Hosker, G [Sword of Cartimandua 09] Hero of Rome

by Griff Hosker

  “As soon as we reach it dismount and prepare to receive cavalry. I do not want to be picked off as we try to get to the ships and, Loegaire, you must make sure that our gold is safely secured. I do not want to lose it this close to safety.”

  ******

  Angus was a hard task master. “Come on you sons of whores. We have but a few miles to go and we will reach the safety of the pass.”

  Ceol was a huge bully of a warrior and he had had enough of being ordered around by Morwenna’s pet thug. He came from the north west of Hibernia and he had seen most of his friends die. Now there was just himself and three others left from the original group. He had come to Britannia for glory and plunder and, apart from one or two occasions, it had been retreat and disgrace that they had endured. He had had enough and he knew that many of the others had had enough.

  “No! I say we fight the Romans here. We run no more!”

  Angus heard the murmurings from some of the others who were disaffected and knew that this had all the hallmarks of a revolt. He nodded and walked over to Ceol. They were about the same height but Angus was older, the first wisps of grey flecking his beard. “So you would fight horsemen. On foot?”

  Ceol laughed. “There are trees and forests where the Romans cannot ride but I can run. I am not an old man who is afeared.”

  Approaching him Angus too laughed. “It is true that I am older than you Ceol but in that I have wisdom and unfortunately for you I do not have that other trait which is patience.” In one well practised move he took his two handed sword from its scabbard over his back and took off the head of Ceol who was already forming his reply. He saw the two men behind the dead Ceol begin to reach for their weapons and with two strokes they lay dead.

  “Now does anyone else wish to challenge this old man or will you obey me?” There was a sullen silence. Ceol had been a fierce warrior but he had been killed as easily as a helpless child. “We will fight today, believe me but we will fight where it suits us. When we reach the pass the Romans will be at a disadvantage and we can turn on them and kill many of them. Then we will travel to the coast and, after a rest at my home of Manavia, you will all travel home to Hibernia, rich men.” Even the most truculent of rebels realised that their goal had always been to kill Romans and become richer. They could achieve that with Angus and they banged their weapons on their shields to show they agreed.

  *******

  “Sounds like they are happy about something?”

  “Yes Marcus but I wonder what? You take the point today and keep your blade in their backs. We reach the pass this morning and I hope that Metellus is still there.” Cassius was worried by the lack of news from the pass. He had asked his friend to do an impossible task. The cunning of his enemy had thrown the Decurion Princeps’ plans into disarray and he did not know what he would find at the pass. “Did you speak with your brother?”

  Marcus looked away, unable to meet Cassius’ stare. “I did and he will now follow orders. There will be no more outbursts I can promise you.”He shrugged apologetically, “I think he just wants to fight.”

  “Well today he will get his wish. Believe me.” He pointed west. “The land begins to rise and there are no trees. We will be able to use our speed there. Keep pushing.”

  Once the warband saw the pass, rising like a scar in the distance, their spirits too rose. They could see the barrier created by Creagth and felt relief. Soon they would turn like a cornered wild boar and tear these dogs to shreds. Angus had been right they just had to be patient.

  High in the pass Metellus spirits fell just as quickly as his enemies rose. He did not have enough men to defend the pass. There were hundreds of warriors approaching. They were like a black cloud moving across the land. Behind them he could see the distinctive shapes of the ala but he knew that there could only be seven turmae there and they would not be at full strength. The best he could hope was that he could slow them down and whittle their numbers to enable Cassius to catch them. “Take every weapon you can and withdraw up the hill.” He could see the disappointment in their faces but it was more important to protect what they had saved so far and not risk all in a glorious but, ultimately useless sacrifice. The twenty two of them limped up to the rock filled hillside; each trooper working with another and hiding behind whatever cover they could find. “The ala is coming but it will do them no good to find our corpses and those of our charges littering the hillside. Our task is to slow them down and thin them out. If I fall then withdraw slowly to the captives. They are our prime concern!”

  The grim faced troopers glanced up the hill; those women could be their sisters and mothers. They knew that their comrades’ sacrifice would have been in vain if they fell into the raiders’ hands once more. One of the older hands shouted anonymously, “We’ll not let you down sir!”

  As the warband approached the foot of the pass Cassius became uneasy. There was a wise head guiding these warriors for they did not race up the steep slope to the improvised barrier but they halted and two hundred men turned to face the ala, now five hundred paces away, and formed a shield wall. Lucius rode next to Cassius, “What are they doing sir? Are they going to charge us?”

  “No Lucius. Unless I miss my guess they are stopping us from charging but the question is why? We have made no attempt to do so yet. Tell me Lucius can you see our men on the barrier?”

  Lucius scanned the stone built blockage. “No sir, there are men lying down in… no sir there are bodies in front of the barrier.”

  “Ours?” Trepidation oozed from that one word.

  “No sir, barbarians. There sir. On the hillside I can see some red crests, but there are only a few of them.”

  “That is why they have halted then Lucius. The bulk of the army will dispose of the wall and the others will stop us from attacking them.”

  “But they will get away sir!” Even Lucius could see that, once the band passed the col, they would be safe.

  “I know son, which is why we have to get rid of these warriors.” He turned to the ala. It was much depleted. With a notional roll call of seven turmae he should have been able to field over two hundred troopers. With the casualties they had taken he had less than a hundred and eighty fit men available. Their route was lined with wounded men awaiting their successful return. “Men, I know that you are tired and we have ridden far in the past days but we need to dislodge those warriors from the entrance to the pass. We have not the time, nor the ammunition to whittle them down with javelins and arrows so we will have to use cunning. I will lead an attack on the centre, Lucius and Antoninus will support. We will try to draw their fire first. When I give the signal then we will retreat. I believe they will try to follow us and when they do then, Rufius and Calgus, you can take your men and harass the left of their line but do not commit. Macro and Marcus you have the harder task. I want you to attack their right when the centre surges forward. It is where they are the weakest and you are the best swordsmen. You will need to dismount and fight afoot. Rufius when you see them shift to their right then go in harder and I will swing around to support Macro and Marcus.” All of the troopers banged their shields making the rearguard look upon them with a little more interest. “You two,” he addressed the two brothers directly but looked particularly at Macro, “fight hard but not recklessly. We still have to defeat the bulk of the warband on the pass and I need every trooper I have.”

  It was Marcus who answered for the two of them. “We will sir. We have a nephew we would like to see on our next leave and tell him the tale of how we destroyed an Irish Warband and rescued the Brigante slaves!”

  The warband was led by an Ebdani called Carn. He was proud to have been chosen by Angus for this task. Unlike many of his tribe he respected the older warrior. He knew that he had done exceptionally well to get so many warriors here in the face of this determined Roman opposition. He had placed himself at the centre of the wall with his oath brothers around him. He had no doubt about the fidelity of the rest but he wanted the reassurance th
at those around him would give their lives defending the line. He watched as the steady line of Romans approached. He noticed with interest that it appeared to be a wedge formation with the red crested leader and the standard bearer in front of a double line of twelve troopers, behind which was a double line that appeared to be twice as long as the first. He nodded, pleased. He would have the honour of taking the first blow. He roared out, “Lock shields and every warrior interlocked his shield with his neighbour, keeping his weapon above the shield wall to strike any unarmoured place. Behind them were the men with double handed axes, their shields slung over their backs. They would sweep over the heads of those in front, all of whom would drop to their knees on Carn’s command.

  Some of those in the front rank began to tremble slightly as the ground shook with the thunder of the horses. Out of the corner of his eye Carn could see the rest of the cavalry moving forwards a little slower. He smiled to himself, the brave ones were in the middle and the others would flee once their leader was down; it would fall to him to kill the leader. “Brace and prepare to drop!” The horses were thirty paces away. When they were but twenty away he roared, “Drop!” and the line fell to its knees. At exactly the same time the line of horses stopped and a volley of javelins fell amongst the men with axes who were about to decapitate the horses. Carn cursed the dishonour of warriors who would not fight man to man. “Up!” The second lines approached and did the same but this time their javelins thudded into shields and not flesh. Carn noticed that the rest of the Romans had stopped to watch. Cowards. As the Romans in front of him reformed, the line braced itself. An idea came into his head. When the Romans threw their javelins and turned they were vulnerable. He turned to his oath brothers. “When they turn this time we charge them and kill their leader.”

  The angry axe men who had lost some of their fellows heard his instructions and roared, “We’re behind you.”

  This time the line threw fewer javelins and, as they turned the line suddenly bulged as the Hibernians chased after Cassius and his troopers. The speed of the warriors took the Decurion Princeps by surprise and he had to kick his mount on quickly to avoid being caught. The turmae of Antoninus and Lucius were also surprised by the unexpected charge and three of the horses were hacked by the axe men with the wickedly sharp double handed blades. The troopers were despatched ruthlessly. The feigned retreat became real as the two turmae raced away from the vicious blades.

  On the flanks the waiting barbarians took heart from this easy victory and relaxed. Their shields were no longer locked as they waited for their chance to charge. Suddenly they saw the two turmae approaching and knew what to expect. They did not drop to their knees but they all raised their shields slightly to protect more of their thin line. Macro and Marcus’ turmae flew steeply into the air as they jumped the waiting warriors and they fell, almost vertically amongst the second and third ranks. Then, most surprising of all, half the troopers before them jumped from their mounts and charged on foot. Many of the raiders in the front ranks who had survived still had shields about their faces and the first that they knew of an attack was when their bellies were ripped open. On the Hibernian left, they watched the two lines of troopers approaching them and they braced for a volley of javelins. Instead, Rufius’ and Calgus’ turmae unslung their bows and began to pick off men in the centre of the line, striking their unarmoured backs.

  When Carn realised he had been deceived he shouted, “Back in line! Lock shields.” The men in the centre and the left did so easily, presenting a solid wall of wood and iron but, on the right, their cohesion had gone and the line began to crumble from the side assaulted by the turmae. Those mounted troopers, still holding their companion’s horses began hurling javelins at the warriors who were fighting Macro and Marcus.

  The blood lust was on the brothers as they felt the line crumbling and Marcus chose his moment well. “Forward! The Sword of Cartimandua!” With a roar the two turmae charged even more fiercely and the barbarians were dismayed as they heard the name of the blade roared.

  Carn could see that the integrity of the shield wall was compromised and he shouted, “Fall back!”

  Rufius and Cassius charged with their turmae hurling javelins as the disorganised barbarians tried to avoid the horses’ hooves and make it up the ever narrowing pass. Those who tried to scramble over the fell side were easy targets for Rufius’ archers whilst Macro and Marcus were still rolling up the line as they faced men on their unarmoured side. The rearguard was haemorrhaging and bleeding warriors.

  Angus looked admiringly at the barrier erected by the Romans; it showed a cunning mind for the barbarians were infuriated when they saw their dead friends and comrades’ ravaged bodies piled up like the carcasses of animals. “Pull down the barrier!” They looked at him in horror as though he had asked them to do something horrendously sacrilegious. When they hesitated he pointed down the pass, “Your brothers are dying down there so that we can escape this trap!” Spurred on they began to tumble the bodies down the steep sides of the pass. Suddenly those at the front were plucked from the top as Metellus’ archers picked them off. Angus was becoming increasingly impressed with the stubborn defenders but enough was enough.

  “You men! Protect the workers with your shields. You twenty get up the slopes and dislodge these archers.” They hesitated again.” Fools there cannot be more than a handful. Go!” Angus glanced over his shoulder; he could see Carn’s fighting retreat and he could also see the trail of bodies which marked their passage.

  On the slopes Metellus had begun to hope that they might, against the odds, actually get out of this alive. He had watched in admiration as the ala had destroyed the shield wall and taken so few casualties; now as he heard the tumble of rocks he knew that they were the next target. “One in each pair, take the arrows and keep firing; the other prepare to defend against swordsmen.” He gave his quiver to the trooper next to him and hefted his sword. His leg was still stiff and, if he moved too much, then it would burst open making not only Sextus but also Nanna, very unhappy. They did have the advantage of height and he replaced his sword in its scabbard and took instead one of the spears they had recovered from the barbarian camp.

  The warrior making his way up the slope saw the bandage on Metellus’ leg and grinned. His first kill would be an easy one and he moved towards the decurion. It would have been easy for Metellus to throw the spear and kill the man but then he would have lost his weapon so he allowed the man to come closer. The barbarian swung his sword at Metellus’ good leg and, hopping over the scything blade Metellus plunged the spear into the man’s unprotected neck. The dead man soundlessly fell and then his body rolled down the steep slope gaining speed as it did so. The dead man killed one of his comrades when his body took the man’s legs from under him and he crashed over those destroying the barrier and tumbled to a rocky death.

  The barrier of bodies was no more and Angus began to order his men to demolish the stones. The rearguard was now less than forty paces away but the Roman progress had been slowed by the narrowness of the pass. At the point where the two forces met was a deadly conflict between Carn and his oath brothers and Marcus and Macro and the oathsworn of the sword. The brothers were finding it more difficult as the barbarians had the high ground but their superior weapons and armour gave them the edge. Ironically it was the axe men with the superior reach who were the raiders downfall for, once swung, the momentum left them open for an upwards stab of the blade. The Roman helmets also saved many lives as blows from swords, to the head, merely stunned them and there was always another Roman to take his place. Cassius could see however that the front rank was tiring and he gave a command which he knew Macro would hate but he hoped he would obey.

  “Ready Rufius?”

  “Sir!”

  “Front rank rotate!”

  Instantly obeying the front rank disengaged and stepped backwards as Rufius’ men replaced them. Carn yelled, “Cowards!” but none of Macro’s men spoke Gaelic and merely walked back to th
e rear of the line. Macro shot a dirty look at Cassius but he obeyed.

  The change had an instant effect. Some of Rufius’ men still had javelins and the extra length proved effective. Carn was screaming in rage. These Romans had no honour and would not fight as men. He swore that when this was over he would return one day to wreak his revenge on these Romans.

  Further up the pass Angus had finally succeeded in breaking through the wall but it was not wide enough for all of them. He shouted to the men who had dismantled it, “Get through and build a defence over there. We will be through soon!“ To the rest he shouted, “We are nearly through. I want this barrier gone! Now!” The men redoubled their efforts as they saw how close they were to success and, in a shorter time than one would have expected the barrier was gone. Angus grabbed his horn and blew an enormous blast upon it. Every warrior knew that it mean retreat and they disengaged and ran as fast as they could through the gap. One or two of Carn’s men, their bloodlust up kept fighting, enabling more of their colleagues to flee but it was in vain as they were cut down. When Cassius reached the site of the wall he looked up and saw a bloodied Metellus waving to him. They had the job half done; now it was time to complete it.

  Both sides were bloodied and exhausted. They had fought all day and the sun was already beginning to set giving the air an even cooler feel than it had in the valleys. Cassius ordered Calgus’ turma to form a defensive line while the rest began to build a crude wall in lieu of the traditional wooden camp. “Rufius check our casualties and set up a station for the capsarii beneath that rocky overhang. Marcus set up a picket line for the horses and see to their feed.” Marcus gave him a quizzical look; where would he get feed? Cassius shrugged.

  When they felt the scurry of rocks tumbling from above, every man’s hand went to his weapons but they smiled with relief when they saw that it was Metellus and his men leading their horses and the captives down the treacherous slope. Cassius turned to Rufius, “It looks as though the expedition has not been a total disaster.”