by Miller, Ian
"And what about these?" Timothy asked, as he pointed to the two prisoners.
"They will come with us. Let it be made clear to them that if they make any attempt to contact the other Celts, that will be considered a violation of their terms of surrender, and I shall kill them on the spot."
"They've got wounds," Timothy said. "They won't be able to go very fast."
"Tend to them as best you can," Gaius replied, "but let them know they either keep up or die. We shall try to maintain a reasonable but not exhausting pace."
It took almost twenty minutes before the prisoners were ready to march, and this was time that Gaius was loathe to give them, but he needed them to find the camp so the time had to be spent.
As it happened, the prisoners were not as necessary as Gaius had feared. After an hour's moderate march, smoke from the Celtic camp could be seen, and before long, voices could be heard. The Romans crept towards the camp, which was in a clearing.
The value of the Roman marching camp was clear. The layout and construction of this Celtic camp offered no defensive value apart from the fighting skills of the inhabitants. Certainly, there were guards, but they could not look everywhere. There, tied to posts were Vipsania, Lucilla, two soldiers, and that clod Quintus! Yes, they were kept at the side of the camp, which made rescue a little easier. Nevertheless, they were about twenty paces from cover.
There were seemingly two objectives in this operation, but in fact there was only one. Superficially, rescue of the prisoners was a prime objective, but in reality the prime objective was to kill the Celts. If he failed in that, the main party would learn what had happened, and would most likely catch up with him before he could reach the Augusta. While outnumbered even here, there was little doubt that he could defeat the Celts at this camp, provided he made good use of surprise. Equally, there was no doubt that he could not survive an attack by several hundred Celts.
If all he wanted to do were to rescue the prisoners, the simplest approach would be to sneak in after dark, and rescue them unseen. Unfortunately he may not be unseen, and in the dark escape through this forest would be slow. Finally, every minute made it more likely the major Celtic party would turn up. No! It might seem to be a gamble to launch a frontal attack in full daylight, but the night rescue depended entirely on remaining unseen, and nobody noticing the rescue until the following morning.
Time to commence. First, the prisoners were gagged. They did not like that, but they understood the reason. His archers would creep to the far side of the camp, and should get off two volleys before any effective opposition could be mounted. Half his foot soldiers would protect the archers, and if they remained hidden in the shrubbery until the last instant, each should kill a Celt with a pilum before the Celts realized what was really happening. With most of the attention now directed to that side, he would lead the attack from the rear. Three soldiers had to remain behind, one to guard the demon and the others to control the horses and prisoners. Any attempt by the prisoners to make themselves known would lead to their immediate deaths. He took a bow from his horse then he gave the orders and watched everyone get into position.
So far, so good! Everyone was in place, and the Celts were seemingly unaware. The first volley of arrows struck, and four Celts fell. The next volley came, and three more failed to evade quickly enough, and were struck. More arrows flew, and as the Celts bunched together to make better use of their shields, the pilii flew. Wild yelling broke out, and the Celts charged towards the forest, to engage the source of their troubles, but half had had to drop their shields, and arrows tore into them. Gaius noticed that Vipsania had looked up, hope in her eyes. Gaius held his hand up to hold back the men near him until the Celts actually reached the forest boundary. Then he signalled by letting off two arrows.
He continued shooting arrows as his men sprinted towards the prisoners. Vipsania's eyes lit up to see Timothy, and then him as he ran towards her. She was so pleased, and so concerned for his safety. He and Timothy quickly began cutting ropes, while the soldiers attacked the other Celts left to guard the prisoners. When Vipsania was free, he gave her the knife, then she and Lucilla began to cut Quintus' ropes. One of the Celtic guards had managed to yell a warning, but by now there was furious fighting going on in the forest. Some Celts turned back towards the camp, but by the time they were half way towards the small Roman squad, the prisoners were free, and were being escorted back towards the horses.
Then instead of fleeing, Gaius ordered the advance. The charging Celts, instead of reaching the unguarded backs of Roman soldiers, found themselves charging straight at the soldiers. Then, just as they were about to reach them, Gaius ordered the shields locked. As the Celts impacted onto the shields the Romans leaned forwards, and as the Celts at the rear ran into those held on the shields, the stabbing started.
After a few brutal minutes, this little battle was over, however two Celts with less courage, or more sense, had begun to run towards the forest well away from where the previous fighting had occurred. Gaius let fly an arrow, which struck one in the back and brought him to the ground, then a second that struck the other man on the shoulder. However, the man ran on, and disappeared into the forest. Two soldiers gave chase, but were unsuccessful. The soldiers were about to kill the wounded Celts, but Gaius stopped them, and ordered the immediate recovery of every pilum and arrow that was available then a retreat to the horses. Killing the wounded to maintain secrecy was pointless once one man had escaped.
As Gaius approached the horses, Vipsania rushed towards him and hugged him. Gaius quickly kissed her, then asked her to get onto one of the horses. He turned to Lucilla, gave a quick smile of greeting, and pointed to a second horse. Those wounded were placed on horses, and only two horses remained, one of which carried supplies, and one carried Gaius' writings and metal objects. Quintus, who up until this moment had been letting anyone who was interested know how badly the Celts had treated him, strode towards the horse carrying Gaius' supplies.
"You will leave that horse alone," Gaius said coldly.
"But I have to ride! And this is only . . . just junk!"
"You will run with the rest of the men," Gaius said simply.
"You can't order me around! I'm not . . ."
"You are correct. Technically, I can't order you, but I don't have to take you either. You don't have to run. If you want to walk, and take your chances with the Celts . . ."
"You don't like me, do you?" Quintus gave a surly scowl. "You think I took your wretched corn . . ."
"We can argue about that later. Either walk, or take this rope and lead this . . . whatever!" Gaius said coldly, and handed him the rope holding the demon.
"Who . . ? What??" Quintus gasped.
"I have no idea," Gaius shrugged, "although I hope to find out. But first, we have to get out of here. Centurion! Two advanced scouts. We give them a couple of minutes, then we move, at the double for the first hour. We go northwest until we are out of sight of this camp, then, since we have to assume the main band will come back here and the prisoners will tell them which direction we went, I want to go in some other direction. When we turn, I also want an option where it is not obvious that we have changed direction. No soft mud to leave horses' footprints, either way. Tell the scouts the emphasis is on trying to conceal where we eventually go."
"Yes, sir."
Gaius looked around. Everything seemed as satisfactory as it was going to get. There was no sign of Celts, and the Romans had organized themselves with the efficiency expected of them. Quintus was standing around grumbling about this and that, but nobody was taking much notice of him.
Everybody was taking glances of the demon, but were almost too afraid to look directly at it. On the other hand, the demon itself seemed to be less than confident, and it was searching around, cowered, but looking for some means of escape.
Vipsania seemed fascinated by it, and, when Gaius came over towards her, she asked in an almost awed tone, "What is that?"
"It's a m
ember of some race which obviously isn't human. They're far more advanced than we are, and if there's enough of them who wanted to, they could conquer and enslave the entire Roman people."
"But that's . . ."
"It means that finding out who they are, and what they're doing, is a prime goal."
"Then you'll have to make peace with them," Vipsania pointed out.
"I guess so," Gaius nodded. That thought had not occurred to him, and in fact he had been so busy organizing the escape that up until now he had not even considered the problem of what to do with the demon.
"In which case," Vipsania offered, "you should untie him or her, and try to treat him or her reasonably."
Gaius stared at her, then nodded. "You're quite correct," he said. It had not occurred to him that he might need cooperation from this demon, and he was still far from convinced that he could ever trust it far enough to let it out of his hands, but another niggling thought struck him: if there were more of these demons nearby, the situation could be reversed. If more demons turned up, what would he do? Fight? Try to negotiate? The latter was difficult, because the demon did not seem to understand him.
He walked towards the demon, and said, "I don't know whether you understand this, but I am going to untie you. Do not try to escape." He began untying. When he finished, he led the demon towards the horse that carried his bags. He lifted him up, then said, "Here! Hang on!"
"Why does he get a horse when I don't?" Quintus muttered.
"Because he may be more important than you," Gaius grinned. "Lead the horse." He turned towards the demon as the horse started to walk, and said, "Hang on!"
As the horse began to walk, Gaius stared in disbelief, which rapidly turned to deeper concern. This creature had obviously never been on a horse before, but even stranger, it was becoming apparent that the creature had never even seen a horse before, at least up close. If it had never been on a horse, where had it come from? It could not have come from these islands, so from where? Thanks to Aristotle, he knew the Earth was a very big place. Perhaps it came from the other side. If it did, how many of them were there? How many others knew of Rome? Was this a lone explorer? If so, what should they do?
Whatever this was, it seemed not to understand Latin. That was a problem, for he had to establish some form of communication.
It was then that a very frightening thought struck him: the very future of Rome might depend on what he did next. Then the prophecy returned. He would return to Rome in ruins. If there were an army of similar creatures with similar weapons, suddenly that prophecy was realistic. It seemed two options were available to him. He could kill this creature, and hope to keep the existence of Rome a secret. If the creature had friends who discovered what had happened, that could precipitate the very disaster he was trying to avoid. He could try to make the creature an ally. The creature could appear to become friendly, then turn on him, and again the disaster would be precipitated. There seemed to be no correct answer.
There was now no point in taking the wounded Celtic prisoners, so he tied them to the posts, then ordered a march to the northwest. They set off slowly, but quietly, and Gaius looked back to see the prisoners watching carefully where they went. That was inevitable. They marched for about half an hour when they came to a large expanse of quite stony ground. One of the scouts greeted them, and indicated that there was a stony expanse to the southwest. It was not perfect, but it was the best available. There was forest to the north, with more than one track. If they could clear the open area before the Celts came, the Celts would have a choice.
Gaius thanked the scout, and told him to find the others and tell them the party was heading on his recommended path. If the scouts could not rejoin the party, they were to make their way as best they could to the Augusta.
After an hour of double marching, it was clear that Quintus was almost exhausted. Rather reluctantly, Gaius called for a halt, and produced some food. After handing out some rations, he took some to the creature. It stared at the flat bread, almost suspiciously, then shook its head. Gaius guessed that it suspected the bread had gone off, and he had to admit that it had not necessarily travelled well since it had been prepared the previous night, so he broke off a piece, ate it, then offered the rest to the creature. Again it shook its head in the negative, but it did point to the water bottle. Gaius handed it the bottle, and it drank vigorously, then nodded as if in appreciation, and handed back the bottle.
All of this worried Gaius even further. The creature was thirsty and it accepted drink. It would also be hungry, but it refused food. Why?
Then the march resumed, this time at ordinary marching pace. Progress seemed to be good, but then, just as they approached some more flat land he looked up to see real concern on the face of the creature. It was looking towards where they had come from, and . . . Then Gaius heard what the creature had heard: the sound of pursuit. Gaius nodded towards the creature and tried to indicate that the creature would remain as safe as anyone while in the party. It was then that the creature pointed to a small hill with a flat top.
Gaius stared, then nodded. The hill had reasonably steep sides, it was not very large, and it was probably the most defensible site nearby. The other option was to stay in the forest and hide, but since he could hear the barking of a dog that was unlikely to work. They could also try to run, but one look at Quintus showed that would not work either. His best chance would be to find a defensible position and hope they could survive long enough for Vespasian's men to arrive. That hill was the nearest and perhaps the only realistic defensible position. Gaius ordered the march.
They reached the base of the hill at about the same time the Celts emerged from the forest. As the party began to climb, Gaius ordered all water bottles to be refilled from the small stream at the base of the hill.
By the time they had reached the top of the hill, the Celts had nearly reached the base. There were nearly four hundred of them, and there was no possibility of winning against that many in an open fight. On the hill, however, there were chances. He remembered his exercise against the General, where he had tried to refight the battle of Alesia. There were similarities here. If the Celts massed in one place, he could go down the other side. If the Celts surrounded the hill, they would have to break up into quite small parties that would have to be well separated, and now a concentrated attack on one such party might let them break out. There was also the redeeming feature of there being a number of large rocks on the hill. These could inflict considerable damage to masses on a steep slope. Gaius sent one of his men to check for other ways up, and possibly down.
There could be no breakout yet. His party was tired, and needed to regain strength. Also, it was possible that troops from the Augusta might turn up, which would make any attempt at escape pointless. The top of this hill was by far the best place from which to signal. Unfortunately, there was no sign of help from the west.
"Now look what you've done!" Gaius turned to see Quintus embarking on another pitiful moan. "There's no escape! We're going to die!"
Gaius stared angrily at him, then sadly towards Lucilla. This was a crisis. He could not have Quintus going on like this. It was bad for morale, and to have someone speaking to a Legate like that was bad for discipline. But he was Lucilla's husband, and . . .
Lucilla appeared to realize, because she stepped forward and spoke to Quintus. "It's not Gaius' fault. If it wasn't for him we would still be tied to a post, and I'd probably be raped by now. We should thank him for rescuing us."
"Some rescue!" Quintus grumbled. "They've caught us again, and . . ."
"They caught us because you couldn't keep up," Lucilla pointed out. "If we hadn't had to stop . . ."
"Don't you answer me back, bitch!" Quintus spat, and strode forward to strike Lucilla.
Gaius leaped forward, and stood between Quintus and his sister. "If you want to hit someone, try me," he said coldly. "I should add that you might be better off to try fighting Celts, if you've still got any spine."
Quintus stared at Gaius, then backed down. "If we'd killed that thing, and given me the horse . . ." he began grumbling. The creature seemed to understand, and flinched away from Quintus.
"It had the horse because it could use the horse without throwing away my belongings," Gaius said simply.
"You could have thrown that rubbish away."
"I could throw you to the Celts," Gaius pointed out. "If you don't fight with us, I just might do that."
"You'd like to do that, wouldn't you? That wife of yours told you I'd taken your wretched corn, didn't she?"
"All right! Since you raised this matter, let's settle it. Did you take corn money?"
"I never received a sesterce from your corn!"
Gaius noticed the word 'received', and muttered, "I believe you, and I think I know who did. Now, back to your post!"
Quintus stared at him, then muttered, "Your stupid wife would've benefited, you know."
"Quintus, either you fight with us, or start running. Make up your mind."
Quintus backed away, and said nothing.
"If you're going to stay, unless you are any use with sword or long spear, you should simply throw rocks," Gaius ordered. "Your position will be on this point here. This is the steepest part, and anyone climbing will have to use their hands, and go slowly. I doubt too many will try, but if they do, you must hit them with a rock, at least as big as this," and he picked up a rock that would have weighed several kilograms.
"I can't throw that very far," Quintus shook his head.
"No need. It will fall quite adequately by itself, and if the man wants to leap back to dodge it, well and good. Unless you think you can hit someone on the track S-bends down below, let your targets get as close as you dare, that way you are more likely to hit them. Right, everybody else! You might as well gather rocks as well. Timothy, bring all the arrows we've got."
"Is there anything I can do?" Vipsania asked.