Maleric eyed Simnon cautiously, but he too smiled and nodded. “And ale. He always forgets to mention ale.”
Beaugissa was already at the fire, laying a flat rock beside it onto which she set five cakes of dough. Her hair hung untied and shone a deep red where it caught the sun.
She gave Caros a fleeting smile, grateful for his patience. “They gave us a good supply of dry supplies. Oil and even a cask of ale.”
“Which we had to keep from the Gaul.” Simnon grunted, surprising them all. He just shrugged at their expressions and crouched beside the fire.
After a moment, Maleric returned the shrug. “Seems silly to just keep it.”
Caros squatted beside Beaugissa, avoiding the smoke. “Smells good.”
Rappo arrived, his step jaunty although he slowed his stride as he noticed the atmosphere. He greeted them and quickly produced a battered tin pot, balancing it over the fire. He soon had a porridge simmering after mixing water and ground meal. He caught Maleric grinning at him and coughed, his eyes flicking towards Caros, who pretended to stare into the distance lost in thought.
Although they had all eaten well the day before, they fell on the plain meal, eating in silence from the pot with wooden spoons.
“So what are the plans? When do we take our swords to the Romans?” Simnon asked into the silence as they ate.
Caros spat a stone chip from his mouth and swallowed a mouthful of the bread. “Once Hasdrubal arrives with his forces.”
Beaugissa frowned. “When’s that?”
“About ten days.” He went on before she could retort. “It will give us time to rest and repair.”
“It is ten more days for the Romans to set themselves up and buy more warriors.” This was Simnon.
Caros could understand their frustration, but Hanno was right to wait for Hasdrubal.
“Ten days is a small price to pay for doubling our forces. When we do fall on the Romans, they will not be able to hold.”
Beaugissa stood angrily, her eyes dark. “The sooner we cut their throats and send them to their ancestors the better.” She grabbed up her small pack and stalked off to do her ablutions.
Maleric looked at Caros. “How many men does Hasdrubal bring?”
“Eight thousand foot warriors and another thousand horse. We will still be outnumbered, but not significantly.”
“Against Romans? Outnumbered is not a word that is welcome.” Maleric muttered.
“Beaugissa speaks true. We should cut them down now and more warriors will bring their blades to our side when they see our intent.” Simnon declared.
There was some merit to his words. Those leading men that still wavered might be convinced to fight on their side if they saw more resolve from the Barca side.
“What part does Hanno offer you?” Maleric asked.
Caros rose. “That is what I am going to find out.”
Arriving at Hanno’s pavilion, Caros was surprised to see a large contingent of hard-looking Iberian horsemen. From the way they milled about on their mounts, shouting to one another, it was clear they were agitated. The Libyan warriors on sentry duty were alert and stood stiffly, eyes narrowed as they watched the Iberians.
Caros gripped the hilt of his blade and nodded to the Libyan guards. They recognized him and ushered him to the entrance where another guard stopped them while he announced Caros to the interior of the pavilion. Caros heard Hanno’s voice. “Send him in.”
The Libyan stood aside and Caros entered.
“Good that you have come so early.” Hanno’s voice was tight. “First, you will be happy to greet Indibilis of the Ilerget and the voice of Barca among those noble allies.”
Caros’ eyes were drawn to a figure he had mistakenly thought was a young servant. Indibilis was a thin man, no taller than a youth and barely reaching to Caros’ shoulder. He paced like a mountain wolf, eyeing Caros from the corners of his eyes.
Caros sensed that his presence was resented by the Ilerget. He dipped his chin though. “Greetings from a fellow Iberian.”
Indibilis stopped pacing and gave Caros a thin-lipped smile. “Ah yes. Greetings. You are the one who brought the orders from Hannibal, killing Romans all along the road.”
Caros was surprised that Hanno had spoken of this already with the Ilerget leading man. Behind him, the pavilion opened as one of the guards lifted one of the heavy drapes to admit Ensillia of the Ilerget.
“Greetings Indibilis. I came as soon as I heard of your arrival.” The ponderous woman wheezed and made her way across to Indibilis who smiled widely at her. She turned to Hanno. “It is a glad day to have the commander of your Iberian warriors back is it not?” Her smile forced her eyes half closed.
“It is. We have much to discuss now that he is.” Hanno blustered, looking on edge.
Caros’ initial anger at being ignored by the woman, turned to curiosity at what news Indibilis had brought and what plans might result.
Indibilis strutted forward, his chest puffed up, his chin held at a supercilious angle. “Ensillia, I was just speaking with Caros. He is a great killer of Romans I am told.”
The words had the kind of condescending praise an old man might have for a young boy’s efforts. They had the effect of raising the hair on Caros’ neck. In another man’s mouth the words would have been praise. Not so from Indibilis. The woman passed a cold gaze over Caros who smiled mirthlessly and turned to the Carthaginian. Hanno’s expression showed at least some measure of embarrassment.
“You have read Hannibal’s orders?”
“I have. It is as you say. He wished to warn us that the Romans would arrive.”
Indibilis smiled and shook his head. “A pity you had such a difficult time getting back with them. Certainly we could have met them wherever they had landed, gutted them and sent their cold dead bodies back on their very own ships.”
Caros shrugged. “No doubt you are right. Still, you will be there to lead the Ilerget forces when we go to battle. That should be an impressive sight.” He pointedly cast his eyes up and down Indibilis’ short, unwarrior-like body.
The Ilerget’s eyes went cold and his face set like stone. Beside him Ensillia snorted. “Indibilis leads all the Iberian warriors under Hanno’s command.”
Hanno frowned darkly at Caros. “Indibilis has news of the Romans.”
“They are venturing inland and to the south. Their legionaries remain at Empúries while their horse and auxiliary warriors plunder and burn the settlements of those leading men who do not swear allegiance to Rome.” Indibilis voice rose and his face turned dark.
His hatred of the Roman invasion seemed real enough and for that Caros gave thanks to the gods.
“Once Hasdrubal arrives, we will halt their advances and destroy them.” Caros replied confidently, but in his mind he saw the legionaries’ shields locked together and looming over the warriors of the Turdetani and how hard it had been to find a mere chink in that wall of death.
“We cannot wait for Hasdrubal. Even that must be plain to you, Bastetani?” Indibilis sneered.
Caros chose to ignore the man and looked to Hanno for assurances that they would wait. None were forthcoming. Instead, Hanno looked worried and undecided.
“You know Hannibal’s mind. He foresaw the legionaries coming and no doubt he foresaw the means to their defeat.” Caros pressed.
“I will stay my hand as long as I dare. Hannibal is far from here though and in war plans adapt.” Hanno smiled uneasily, his neck growing darker.
Not as quick to temper as Hasdrubal, Hanno could still invoke the gods own wrath on anyone that pressed him hard. Deciding to relent, Caros asked instead, “What role do you have for me Hanno? I had thought after a few days’ rest, my companions and I would ride north to see how far the Romans have come.”
“Glad to hear it. I want you to ride with Indibilis and his horsemen.” Hanno spoke hesitantly, aware of the animosity between Caros and Indibilis.
“That would be fitting. I would like to see the accla
imed Bastetani warrior in a real fight.” Indibilis it seemed was a man who spoke too often and never with the right words.
Caros’ jaws clenched in anger and he growled as he stepped towards the Ilerget. Leading man or not, this was one insult too much.
Indibilis sprang back and dropped a hand to his sword, his eyes narrowing.
“Enough!” Hanno’s voice had hardened. Regaining his mettle, he glared at both men. “Indibilis, you say a large force of Romans have encircled a hillfort on the road to Cissa? Start there.”
Indibilis glared a moment longer at Caros, his hand still hovering close to the hilt of his blade.
Breaking into a tight smiled. “It will hardly be much of a battle. We will be upon them before nightfall.” He shrugged his thin shoulders at Caros. “You still wish to ride with us?”
Caros cursed inwardly. Riding again the day after arriving was not something he relished. Refusing to accompany Indibilis though would not gain him any prestige and he needed that to have Hanno’s ear.
They had ridden without rest for the greater part of the day and it was late afternoon before they spied the encircled hillfort. Simnon cursed at the sight of the enemy surrounding the hillfort.
The enemy were arranged in scattered pockets and attacking as they saw fit. As Caros watched, a line of horsemen broke into a charge, and hurled firebrands over the walls. Columns of smoke and flickering tongues of flame from within the hillfort testified to this tactic having been used for a while already.
Caros hauled back on his reins, bringing his horse to a halt. His companions clustered around him, eyes wide as they took in the battle.
“There are a lot of the bastards.” Maleric spat.
“Too many for an old Gaul, yes?” Rappo laughed.
Maleric snorted. “A not-so old Gaul that has more battles under his helm than your years by twice.”
Still angry that Indibilis had goaded him into riding, Caros held a hand up and glared at them. “Enough now.”
They fell silent at once and their eyes turned to the battle across the shallow valley. The auxiliaries were warriors drawn from Rome’s client tribes. Horsemen all, they wore boiled leather armour and fought with round shields and long spears. These were not the ideal weapons for taking fortified positions which explained why the few defenders of the small hillfort had held the attackers at bay since the day before.
“Maleric, how many do you make them?”
“About half the numbers of the Ilerget.” The Gaul answered after a few heartbeats.
Caros silently agreed. Indibilis had brought five hundred of his Ilerget horsemen and they easily outnumbered the enemy. He could not fault the Ilerget leading man for that. Simnon smacked Caros’ shoulder, seizing his attention and pointing to Indibilis riding their way.
“Caros! It is time to make the enemy bleed. Now we will see just how hard these Romans are.” His lips curled derisively as he pulled his mount around.
Behind him, the Ilerget horsemen were already fanning out and striking off down the hillside. There seemed little planning beyond a massed attack.
Beaugissa snarled, her eyes locked on the enemy riders. “They have seen us! They will flee and escape surely?”
The auxiliary horsemen had more courage than Beaugissa accorded them for instead of making off down the valley to escape the larger numbers of Ilerget, they were turning away from the beleaguered hillfort to face them.
Caros thought to tell the haughty Ilerget leader that the men they were attacking were far removed from Roman legionaries. Instead, he grunted and hefted his shield and spear.
“Your men have left you behind, Indibilis.” To his companions. “Stay close and look to one another’s protection. Ride!”
Leaving Indibilis gawping and flushed, he led them streaming down the hill, angling past the back riders of the Ilerget. He had seen the road leading from north to south past the hillfort and anticipated the auxiliaries turning that way if the fight went badly for them.
The Ilerget riders hit the valley floor ahead of them and charged hard at the auxiliary horsemen. The ground trembled under pounding hooves and shrill war cries echoed through the billowing dust which masked the first clashes. The ringing of blades and screams of horse and men sounded clearly though.
“This way.” Caros was panting, his heart racing. They reached the valley floor where he held his horse to a canter, cutting north while the Ilerget horsemen launched themselves directly at the auxiliaries.
Beaugissa was beside him and had to shout to be heard above the din of battle. “Why are we skirting the fight?”
“Indibilis will find it difficult to lose and I expect something rich to be squeezed out this way.” He answered enigmatically.
The warrioress frowned and hefted her spear, eyeing with longing, the murky battlefield.
A riderless horse burst from the dust, foam and blood whipping from its screaming mouth. In the next heartbeat, a pair of men exchanging blows appeared only to be swallowed again by the dust. They were on the very outskirts of the battle proper now.
“Shields up friends!” Caros roared while keeping to the route he had chosen. A wave of dust engulfed them, filling their eyes and throats. Squinting, Caros saw a swarm of men battling ahead of them. Some were on foot, others still on horseback. To tell between friend or foe was next to impossible without entering the fray itself.
Beaugissa turned that way and Caros roared at her. “Stay with us. Your blade will taste richer blood!”
Simnon added to Caros’ voice and together they coaxed her back. She cast a black glance at Simnon and a chillier glare at Caros.
Leading them onto the road well north of the battle, he pulled his mount to a standstill. His limbs were trembling with suppressed energy and he hoped it did not look too much like fear.
“Maleric, how long before the battle breaks?”
“I might be able to finish three horns of ale. Not four.”
“What are you talking about?” Simnon’s confusion mirrored Rappo’s. Beaugissa, still seething, ignored them and sat flexing her knuckles about the spear shaft she gripped.
“The auxiliaries have been fighting the defenders of the hillfort all day. Now they face the Ilerget who are fresh to the battle. They will break if only to get away before nightfall.”
The sounds of battle continued undiminished, the butchery revealed in brief snatches as the dust clouds swirled and eddied. A warrior stumbling and blinded being hacked down. A rider slumped over the spear that had gutted him. Horses hobbling upon three legs, or kicking in agonized death throes.
Sweat trickled in rivulets down Caros’ brow from beneath his helm. He checked it was strapped tight, loosened his blade in its sheath and hefted his spear.
Loose pebbles on the ground began to tremble. The battle had swung and was coming nearer.
“Spears ready!” Caros bellowed. He braced the long shaft and steadied the blade three paces ahead of his mount’s muzzle.
“Rappo! Behind us!” The youth on his light pony would not be able to stand his ground when the inevitable happened.
When Rappo did not move, Maleric growled at the him and he reluctantly sidled his horse behind theirs.
Chapter 10
Caros tried to summon saliva to his parched mouth. Sweat bloomed and ran down his neck, dripping from his hair where it hung from beneath the undecorated iron helm. Every muscle coiled and taught, he craned forward, willing time to beat faster. The battle broke steadily into frenzied groups of warriors, locked by swords and spears, into a life and death struggle. An auxiliary erupted from the fight, eyes wild and fear twisting his face. He jerked visibly at the sight of Caros.
“Take him, Rappo!”
The Masulian launched one of his throwing spears with casual ease, taking the rider in the throat and tumbling him backwards off his mount. As one they cheered Rappo’s kill.
“Ready yourselves. His brothers will be close behind.” Caros eased his horse forward at a walk, squinting hard int
o the wall of dust. Beside him Maleric, Beaugissa and Simnon urged their mounts on with Rappo bringing up their rear, a self-satisfied grin on his face.
Shadows coalesced into a ragged group of riders fighting their way free of the battle. A standard jerked and bounced in their midst, horsehair plumes stood proud on one man’s helm and armor glinted brightly, even in the murk of the dust cloud.
Maleric grinned at Caros. A pair of Ilerget horsemen drove into the auxiliaries in an attempt to take the standard as a prize. The auxiliaries had other ideas. Hacked and speared, men and mounts fell with screams of frustration and agony on their lips.
Free now of the battle, the small band of auxiliaries barreled onwards, turning their heads to their escape north.
“Now!” Caros thundered as he kicked his horse and set it charging the enemy.
A swarthy warrior with a fine cuirass and sword cursed and called the alarm even as Caros charged at him.
The warrior swayed away from the spear blade and hacked at Caros’ arm. Then their horses collided and Caros used the momentum to swing his shield’s rim into the man’s helm. Blood gushed from the rider’s nose and his eyes rolled back into his head. Boneless, he slid dead from his mount.
Caros’ horse regained its balance and snapped wildly at the dead man’s mount, driving between the auxiliaries and fragmenting their small band.
A spear from Rappo struck a man in the shoulder and in the same instant Simnon thrust his spear into the man’s thigh, driving it up the leg and into his groin, splitting and peeling flesh from bone. Blood arced high and warm to splatter across the milling riders.
Caros slammed his shield into the muzzle of a horse as it stretched its neck to bite at him. He followed with a wild stab and parry as another auxiliary stabbed at him with a sword blade. Beaugissa was beside him, her voice shrill and incessant as she ululated her war cry. She drove off one attacker and struck at another, but the enemy rider smashed his sword into her spear shaft, driving it down. The spearhead bit into the earth and Beaugissa was lifted from her mount to tumble between the stamping hooves.
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