The Bastetani warrior champion did not pause, but slashed and swung all the harder. Alternating his blows between Beaugissa and Maleric until his brow was damp and his breath strained. He dropped back with a curse when he crushed his fingers between the stave and Maleric’s swinging shield. Snapping his fingers to revive them, he glared at Caros. “They are just going to keep blocking me. What if I go around them? Is that allowed?”
Caros screwed his chin up and opened his palms. “Of course you could, but let us say these two Romans have fifty shield brothers to either side of them. They do tend to hunt in packs after all.”
Dubgetious glared at Maleric and Beaugissa. “Well, I could be here all night if they just block me. Real Romans would at least fight back. This is a trick.”
Caros nodded thoughtfully. “I suppose that is true.” He conceded. Behind him, ranging up the hillside, near a thousand regular Bastetani men and women had gathered to watch.
“Do you think you would be able to defeat them and bruise me if they consented to fight back?
Dubgetious eyed Maleric dubiously. The Bastetani was powerful and fast as a lynx, but he was not arrogant. Caros respected the warrior all the more for the way he considered his options. Several heartbeats later, he nodded once to Caros and beat his stave on his shield to signal he was ready. Lifting his shield, he set his feet, waiting for the attack. Neither Maleric nor Beaugissa moved.
Dubgetious smiled and shook his head. “Right, I will end this then.” His second attack was no less dazzling than the first. In the blink of an eye, his stave was hissing through the air to thunder off Beaugissa’s shield. Maleric caught the next blow with his shield and in that moment, Beaugissa took a step forward and planted her stave into Dubgetious side, just above his hip and below the rim of his leather cuirass.
Warriors all around whooped and clapped. Dubgetious, and even his parents, were given various unsavory anatomical names as well for good measure.
The warrior danced back with a curse, his hand pressed to his side and his face white from the pain. He took three deep breaths and flexed his thigh before resuming his position. He smiled at Beaugissa and pointed his stave at her.
“I have a stick for you warrioress.”
Caros lifted his arms. “Dubgetious!” The Bastetani warrior rose from his battle ready stance. Caros was looking at all the leading men. He turned to the larger audience at his back. “Dubgetious, was stabbed with a Roman gladius.” Caros held a short sword up. “This slid into his belly!” He turned slowly, letting the silver metal scatter the sun’s rays like ice shards in winter. “Such a blow would put any man down. We know this!”
Dubgetious swore. “But she only stabbed me once!”
“How many blows did you make Dubgetious?”
“One. I took Neugen down.”
“No. I asked how many blows you made. Not how many blows you landed.”
Dubgetious held the stave up. Its ends were crushed and splintered. Blue and yellow paint from the shields coated it in places.
“A good many. It was like a thunderstorm was it not?”
Caros nodded. “You are truly a son of the Bastetani! Sad then, that you fell after all those blows to just one quick stab from the enemy.”
Dubgetious fell silent. Warriors on the hillside jeered and shouted to give Dubgetious another chance. Many of the leading warriors took up the chant.
Caros caught Dubgetious’ eye and saw the man’s mind working, saw his lips part as comprehension lit in his eyes. Caros dipped his head.
Dubgetious lifted his arms, silencing the warriors at once. He looked at Caros and then turned to face the leading warriors.
“Do you not see? I fight just like every one of you, my shield brothers and sisters.” He pointed to where Maleric and Beaugissa stood unmoving, shields still ready to deflect a thousand blows. “If that is how the Romans fight, then why should a real battle end any differently to this one?” He shook his head, even then the understanding not complete. The leading warriors raised their eyebrows and many of the graybeards spat in contempt.
Dubgetious turned to Caros, who stood silently, arms folded. “How then?”
Caros pursed his lips, crushing the small smile of satisfaction. Too many refused to understand the demonstration. Dubgetious was a popular warrior and formidable. There were tales of how he killed seven Turdetani raiders single handedly and drove off five more. He was rumored to have sired sons in every village on the Oretani border. He was wealthy with twelve good mares and two fine stallions. His influence would be essential in getting the leading warriors to adapt their ancient style of fighting so that they in turn could train their kin and clans, the common warriors.
There was so little time though.
Chapter 20
Sunlight shone through a haze that had been present since dawn, casting weak shadows and occasionally flashing off some piece of armor or blade. Excitement thrummed through the Bastetani warriors. Men and women laughed and heckled one another as they massed on their side of the valley. The reek of grease, hide and sweat rose pungently from their disordered ranks.
Caros knew other scents would soon overpower these. The vinegary smell of piss, the blunt stench of shit and the burn of vomit. All of these floating on the coppery odor of blood and viscera.
He watched Dubgetious talking to his warriors, his head high and shoulders back. His warriors growled and stamped their feet with every gesture the proud Bastetani made. In the other direction a graybeard was holding back his men with outstretched arms and glowering looks.
“They want blood. I cannot see them holding back much longer.” Neugen was watching the same graybeard.
Caros slid from his mount and slapped its rump, sending it trotting to join the small herd guarded by the youths too young to join battle.
“It is time.” He smiled at Neugen, noting the sheen of perspiration on his upper lip. Maleric stood frowning grimly, his eyes fastened on the ruler straight lines of the enemy.
“Beaugissa, your place is behind Neugen.”
The Vascon warrioress grinned, “Good. If you had said behind Maleric… well let us say I still resent his constant wind.”
“Rappo, you are behind me.” Caros watched the young Masulian who looked so much smaller dismounted. There was no option for him to remain on horseback as they would all be fighting on foot.
A trumpet blew from the opposite side of the small valley and the Bastetani warriors heckled and hooted at the sound.
They had found the Romans that morning. Marching in bright columns down the main coastal road from Empúries to Tarraco, screened by a few dozen horsemen.
In the first moments the Roman horsemen, auxiliaries all, had fled the greater number of Bastetani riders who had not bothered to give chase. As Caros and the rest of the Bastetani entered the valley, the Romans had wheeled their columns into ranks across the road at the end of the valley. Their faultless maneuvering had impressed Caros anew and he had taken the time to allow his warriors to watch the Roman formations. He wanted them to see the solid unity of the enemy and think back to the demonstration with Dubgetious the evening before.
A wave of dust rose from the Roman lines.
“They are coming.” Maleric’s voice was so matter of fact that Caros wondered for a moment who the Gaul was referring to.
The Bastetani warriors had seen the movement in the ranks of Romans and they surged forward with a deep growl. For a terrible moment, Caros thought they would charge full length at the Romans.
“Hold!” He bellowed. “To the front.” He growled and pushed his way through the warriors ahead of him, his companions falling in beside and behind him.
Reaching the front rank at its center, he glanced left and right, his spear raised high. The graybeards raised their spears in response. The ranks of the Bastetani had disintegrated in that first immediate surge and they were now just a long band of armed men and woman, one hundred shields wide and ten deep.
Facing them, Caros estimat
ed four hundred Romans had formed into two distinct blocks separated by a span of two paces.
That the Romans remained and even advanced, spoke volumes about their regard for the Bastetani and of their confidence in their martial ability.
Caros kept his spear aloft, held horizontally above his head. The Romans were closing the distance with short quick strides, the line of each file as straight a line as you could hope to see.
In Caros’ mind he saw a flight of spears rising from the Roman ranks, just as had happened at the battle on the spur. They were just paces outside throwing distance now.
“Shields!” He called. The Bastetani shuffled and lifted their shields to their shoulders and Caros cringed.
“Get you shields up!” He roared.
Maleric and Neugen raised theirs above their heads and gestured for those around them to do the same. Many warriors laughed contemptuously, others spat and hefted their spears instead. A few raised their shields, but quickly lowered them when they were laughed at.
Caros blinked and shook his head. He should have foreseen that the warriors would stubbornly cling to the age-old patterns that had served them well in the past.
“Caros!” Maleric called.
Caros turned in time to see the Roman ranks heave as one and launch their spears.
He raised his shield higher, despite sharing the same compulsion the rest of the warriors had to stare down the incoming missiles.
The Roman spears lifted and seemed to turn to mist in hazy air. Then they were plunging down and immediately screams were ripped from Bastetani throats.
Caros sensed the onrush of spears subside and released his breath. He still held his own spear high and watched as the legionaries squared to throw another volley.
He spun his spear in his hand, braced his feet and swayed back, his arm extended behind him. Snapping his upper body forward, he used his left hip to pivot up and launch his throwing spear. He watched it wobble briefly before it settled into a smooth arcing flight.
The Bastetani warriors expelled a roar of aggression as they too hurled their spears. Already the second wave of Roman spears was clattering into armor or thumping through living flesh.
Caros drew his falcata. Unlike the Romans, many of the Bastetani had just a single spear and no sword. His warriors could not let loose volley after volley of iron javelins and Caros chaffed at the fact.
Bastetani warriors, stung by the Roman spears, surged forward on Caros’ left. The graybeards overtaken and unheeded. On the right, Dubgetious held his warriors and by that act, managed to restrain most of the right and center of the Bastetani lines.
Caros lifted his sword and punched it forward. He was a pace in front of his lines and as they advanced, he fell into step with them. The smell of piss was already strong. The coppery cloy of spilled blood stronger, but they outpaced the stink as they closed on the Romans.
They were thirty paces from the Roman lines when the Bastetani on the left, hit the Roman shields. The impact was thunderous, pounding through the air and quickly following the initial din came the screams of fury and clang of iron on iron.
The Romans halted while their right flank braced and absorbed the Bastetani attack on that side. At twenty paces from the enemy, Caros led the Bastetani center and right lines into a jog which quickly sped into an all-out charge. Caros braced himself and picked a Roman shield and its grim-faced bearer at random.
The wildest Bastetani warriors leapt at the Romans, trusting to their weight to knock their enemy back so they could plunge their blades into the guts and loins.
“Mind that sword!” Maleric grunted on his right.
Caros’ replied with his war cry and then crunched into the Roman’s shield with his own. Holding his sword at shoulder height, he stabbed it forward, but the Roman tilted his head away from the blade and spat in Caros’ face.
Maleric’s greater weight forced a legionary back, but with a grunt, the legionary in the second line shoved his comrade back into position.
Now the bloodletting began and Caros was forced to bat away thrust after thrust aimed from between the Roman shields.
“Spears!” He bellowed. Hard up against his back, he felt Rappo’s shield. The Masulian was too short to stab over Caros’ shoulders, so he drove a long war spear between Caros and Maleric. The sharp blade tore into a legionary’s shield, but was struck down by a sword at once. Caros was forced onto his back foot by a concerted push from the Romans. He felt a sword slip past his outer thigh and sensed it returning to take him in the loins.
With a savage growl, he chopped his falcata down and a gush of warmth splattered across his lower legs. The Roman’s eyes widened beneath the rim of his helm and Caros punched his blade viciously into the man’s face even as the legionary filled his lungs to scream at the pain.
Maleric roared and stabbed unendingly on Caros’ right while Neugen struggled to hold his shield firm against the enemy before him.
Caros kicked at the Roman’s shield as the man’s eyes rolled up into his head and he slumped backwards, leaving a narrow gap through which Caros caught the burning glare from vengeful Romans already pressing forward to close the gap.
The opportunity was too good to waste and Caros backhanded his falcata into the Roman wrestling for his shield with Maleric. The blow took the legionary over his lower ribs, cutting chain and thudding deep into the padding beneath. The Roman gasped in agony, his ribs snapping and liver swelling.
“Take him!” Caros screamed at Maleric and drove his falcata into Neugen’s opponent. The falcata’s curved point smashed the legionary’s shield arm.
Neugen gasped with relief and shoved the doomed legionary’s shield down. The Roman’s eyes widen with fear as piss darkened his tunic and stained his legs. With an incoherent cry, he threw his gladius at Neugen and tried to turn to flee. With a roar, Neugen leapt at the Roman, bringing his curved blade down on the legionary’s helm, sundering it and cleaving his skull with a killer blow.
Maleric finished his opponent, shattering his head with a ringing strike of his sword.
Already more of Rome’s legionaries were stepping forward and a wall of interlocked shields began to grind remorselessly against the three warriors’ own.
A gladius driven between Caros’ legs tripped him, but he quickly tramped his heavy sandal down on the blade. Another blade licked at his hip, forcing him to release the sword trapped underfoot and dodge away.
A roar from the legionaries was accompanied by a savage push, propelling all three warriors backwards. In just three sliding paces their form was lost and they were separated from one another. For the Romans who understood such melee tactics and drilled at them ceaselessly, this was enough.
Cursing and fighting for every step, Maleric was driven away to Caros’ right. Neugen too, fell back under the weight of incensed legionaries before tripping and crashing to the ground behind Caros.
With Neugen down, Beaugissa was caught staring across two paces of empty space into the bloodshot eyes of the Romans.
Caros flayed at the helms of the enemy, stabbing at gaps between their shields and roaring impotently as he was driven back, his sandals slipping and scrambling over blood-slickened rock.
He cried out a warning and a heartbeat later a powerful centurion slammed into his unprotected side. The charge, knocked Caros backwards, bowling him and Rappo both to the ground.
The Romans surged forward, their war cries coarse and laden with the promise of sharp steel and bloody carnage.
A gladius struck point first at Beaugissa. “Shield!” Caros screamed desperately. He lunged to put himself in front of her, but a shield boss slammed into his sword arm and threw him aside and into the hapless Bastetani warriors. As he slithered to his knees, he screamed again for her to bring her shield up.
A snarling Roman stepped forward, his sword pulled back, ready to plunge it into her unprotected throat. Knowing he was too late, Caros tore his fingernails loose and knees bloody on rocks and fallen blades as he sc
rambled to his feet and charged.
The Vascon warrioress’ eyes narrowed and with a lynx-like screech, she whipped her spear forward and across the Roman’s face. Where his eyes had been a heartbeat before, a gash of scored flesh and cartilage appeared.
“Caros! We are bested! We must break away!” Neugen, beaten and bloodied, grabbed his shoulder, hauling at him. Unthinking, Caros slammed his shield into his old friend knocking him loose. Eyes forward, Caros snarled at the advancing Romans and grabbed at the neck of Beaugissa’s cuirass. Without warning, he snatched her backwards and into his chest. Hands reached out from the Bastetani lines to steady him and he swiveled Beaugissa around and thrust her into their midst, beyond the reach of the Roman legionaries.
The thwarted enemy paced forward relentlessly though, their shields settling once again into an unbroken wall. Within half a dozen paces, they had covered the churned and bloody soil that was testimony to the first test of martial strength between Rome’s legionaries and Iberia’s warrior people.
Caros ran with the rest of the Bastetani. It was not a desperate panic driven route, but it was galling all the same. They covered twenty paces before Caros could make sense of the battle. The Bastetani on the left had bled badly, their premature assault costing them too many good warriors. When they had broken, the Roman block on the right had surged forward to take the Bastetani center in the flank.
Seasoned warriors there had seen the danger and managed to pull back the center.
Dubgetious and his warriors on the Bastetani right were making the Romans curse and bleed for every pace they took forward. Caros realized that it was the Bastetani champion’s stubborn effort that had caused the rest of the Roman line to slow their advance.
“Neugen! Line up every man with a good shield and sword at the front!” Caros turned and found Maleric growling in fury at the Romans. “Maleric, will you hold the center with Neugen?”
The big Gaul slapped his sword across the face of his shield. “A place of honor. I have a taste for their blood today.”
Gladius Winter Page 26