by Griff Hosker
“Yes Gaius I do. Aed and King Maeve. My list is growing. I cannot die until four animals are dead.”
“Well young Gaius you better get off to bed. You are on patrol tomorrow with your turma and our friend the little rodent.”
“Rodent Decius?”
“Yes sir I have been improving my vocabulary it just means rat but it sounds better. That young rodent Fabius will chase you all ways to Hades and there is no other Decurion to rein him in so you watch out. At least you have Macro with you.”
“Oh that’s some help. The Volunteer.”
Marcus looked serious for a moment. “He might be a volunteer and he might be keen but so were you and, more importantly you can trust him.”
“Marcus is right. He will back you.”
“Well it sounds like a lovely patrol ordered around by a pimply face schoolboy and being looked after by Macro.”
Laughing they all left the empty wine skins littering the floor. The slaves would wonder what had gone on when they tidied the next day.
It was getting on towards the shorter days and longer nights and Rufius Demetrius was regretting not lobbying for a better posting in a warmer clime. The alternative had been in the East with Vespasian. He would have been in a better position to impress the Emperor but he also knew that the Emperor did not like him. He suspected it was because he had never served with the legions or perhaps the fact that when they had both served together Rufius had made an unfortunate remark about his family. He had made his bed and although it was a cold one he would have to lie in it. The other reason he was shivering was because he was worried. Today his eldest son Fabius would take out his first patrol. He knew that leadership ran in his blood as his brother had shown in his first action. He was now regretting, a little, not sending out two turmae but had he done so his troopers might have felt that he was protecting his son for the other patrols had been a single turma; he believed he did not need to.
He felt a lump of pride as the turma halted in front of the Praetorium. His son reminded him of himself at that age. The troopers were immaculately turned out as he would have expected; everything was polished and gleaming, the sheepskin bleached white against the red saddlecloth, he was his father’s son.
“Decurion Demetrius, you have your orders. Carry them out.” As he watched them leave he was pleased that the tenth turma had more than half of its ranks filled with experienced men including the man who had been acting Decurion. His son would fulfil his destiny. He turned back into the office. He expected the Governor to arrive soon and he wanted to make sure that all was ready; he still worried about censure over the deaths of the princesses. Even though it was not his fault he had known of officers being punished by death for such acts. He would do all he could to avoid any blame and he already had a report which implicated the former prefect should it be needed. He would have used it already were it not for the fact that the officers and men seemed to revere him and he could not risk losing their loyalty so early in his career.
Chapter 7
Gaius, as the most experienced trooper, rode at the rear of the column. Even though he was very familiar with the country he still kept his wits about him. The Brigante were the past masters of ambush and the country between Morbium and Stanwyck was both undulating and wooded perfect to entrap auxiliaries. He noticed, with dismay that the decurion had deemed it unnecessary to use a native scout. Gaelwyn was still at Morbium. When he had brought it up, as they prepared for the patrol, he had been dismissed out of hand. “Why? We are only going a short distance from the fort and besides I do not trust these native scouts.”
The rest of the turmae, even Macro the keen volunteer, agreed with Gaius but the Decurion was master; the Roman army was not a democracy and the commander’s decision was final. Gaius just hoped that it would not come back to haunt them.
At the front of the column Fabius rode looking neither to the right nor left whereas every other man was on edge anticipating the attack. It seemed as though the decurion felt there was no danger and the Brigantes would stay in their fortress. Gaius knew better for the attack and capture of the stronghold had shown both intelligence and planning; anyone capable of that could easily plan to take out one in twelve of the only Roman force north of Eboracum. Cavalry were like gold when fighting the tribes and Gaius knew that the Brigante had the power and the wit to destroy one turma. When they arrived at Isurium Brigantium Flavius came out to greet them.
“Welcome. Would you care for refreshments?”
The crippled prefect was answered with scorn and derision. “Refreshments? We have come barely ten miles.” He started to pull his horse away down the track.
Bellatoris ignored the insult and placed his hand on the bridle of the decurion’s horse. “Thank the prefect for the use of the slaves. The work is moving much faster now, the walls are repaired and we are grateful.”
Ignoring the old soldier Fabius kicked his heels into the flank of his mount and the column moved off. As Gaius passed Flavius he reined in his horse. “I will pass your message on to the prefect.”
“Be careful young Gaius for that one is dangerous he has arrogance and believes himself to be invincible. I have seen it before. Be careful. There is something in the air this morning; my knee is playing up that normally means rain or trouble.”
He laughed, “In this climate it normally rains anyway but I will be careful.”
“Silence in the ranks or I will have you flogged.”
Exchanging looks of sympathy the two comrades nodded to each other and Gaius rejoined the column.
Aed saw the patrol emerge from the woods. Since the Romans had reinvested Isurium Brigantium they had seen the patrol ride out of the woods and then, keeping the same distance from the perimeter, circumnavigate the fortress. The only variation was whether they went east or west first. As soon as the patrol was spotted Aed mounted up two hundred of his warriors and placed one hundred at the south gate and one hundred at the north gate. So far the patrols had kept their distance which meant there was no chance for an ambush. Aed had not launched an attack as he did not want to warn the Romans of his intention. They would need to be patient. Time was on their side for it would take some time for the cumbersome legion to move north. His elite unit were wheeled out every time patrols arrived and then stood down when they followed their normal pattern. If his warriors were becoming bored they did not show it. Most of them were surprised that the Romans had not tried an attack. Aed knew the reason, the legions were too far away but he allowed his warriors to believe that he had frightened the Romans away. They also believed strongly in the power of witchcraft and Fainch’s brief appearance at the fortress had given them added confidence. Perhaps with the powers of Mother Earth to aid them they would finally drive the Romans away. Aed strapped his sword on, perhaps today would be the day when he would get to try his new warriors against the fabled Roman cavalry.
When Fabius emerged from the woods he did not follow the standing orders and ride either east or west instead he kept on going towards the gate. As soon as Gaius realised this he galloped to the front of the column. “Trooper Gaius, get back in line!”
“But sir, the orders are to ride along the tree line.”
“Are you afraid? Would you like me to let you stay in the woods where it is safe? Now I can see why you are no longer a decurion for you are a coward. I am not afraid. We are Romans and these barbarians will stay behind their walls.”
“Sir I cannot allow you to…”
Fabius’s face became red with rage. Were it not such a serious situation the turma would have burst out laughing at his complexion. “You will not allow! You will not allow” When we return to the fort you will receive the appropriate punishment.”
By now they were less than one hundred paces from the walls and all of the turma looked up nervously for they expected a shower of arrows at any moment. They could see the armed sentries patrolling the ramparts but they appeared to be making no aggressive moves although they could hear muf
fled calls and some movements.
”Look you coward! Nothing. Column west!”
Relieved that they were going no closer the men trotted in column behind their leader. At the rear Gaius was fuming. He could not understand why the Brigante had not attacked but they were surely courting unnecessary danger. The Brigante were a cunning tribe as he had experienced many times in the past. The way they had captured the stronghold showed that. They were unfettered by strict rules and manoeuvres; they could strike in an instant.
Macro was at the front of the column riding just behind the decurion and he was enjoying the danger. He could see the curve of the ramparts as they swept north west and he eagerly leaned forward to try to see around the corner. In his excitement he allowed his mount to move too close to the decurion’s and his newly trained horse bit the rump of the decurion’s horse. Although Fabius Demetrius was a highly unpleasant and questionable officer he was a superb horseman and his mount was soon under control unlike his temper which erupted swiftly.
“Trooper if you cannot control your horse ride twenty paces in front of me.”
“Sir! Yes sir!” If Fabius thought that he was punishing the boy he was wrong. Grinning from ear to ear he rode not only the twenty paces but thirty. Later on the decurion said that he always intended to do that but it was a happy accident. As Macro turned the corner of the stronghold he noticed a movement from the dip close to the northern wood. In the blink of an eye he saw a hundred horsemen galloping towards him. He had the quickness of mind and control of his horse to halt and yell, “Brigante!” The whole column halted and Fabius froze. At the rear Gaius sensed rather than heard the gates open and another hundred men charge their rear. He did hear the thunder of hooves on packed soil. Fabius was still frozen. Gaius willed him to give the order. The recruits with them were as petrified as their decurion.
“Ambush! Retreat!” The trooper cared not that the order had not come from their officer, they had an order and it made sense. Gaius’ command had the desired effect and they all obeyed. Wheeling as one they turned and headed straight for the woods; the more experienced troopers slid their shield to cover their back and some of the recruits saw this and emulated their comrades; experience could not be bought but it could be gained. Fabius sat on his mount uncertain what to do when he did decide to retreat he failed to notice Macro riding across his front. The weight of the decurion and his horse crashing into Macro tumbled him to the ground and it would have taken a rider from the Circus Maximus to stay on. He was a big man and the crash took the wind from him. He lay on the ground and his horse rose and followed the rest.
Decurion Fabius looked down at Macro, shouted, “Back to the trees!” and then fled, following the horse of the unhorsed soldier.
Gaius could not believe what he was seeing. Macro would be spitted on the spears of the Brigante. He did not hesitate but raced his horse flat out yelling, “Macro!”
Macro realised his dilemma and, rising swiftly for such a big man he discarded his shield and raced after his horse which, fearful of the noise and clamour of battle headed towards the safety of the wood and the company of the other mounts. Many of the turma had reached the woods and were notching arrows. Gaius turned his horse and thundered towards Macro. Leaning forward he yelled, “Take my arm!” Arrows from the Brigante were flying through the air but they were not the best mounted cavalry and certainly they were unaccustomed to firing arrows from the back of a horse racing over rough ground. Macro glanced over his shoulder and stopped to face Gaius. Gaius wondered what he was doing as the young soldier hurled the javelin, seemingly at him and then held his arm out. Gaius did not have time to turn around as the javelin flew over his head but he put his right arm out and slowed up his crazed, frightened horse. Fortunately for Gaius, Macro was not only strong he was also tall and he virtually pulled himself behind Gaius. Gaius kicked hard; he could see the trees barely fifty paces away and he risked a look behind him. The Brigante were less than fifty paces behind but he could see a horse wandering around with a javelin in its shoulder and its rider picking himself up. He murmured to Macro, “I thought you were trying to kill me you mad bugger!”
“No sir, the warrior’s horse I hit was getting a bit close and I didn’t fancy being knocked off another horse.”
Gaius glanced over his shoulder and saw the dying horse and recumbent warrior lying on the ground. They were slowing up now as Gaius’ horse struggled to carry the two heavy soldiers. Suddenly the air in front of them darkened as arrows and javelins were hurled at the enemy.
Macro looked over his shoulder, “That took out quite a few. I’ll get off as soon as we hit the woods, Metellus has my horse and yours will die with the two of us.” The superb athlete vaulted off Gaius horse in two actions and quickly remounted his own horse still wide eyed and frothing but stationary at least.
Fabius glared at Gaius but he had gathered enough wits to shout,” Retreat but in an orderly fashion. Alternate troopers.”
The order meant that in each column pair one would retreat and prepare their missile while the other fired and then they would ride behind that trooper. It meant that the enemy always had to face twenty arrows or javelins and soon became discouraged. The two hundred Brigante had neither order nor cohesion. Each of them was trying to get to the Romans; they crashed into each other, trees, roots and the recumbent bodies of horses and men slain and wounded by missiles. By the time the troopers had reached Isurium’s walls the pursuit had petered out. The Brigante knew that the troopers could easily hold them off from behind the safety of the colonia’s walls. The decurion realised that the horses were winded and ordered a halt. Flavius came out of his villa. “What happened?”
Before Gaius or Macro could answer the decurion said, “This trooper disobeyed my orders and this other one tried to mutiny.” He pointed at Macro and Gaius. “They will be flogged when we return to the fort.” The troopers and Flavius stood in shocked silence for mutiny carried the death penalty. “We will wait here for a while in case the Brigante decide to attack but I think they have had enough now.”
Flavius glared at the decurion and then said pointedly to Gaius and Macro, “Refreshments lads?”
They both turned to look at the red faced decurion and then said, as one, “Love to…sir!”
Aed was disappointed that they had not ensnared the patrol but pleased with their discipline. He knew that his war chiefs would need to work on their cohesion and their reaction to orders but they had, for the first time, driven the Romans from the field. It was a start; it was a difficult time; they were changing from a rampaging barbarian army to an army which fought more like the Romans but with heart. He turned to Scanlan one of his young war chiefs, “Tomorrow send out a warband to harass the next Roman patrol as they leave; they will be wary and will not make the same mistake again so we will try something different. Put men in the woods. We know how they like order. They will not make the same mistake they made today but they may become careless. The more we undermine their confidence the better.”
He wondered how long it would be before the legions arrived. He was in a precarious position and he knew it. He was the bait in the trap. His scouts were, even now, hiding outside Eboracum. He would know when the legions arrived before the Romans and when he knew then he could tell King Maeve and the trap would be sprung.
Macro looked about ready to burst into tears although Gaius had a stoic blank expression on his face as they stood in the Praetorium listening to the ranting of their officer. “This trooper disobeyed an order and stayed thirty paces in front instead of twenty. I want him flogged.”
Even Rufius looked up at that statement. He would have already dismissed it were it anyone but his son. He had to be seen to back him.
“And this other man, Trooper Gaius?”
“He disobeyed my orders after he had tried to countermand my order.”
Rufius felt more secure, he could legitimately back up his son for disobeying orders was a major offence. Marcus and Decius exchange
d looks for they had an idea already what had happened. Macro was looking terrified, almost quaking. He had just escaped death and now he was to be punished. Gaius, on the other hand, had a face of stone. He believed in the inherent justice of the Roman army and felt certain that when the facts became known he would not be punished.
“Have you anything to say for yourself Trooper Gaius?”
“Sir I did not disobey any orders.”
“You did, you did, when I said back to the woods you went and rescued this trooper.”
All of them looked at Fabius for this was flimsy evidence at best. “With respect sir I ordered the men to retreat before Trooper Macro was unhorsed.”
“See! Do you see what I mean? He is always trying to give orders and I am the decurion.” He sounded to the whole room as a petulant child who could not get his own way.
“Let us go back to this more serious offence of countermanding orders. What exactly did trooper Gaius do?”
“I ordered the men forward from the woods and he told them not to.”
“Is this true?”
“Yes sir.”
“You realised that you are condemning yourself?”
“Yes sir however your standing orders were that we should patrol next to the tree line. The decurion was taking us towards the walls.”
Rufius looked at his son almost willing him to change his story slightly and say he meant to be further away from the danger. “Towards the walls?”
“I felt there was no danger…”
Marcus intervened for the first time. He was quietly angry and this had been growing for some time. He had worked out most of the events but even he was surprised at how little Gaius and Macro had done. “No danger? Despite the fact that in a few heartbeat you were nearly ambushed and but for Trooper Macro’s position and Trooper Gaius’ quick thinking you might all be dead.”
“Yes,” sneered the arrogant young man, “and who placed this man ahead of the column so that we could be forewarned of any attack!”