‘So, are your men ready for tomorrow? We’ll get our chance to measure our skills against theirs very soon now if I read the signs correctly.’
‘Signs?’
‘Didn’t the camp prefect tell you? Sometimes I wonder how that man ever made it past centurion… Our cavalry scouts have the warband you’ve been following located, and under close watch, about ten thousand men strong. They’ve occupied an old hill fort, but without their own scouts they’re blind, and we have freedom of tactical manoeuvre I never thought I’d enjoy on hostile ground. The original warband, the one Perennis located two days ago, is still thirty miles distant, and not showing any signs of moving yet. It’s a chance to defeat the warbands piecemeal before they join together, and one I intend to take with both hands. We have the bastards that razed every fort on the North Road in our grasp my friend, and in the morning we’ll give them a taste of the hammer and anvil.’
He unrolled a rough hand-drawn map of the area.
‘We’re here, about ten miles from the barbarian camp. Tomorrow I shall send your five cohorts and four of my own, under your command, around their left flank by this route, and send you into their rear. I will take the main body of the legion forward in frontal attack, with an approach to contact across this open area, using these two large woods as cover for as long as possible. Calgus will find spears whichever way he turns, and we shall have them bottled up for the slaughter.’
Equitius frowned.
‘It’s aggressive, that’s clear enough. What about a reserve?’
Sollemnis nodded his understanding.
‘I know, I’ve thought long and hard, but for a start we’ve got the Petriana, and your formation will act as a reserve of sorts. The simple truth is that this thing’s balanced on a knife-edge — we need to get at them before the first warband joins up and makes them too big to tackle without the other legions. If we can exploit their lack of scouting ability to hit them without warning, we can get the job done quickly and efficiently.’
The other man frowned again, uncomfortable at having to tell his friend his misgivings about the plan.
‘And you’re basing all this on the reports of our scouts. Who presumably are still under the command of your senior tribune…?’
‘Yes, and the answer to your unspoken question is just as it was before. Do I trust him not to play a dangerous game once all this is over? Of course not! But he’s proved adept with his Asturians, better than the Petriana since he took over the task to let Licinius rest his men. He’s put me in a position to cripple this revolt with a single decisive blow, and if I fail to take that opportunity I’ll find myself recalled to Rome before you can say “imperial death warrant for failing to put down barbarian uprising”. What would you do?’
Equitius nodded his agreement, although his face lost little of its pensive cast.
‘If you want an honest opinion, Gaius, I’d say it’s risky. There’s no proper reserve, the advance to contact takes your force past two large woods that could hide thousands of men, and it’s all based on reports from a man I wouldn’t trust for a second… but I take your point about the risks of delaying.’
‘And if we catch them in the open, without time to form up, we can grind them to shreds between our shield walls. It’s a risk, but it’s one I have to take. Will you take it with me?’
Equitius put a hand on his friend’s shoulder, looking hard into his eyes.
‘As if you even need to ask…’
Sollemnis nodded, his lips pursed with gratitude and emotion.
‘Thank you. And now, I would appreciate a tour of your unit. You’ll understand that there’s one officer in particular I would appreciate meeting, if only briefly. I haven’t seen the boy since he turned twelve apart from a brief meeting under difficult circumstances…’
The prefect raised an eyebrow.
‘Are you sure that’s wise? It might be better to let that sleeping dog lie.’
‘I understand your concern. Look, it’ll do your boys good to see that I’m out and about, and I’ll only be with each century for a minute or two. I’d just like to see him once more before we confront the barbarians. By this time tomorrow one or both of us could be face down in the dirt — I’d prefer to have seen my son the way I want to remember him, rather than the way circumstances might force upon us. Please.’
Equitius relented, shaking his head slightly.
‘Being too damned persuasive got you that particular problem in the first place, I seem to remember. You always were too good at getting what you wanted. I’ll have Frontinius walk you around the cohort, a brief tour of inspection. Don’t give the lad any reason to suspect the truth, though. The last thing I need on the night before a major action is a centurion wondering whether his dead father really was his father, wouldn’t you agree?’
The First Spear met the legatus outside the cohort’s command tent as bidden a few minutes later. He saluted formally, and then stood to attention.
‘Legatus, I believe you have requested a tour of my cohort?’
Sollemnis smiled at him, waving a dismissive hand.
‘Relax, First Spear, I just want to see what state my troops are in for tomorrow’s fun and games.’
‘We attack tomorrow, sir? Without waiting for the other legions?’
‘Yes, and I’ve just had this conversation with your prefect. There are some aspects of the plan which are less than perfect, but if we destroy this one warband then we can put Calgus on the defensive. And we might well find that a disheartened barbarian army melts away in the face of a successful outcome tomorrow.’
Frontinius kept his mouth shut and Sollemnis, sensing his disquiet, extended a hand to point into the camp.
‘So, shall we have a look at your men?’
They walked into the camp, heading for the closest watch fire. As arranged at their last meeting, before the warband’s rampage to the south, Calgus went to the hill fort’s eastern entrance shortly after dark had fallen. His army was gathered inside the tall earth rampart’s wide perimeter, taking full advantage of the protection afforded by the massive earthwork. He had, with some trepidation, agreed to the Roman traitor’s suggestion that he bring the warband to its fullest possible strength in this ancient place, knowing that his army would be in deep trouble if the three enemy legions took them by surprise. Now he waited in the torchlit darkness with his bodyguard clustered close around him, eager to see if the man was as good as his word.
After a few minutes’ wait a voice called softly out of the darkness.
‘Bring him to me. Don’t damage him.’
Four men walked forward into the night with torches, finding Perennis waiting for them fifty yards down the road, his open hands raised to show that he was unarmed. He walked back to where the barbarian leader waited, seemingly as relaxed as ever despite the spears pointing at him from all angles.
‘Calgus. I see your hunger for victory has overwhelmed the risk that I might be leading you into a trap?’
‘I have more than twenty thousand men at my back, Roman. I doubt there’s a trap you could spring that I couldn’t batter to pieces.’
Perennis smiled, the gesture half hidden in the torchlight.
‘I warned you a week ago that the southern legions were farther advanced in their progress than you believed. Now I can tell you that they’ve reached the Wall, and are hurrying to join with the Sixth Legion. Once they’ve joined your chance to take advantage of my plan will be at an end, and you and I will be firm enemies rather than allies of convenience. I estimate that you have until noon tomorrow in which to strike, and no more time than that. We must conclude our business quickly if you’re not to find yourself rudely interrupted by the Second and Twentieth Legions. So what’s it to be, bloody victory or an ignominious retreat back into the hills? You know you can’t face them in open battle.’
Calgus turned away, staring out into the darkness, his features unreadable.
‘What do you propose? Even a single legion will
cause my people grievous losses if I allow them to face us in line of battle with the support of their auxiliary cohorts. Have you brought my army here just to tell me we’ve no alternative but to run, or give battle in the very way that has always resulted in our defeat? Because if you have…’
The Roman interrupted him impatiently.
‘I propose the ambush that’s been in my mind since the first time I scouted this ground six months ago. I propose your warriors taking the legion by surprise while it’s still deployed for the march. That way you can strike from both sides, and avoid the danger of the cohorts getting into line. There’s a place not far from here that fits the bill perfectly, funnily enough.’ Later on in the evening, with most of the troops bedded down if not actually sleeping, and the legatus safely back among his own men, Equitius invited Frontinius to join him in a cup of wine, as was often their habit in the field. They sat in the flickering lamplight and talked as friends, the artificial restrictions of their ranks temporarily abandoned.
‘So what did Sollemnis say while you were out walking the cohort with him?’
Frontinius took a sip of his wine.
‘After we’d spoken to a couple of the centurions he asked me what I really thought about his intention to attack Calgus tomorrow.’
Equitius grimaced.
‘And you said?’
‘I told him that his role of late seems to consist mainly of putting my cohort in harm’s way.’
Equitius grimaced again.
‘Ouch. And what did he say to that?’
‘He apologised for sending young Marcus to us, explained how he had no option under the circumstances. Then he asked what I thought of the boy. I told him that it was an unfair question under the circumstances, and that he should form his own opinions when he met him. Well, we walked into the Ninth’s area just after that, got challenged very smartly, had a chat with young Two Knives and a few of his men, made our excuses and moved on. We can’t have been there for more than two or three minutes, but it was enough for the legatus. He stopped to wipe his eyes in the shadow of a tent. When he spoke to me again he was obviously choked up by seeing his boy again. And, bearing in mind that he might not get to see him again, that seemed understandable. Now, Prefect, show me exactly what it is that our august leader plans for the morning.’
He stared at the map spread across the table in front of them, putting a finger on the position where the barbarian warband was reported to be camped.
‘They’re here…?’
‘As reported by the younger Perennis, yes.’
‘Hmm. We break camp at dawn, make a swift march to contact… can’t be more than six or seven miles… and if they’re in the same place when we arrive it should be a reasonably straightforward fight unless they decide to run away. Our ten thousand men against their ten thousand men, and us with the advantages of at least partial surprise and able to fight on our own terms.’
‘Yes. Although you’ve failed to guess one aspect of the plan. He intends splitting his force into two parts, hammer and anvil. We’re not going to let them run away, we’re going for a battle of annihilation.’
Frontinius’s eyebrows rose.
‘And you think that’s wise? Risk them catching and defeating each of our smaller forces in turn?’
‘He’s set on it. The fact that Perennis’s scouts have set the whole thing up for him doesn’t leave him with much alternative from his point of view.’
Frontinius shook his head.
‘Well, that goes against the style of warfare that I was taught. If it all goes right we could kill lots of barbarians tomorrow, but if anything goes wrong, if they’ve moved since the last scout report, or if there’s more of them around that we haven’t found, we could both be decorating Calgus’s roof beams in a week or two. I’d better go and treat this tired old body to a few hours’ sleep.’ The legion and its supporting cohorts snatched a hasty breakfast in the dull grey light of dawn, and were on the march less than thirty minutes after the sun had cleared the horizon. Taking another calculated risk, Sollemnis had decided that they would camp in the same place that evening, and thus avoided the lost time of actually striking camp, leaving their tents standing ready for the legion’s return. The long column of men snaked north, led by a detachment of the Asturian cavalry who had returned from their place watching the warband late the previous night. Only Perennis and a few picked men had remained in place, and they would have pulled out at first light, heading for a prearranged meeting point to provide the legatus with a last-minute briefing on the warband’s dispositions.
While the Tungrians were far back down the order of march, back behind the 6th’s last cohort, Equitius had ridden away with Sollemnis’s officers to participate in the final orders group that would start once Perennis and his scouts rejoined the column. As the legion moved forward he stopped his horse for a moment to take the sight in, turning in the saddle to stare back down the line of soldiers marching four abreast up the rough track that had been chosen as their approach route for the battle to come. Sollemnis ranged up alongside him, his horse steaming slightly in the chilly dawn air. He recognised a cohort’s senior centurion and saluted gravely, getting a brief nod and hurried salute back from the officer as he passed.
‘It isn’t often you’ll see a whole legion bashing along this fast. Even on exercise the centurions have to lay the vine stick on pretty hard to get their boys really sweating, and yet just look at them this morning…’
The hard-bitten legionaries were slogging past them at a pace reserved for those times when the legion needed to be somewhere else very quickly indeed, and some of them were clearly already suffering from the exertion. They had been forbidden to sing this morning for fear of making too much noise — any song would in any case have quickly been blown out by their blistering pace. Equitius could already see faces in the ranks that were stretched by the effort of sucking in enough air to keep men and their sixty-pound load of armour and weapons moving so quickly. Another century passed, the officer ranging easily alongside his men with one eye on the road and the other on his people, sparing a quick glance and a sardonic smile for the officers sitting comfortably on their horses. Other glances lacked the hint of humour and were simply surly in the face of such relative luxury.
‘My officers were about as happy with the prospect of today’s battle as you were last night. They also asked about our lack of a defined reserve, and some of the senior centurions were quite vocal on the subject. If anything goes wrong, Mars protect us, there’ll be a long queue of them ready to testify that they warned me about the dangers.’
Equitius nodded sagely.
‘Quite possibly including myself, if you have the misfortune to end up with your head on the end of a spear. But if we succeed…’
‘Ah, if we succeed, the old saying comes into play. You know, “victory is a child with a thousand fathers…”?’
‘So, first father of today’s triumph, where are we holding the orders group before splitting into two forces?’
‘Two more miles up the road, if Perennis is at the spot he’s chosen to meet us.’
They rode on and, as expected, Perennis was indeed waiting for them at the preordained place, a fork in the road. His Asturians tarried a short distance away, an evil-looking decurion and half a dozen horsemen, while he walked forward and saluted Sollemnis with precision. For a man who had spent the night at best rolled in his cloak and sleeping in a ditch, he looked fresh and ready for the day.
‘Legatus, I have a report for you from the point of decision.’
Sollemnis nodded, gesturing his officers to gather round before motioning Perennis to begin.
‘Sir, the barbarian warband is still in the same location and apparently suspects nothing. Their strength is estimated at ten thousand men, and when we left they were waking up for the day, with cooking fires lit and no sign of preparation for combat. If you still intend attacking, I would say that our chances of success are almost total.’
/> Sollemnis looked at his other officers as he replied.
‘Thank you, Tigidius Perennis this is good news. Gentlemen, I have decided to attack as we planned last night. The first six cohorts of the Sixth will advance in column across the open valley to the enemy’s front, using the woods to the right and left as cover for the move. This advance will be carried out at the battle march. On my command we will deploy into battle line and assault the barbarian hill fort. The legion artillery will accompany us, and will provide support from the flanks, if it can be deployed quickly enough.
‘At the same time, the Sixth’s remaining four cohorts, plus our five auxiliary cohorts, this force to be commanded by Prefect Equitius, will advance around the right flank. This force will take position ready to strike at the barbarian left and rear once the main force is engaged. The signal for them to attack will be three loud trumpet blasts followed by the advance signal. If the flank force is detected, or sees anything to indicate an alerted enemy, Prefect Equitius will sound three blasts followed by the stand fast signal, and will deploy into line ready for battle. In this case I will judge a response from the tactical situation to hand. My intention is to draw the barbarians into a battle and then close the door behind them. Gentlemen, we’re not just going to defeat this collection of savages masquerading as soldiers, we’re going to rip them limb from limb. Tell your men that this is going to be a victory that they’ll sing about for many years to come. That is all.’
His officers turned to go back to their places.
‘Ah, one more thing.’
They turned back to face him again, faces expectant.
‘I hear there’s talk in the legion about what happened when the North Road forts fell — Roman citizens, soldiers and civilians, tarred and torched, and the gods only know what indignities carried out on them beforehand. I expect that you’ve all heard men calling for equally harsh treatment to be given in return whenever we get the opportunity…?’
Wounds of Honour e-1 Page 28