are a Roman?'
'No!' Brennus swept back his pigtails angrily. 'I am an Allobroge, sir.'
The Parthian looked at him blankly.
'A Gaul. Different tribe, sir.'
'Why fight for Rome? Money?'
'That's a long story. We were slaves.' Brennus laughed, winking at Romulus. 'Gladiators.'
Darius rolled his tongue round the unfamiliar word. 'Gladi. ators?'
'We were paid to fight others while people watched. It is a sport in Rome.'
'Professional fighters! And now you are Parthian soldiers.'
Brennus and Romulus exchanged a glance.
The Sogdians arrived some time after the scouts. From their hidden position, Romulus and the others had a grandstand view of what transpired.
As predicted, there were several thousand tribesmen in the large war band. The column was fifteen or twenty men wide and extended back for some distance. Following in the rear came shepherds driving flocks of stolen sheep and goats, food for the coming winter. Yellow-skinned, black-haired and squat, the warriors halted their small, agile ponies not far from the grove. Most wore fur hats, leather jerkins and trousers and carried composite bows, round shields and swords. Every mount was heavily laden with bags of booty.
Consternation reigned when the raiders drew near enough to take in the Forgotten Legion. Yanking their reins back violently, the Sogdians pulled up, conferring in loud voices. The racket was audible even to the hidden cohort. Arms waved angrily, threats were made, weapons drawn. The warriors were not happy. It was not until a group of riders from the back galloped up that things calmed down.
One of the newcomers, a swarthy thickset figure with a beard, seemed to be in charge. Quarrelling men fell back in obvious deference when he spoke. The leader sat calmly contemplating the nine cohorts and conferring with his officers.
'He wouldn't have been expecting resistance this close to the border,' chuckled Darius. 'Been no troops here since the moment Orodes heard Crassus was thinking of invasion.'
The Sogdian leader was no coward. There was only a brief pause before he made a chopping gesture straight at the river. A group of two hundred warriors clad in metal helmets and chain mail waited with their chief while the remainder immediately rode forward in a sweeping curve that would carry them across the Roman front.
A flock of birds scattered into the air, startled by the noise of drumming hooves. Bows already half drawn, the bunched tribesmen charged at the Forgotten Legion.
An order rang out. Men in the front rank dropped to their knees, protecting the lower legs. Thousands of scuta clattered together as each cohort formed a testudo. It did not appear remotely threatening.
The riders smiled with contempt. Bowstrings were drawn taut as they came within killing range and grunts of effort accompanied the release. Hissing sounds reached Romulus as swarms of arrows flew towards the silk-covered shields. It was an awful noise, vividly evoking the carnage of Carrhae. But Tarquinius had trained the men well. Not a chink showed in the wall of fabric facing the archers.
The shafts landed in one great shower.
Romulus closed his eyes, unable to watch.
Brennus laughed, alarming him. 'By Belenus, look!' he whispered. 'It worked.'
Muted cheering was heard from the Roman lines. Sogdian arrows jutted from every scutum, but not one had gone right through.
Romulus was delighted. The Etruscan had related the tale of Isaac's silk and the ruby to them afterwards. Obviously the purchase had been well worth it.
Excited whispers broke out as the legionaries took in the impossible.
'Silence!' glared Darius. 'It's not over yet.'
Reluctantly the men obeyed.
The enemy leader was most displeased. Roaring with anger, he sent in another attack straight after the first. It made no difference. His riders withdrew without causing a single casualty, most of their shafts now wasted. As they fell back, the Romans began beating sword hilts off their scuta, mocking the enemy.
Access to the ford was still denied and there was no camel train for the Sogdians to replenish their arrows.
It was time for the heavy cavalry. The Sogdian shouted commands at the mailed warriors round him, then at the bowmen. Visors clanged down, curved swords were drawn, shields lifted high.
Darius looked worried. This was what had broken Crassus' soldiers once before. But there was no doubt in Romulus' and Brennus' eyes. The relentless training of the men by the Etruscan was about to pay off.
Intent on smashing straight through to the river, the armoured horsemen formed a great wedge and charged forward, followed by the entire contingent.
Tarquinius and Pacorus were ready.
As Romulus watched, each testudo broke up smoothly and both flanks moved forward, forming an even greater curve in the line. Four ranks of long spears emerged from every cohort, poking out in a bristling hedge of sharp metal. Men behind readied their pila in welcome for the raiders. It was a totally different approach to normal Roman tactics.
The Sogdians had never fought defenders in such close, disciplined formation. Any enemies who did not flee after one or two volleys always broke before a charge. Ignoring the Roman response, they thundered down on the armoured squares with whoops and yells. Dust rose in thick clouds, mounts' nostrils flared with effort, the ground shook.
'Horses will never ride on to that,' said Brennus, pointing at the dense network of metal and wood. 'They are too intelligent.'
'That haruspex is a genius,' exclaimed Darius as he saw what was about to happen. 'Carrhae would have ended differently if your general had listened to him.'
'He never got the chance, sir,' replied Romulus regretfully. 'Tarquinius was just a simple soldier then.'
'And now he fights for us. The gods must be thanked!'
A tremendous noise went up as hundreds of horses reached the Roman positions. Desperate to avoid the deadly iron points, they skidded to a stop, rearing up and unseating many riders. Those in the vanguard were driven on to the spears by the crush from behind. The air filled with Sogdian screams as men were impaled on the impenetrable wall of metal. Their steeds fared no better. In some areas legionaries were driven back, the lines buckling with pressure. But the sheer number of long shafts projecting forward was enough to withstand the combined weight of men and animals. The charge came to an abrupt halt. Dozens of warriors had been killed or wounded while the remainder milled about aimlessly, unable to reach the enemy.
'Time for a volley,' hissed Brennus. 'Only the ones at the front have chain mail.'
The words had barely left his lips when the soldiers with pila drew back and released. A dark cloud of javelins flew in a low arc overhead to rain down on the densely packed Sogdians.
At such close range and against men with no armour, the Roman pilum was deadly. Scores of Sogdians fell from the saddle to be trampled underfoot. Horses which had been hit spun in circles, kicking madly. Desperate to escape, others turned and bolted. Used to easy victories over poorly armed townspeople, it was too much for the tribesmen. The survivors turned and fled to safety.
There was little mercy for the fallen. As soon as the Sogdians were some distance away, legionaries darted forward into the piles of bodies, killing the wounded. The gruesome task completed, the ranks swiftly reformed, once more presenting an unforgiving wall of shields.
Romulus could barely contain himself. The new tactics adopted by Tarquinius were revolutionary. A buzz of excitement shot through his cohort as word spread to the back.
'The foo
l is going to try again,' announced Brennus.
The Sogdian chief was rallying his war band, preparing for another charge.
'The nearest ford is a day's journey away,' explained Darius. 'More, on tired mounts. They'll try again before doing that. Just what we want.' He turned to the nearby officers. 'Prepare to advance!'
Pacorus' trumpets sounded when the enemy riders had covered exactly half the distance to the legionaries. It was the signal they had been waiting for.
'Forward!' shouted the stout Parthian, urging his horse forward. 'Double time!' He trotted through the covering trees, out into the open.
Romulus, Brennus and five hundred eager men followed.
Totally absorbed in their attack, the Sogdians were not looking to the rear. Every rider pressed forward, those at the front attempting to cut a way past the long spears. As the tenth cohort pelted after Darius, the Roman flanks moved in closer, boxing in the tribesmen on three sides. Soon the entire force was involved in the fighting. There was no possible escape for the enemy.
Except to the south.
Swords rang on scuta, urging them on. The sound was coupled with shouts and cries, trumpet blasts, the scream of orders. As in the first attack, most horses had stalled, balking at the prospect of impalement. But the sheer momentum of the charge had carried a few warriors through the defensive shield wall, face to face with the Romans. Their mounts were quickly hamstrung, the riders hauled down and dispatched. Sogdian heads began to turn to the rear, seeking an escape from the lethal spears. Fear filled their eyes as some men saw what was about to happen.
Darius roared encouragement over his shoulder. 'Quickly! We must close the gap!'
Faces purple from running in full armour and carrying heavy scuta, the soldiers redoubled their efforts. Already they had covered more than half the ground.
'Spread out! Hundred men across. Five deep!'
Flowing smoothly, the cohort changed shape. Some of the running figures slowed while others increased their speed. It was one of many routines that had been practised countless times a lifetime before, when the legionaries fought for Rome.
Moments later, the first ranks reached the edge of the right flank. Locked in desperate combat, most Sogdians had still not seen the danger. Their chief was at the front of the melee, trying to batter a route through to the river.
Then the trap closed.
Darius' men were completely blocking the way out of the 'bull's horns'. Romulus grinned, remembering Cotta's lessons. Tarquinius was using the tactic employed by Hannibal at Cannae, when more than fifty thousand Romans had lost their lives.
Chests heaving, he and Brennus waved at the nearest soldiers.
Grinning broadly, they raised weapons in salute.
The Sogdians were dead men. In close combat, nobody on earth was as dangerous as the legionary. Every Roman knew it.
After the humiliation of Carrhae, it was exhilarating.
'Close order!' Junior officers pushed the men nearer to each other. 'Forward! At the double!'
Shields were raised, narrowing the gaps between till only the sharp blades of gladii protruded. The long spears had been too unwieldy to run with. Protected by bronze helmets, lines of hard faces were visible over the scuta. Romulus and his comrades advanced quickly, on to an enemy who was beginning to realise that there was no way out.
Screams of terror greeted the Forgotten Legion.
In the Roman centre, Tarquinius' eyes glinted.
Some of the Sogdians wheeled their mounts and charged at Darius' soldiers. Launched at the run, a swift volley of pila broke up the attempt to escape and soon there was no space for the horses to do more than turn on the spot. The cohort pressed closer, swords searching for homes in Sogdian flesh.
It was bloody and exhausting work. When the men in Darius' front ranks grew tired, they simply closed the shield wall completely. Held at bay by the press of bodies and the spears of the other three sides, the enemy could do nothing. But the Sogdians did not give in easily. Eager to fight still, many dismounted, shoving their way forwards on foot to hack at the legionaries.
Romulus fought with Brennus on one side of him and Felix on the other, each protected by the man on his left. The young soldier's sword felt like a living thing in his hand as warrior after warrior fell beneath it. Their lines moved forward relentlessly, compressing the Sogdians ever more tightly. Gladii stabbed back and forth, cutting deep with every stroke and covering their arms with blood. It was impossible to miss. Shrieks filled the air, rendering the officers' orders and the trumpets almost inaudible. It did not matter. The repetitive motion was hypnotic, its result absolutely lethal.
But the Sogdians were not completely beaten. Their leader finally managed to rally fifty of his mailed warriors together, using the space left by his own dead. Turning their horses' heads to the south, they drove forward at Darius' men. Attacking the legionaries without the long spears was their only chance of escape.
Romulus' eyes widened as the frantic mounts pounded straight towards them. The impact would be massive.
'Close order!' roared Darius. 'Rear ranks, move in tight!'
Scuta slammed off each other and the men braced themselves. But nobody backed away. This would be a minor setback only; the battle 's outcome was already certain.
And then the enemy was upon them. Horses crashed into the Roman shield wall, smashing it asunder. Romulus was thrown to one side, knocking his head as he went down. Half stunned, he fell on top of Felix. For a few moments he lay, unaware of his surroundings. Then he realised that the little Gaul was shaking his shoulder and shouting at him.
'Brennus!' Felix' eyes were wild. 'It's Brennus!'
Romulus' stomach lurched and he clambered to his feet, trying to make sense of the maelstrom of flashing swords, fighting men and sweating mounts all around him. Gradually he saw that somehow the rear ranks had not given way before the Sogdian charge. This amazing effort had confined the group of enemy warriors within the ranks of the cohort, creating a confusing mass of animals and humans. There were no longer discernible lines among the legionaries, no lines of battle. It was simply a matter of hacking at the nearest enemy.
'There!' cried Felix, pointing frantically.
Romulus took it in instantly. Brennus had also been bowled over by a horse and in the time it had taken him to get up, he had been surrounded by the Sogdians who were still trying to break out to freedom. At least ten riders ringed the Gaul, slashing downwards at him with long cavalry blades. He could see that Brennus was fighting more slowly than usual.
'Come on!' Romulus yelled, noting the deep wound on his friend's right arm. His sword arm. 'We haven't got long.'
Felix nodded grimly and together they launched themselves at the warriors, immediately hauling two from the saddle. The men were dispatched with swift gladius thrusts. Their horses turned and bolted, opening up the way through the melee. Romulus snatched a Sogdian lance from its dead owner and shoved it deep into the side of the rider nearest him. Keeping a firm grip on the shaft, he pulled it free as the screaming man fell away out of view. The young soldier used it to kill another warrior before a large Sogdian engaged him. Between sword thrusts, Romulus cast desperate glances at Brennus. The Gaul was holding his own. Only just. There were several new flesh wounds on his arms and face, but strangely Brennus did not seem scared.
Quickly, Romulus hamstrung his opponent's horse, hacking off the man's left arm as his mount went down kicking. Was this what Tarquinius had been sad about during the retreat from Carrhae: Brennus dying alone, surrounded by his own comrades? Fear constricted his throat. This could not be the time. Not Brennus. Not now.
By now, Felix had maimed another Sogdian and three of the others had been killed by legionaries on either side of them. Only the chief and one bodyguard remained. Seeing Romulus and Felix bearing down, the leader barked an order at his warrior, jerking his head in their direction. It seemed he wanted to kill Brennus.
As the Sogdian's trained horse reared up and
struck out with its forefeet, the big Gaul smiled, confident he was out of range. But he was close enough for one hoof to catch the front of his helmet. Brennus instantly dropped to his knees, his eyes glazed. With a cruel smile, the chief drew back his lance. In slow motion, Romulus saw what was about to happen. But the bodyguard was between them. Without thinking, he threw himself forward, rolling between the Sogdian's mount's legs. He hoped Felix would see what he was doing and keep the warrior occupied. Romulus came up fast, drawing his dagger.
Incredibly, Brennus had managed to ward off one spear thrust but his reactions were painfully sluggish. The next blow would be the last. Romulus did not pause. He drew back his right arm and heaved forwards, throwing his knife at the small area of exposed flesh above the Sogdian leader's chain mail and below his helmet. It was an impossible shot, aimed at a man on a moving horse, in the midst of a pitched battle.
But the blade flew with all Romulus' force and skill. It flew with his love for Brennus. And drove deep into the chief 's neck. Killed instantly, the bearded warrior toppled from the saddle.
Romulus let out a huge breath. His heart was pounding wildly, but Brennus was still alive.
'Romulus?' Brennus mumbled. He smiled broadly and toppled over, unconscious before he hit the ground.
The young soldier darted to stand over his friend, ready to defend him against all comers. Fortunately the fighting had moved on as the remaining raiders were cut down one by one. He was quickly joined by Felix, who had left the bodyguard in a bleeding heap nearby.
'A fine shot,' said the little Gaul, respect in his eyes. 'Saved his life, I reckon.'
Romulus swallowed, imagining how he would have felt if the dagger had missed. But it had not. He laughed with relief. Today was a good day after all.
By the time the sun had begun to drop in the sky, it was all over. A small number of warriors had managed to break out, forcing through to the river. But the vast majority would never trouble Margiana again. Sogdian corpses were piled in heaps between dead horses. Spear shafts and bent pila jutted from bloody flesh, animal and human. Countless mouths hung slackly, dry eyes stared, loops of intestine spilled carelessly from open bellies. Clouds of flies covered the bodies and the ground was churned to mud, turned red in many places. Overhead, vultures and eagles were gathering.