Hosker, G [Sword of Cartimandua 11] Roman Treachery (17 page)

A heavy atmosphere hung over the gate as the two groups stared at each other.  It was the first time either had seen their enemies when they were not intent on death. They were able to look and examine them. To the auxiliaries the barbarians seemed fierce but vulnerable.  The ordinary soldiers identified the lack of armour and the many weak spots their blades would find.  The barbarians wondered at the soldier’s courage, or lack of it, that they needed to hide behind stone walls and wear such awkward armour.  To the Votadini it just proved that the Roman soldier was an enemy who could be defeated easily once he was prised from his wall.

Julius Demetrius eventually arrived having put on his full armour. He had paused to tell the duty centurion what he intended and what he wanted him to do. When he reached the bridge gate he shouted to the optio.  “Open the gate I will go and speak with them.”

“Sir? Isn’t that dangerous? They might take you hostage too.”

Julius gave a wry smile.  “Son, I have been fighting these barbarians since you were sucking your mother’s tit.  They have come to talk but if it makes you feel any happier then aim your bolt throwers at them eh?”

“Open the gate.” As the men opened the gate and the tent party aimed the bolt thrower the optio said, “He’s a game ‘un.  I’ll give him that.  Mad as a fish but game.”

Julius strode across the bridge and Iucher said, grudgingly, “This is a warrior.”

Julius saluted, “Hail, Iucher and you,” he looked at the Brigante, “you are Brigante. Are you the one who took the girl??”

Briac nodded.  “I am he, old one. My name is Briac.  We have the hostage.  We took her from the fort in the south.”

Julius nodded, “And?”

Briac looked confused. “And we want to exchange her for the prisoners you took.” He pointed at Iucher.  “The chief’s son and the other ones.”

“Those prisoners are surety against your good behaviour. Taking a hostage from the Governor’s residence is not classed as good behaviour by the Emperor.  I am afraid that one of the hostages will have to die.” He held up his hand. His guards appeared at the top of the gate holding one of the hostages. The centurion put a noose around the youth’s neck. “Unless the hostage is returned to this fort by sunset I will execute one prisoner each morning, beginning with this one.”

Iucher laughed, “You would not do this.”

In answer Julius dropped his arm and the youth was thrown from the gate.  The crack of his neck was so loud it sounded loudly even above the torrent of water rushing beneath. The barbarians all grabbed their weapons. “Before you compound your error look at the wall behind me. “ The small party looked up to see twenty archers and two bolt throwers all aiming their weapons at them.

Iucher angrily thrust his sword back into its scabbard.  “This is not over Roman and I will eat your heart while you watch for this treacherous act. This I swear!”

As they galloped back towards their forest camp, Iucher knew that he would never see his son alive again.  The Romans were ruthless but he would bring the girl back to this very spot and have his men rape her where the Romans could watch and then he would have her dismembered.  He would show them that he was a true leader who paid back acts in kind.  This day marked the beginning of the end for Rome.

When he reached the gate Julius glanced up at the body dangling from the gate.  The centurion asked, “Should I cut him down sir?”

“No leave his there as a reminder to the Votadini that our word is law.”

As the legate entered the gate the centurion turned to the optio,”Well lads it will get a little smelly here before too long.”

The optio pointed to the birds already gathering at the forest edge. “I wouldn’t worry too much sir. The birds around here will soon get rid of him, they are hungry buggers and they don’t care who gives them the food!”

Rufius and his turmae had spent the night camped close to the Sixth Legion’s camp. The Selgovae were somewhere ahead and it had not seemed prudent to Rufius to go wandering in after dark.  He and First Spear discussed their options. “Have we any idea how many Selgovae there are?”

“No decurion. We know, from the survivor of the Gallic cohort who made it here, that they have over run the wall and surrounded the vexillation.  To hear the survivors talk the army is the size of Boudicca’s but I suspect they are exaggerating.”

Both men knew that the ones who were stouter and had stood would have given a more accurate description and the fact that they had escaped spoke of their terror and fear which inevitably meant every barbarian became ten. “Even so my hundred and fifty men will be outnumbered. “

“All me and my lads need you to do is find the buggers, stop them escaping and we will do the rest.”

“Oh we can find them.  We will leave now and head west.  I will send a messenger back when we have them.  How many are you bringing?”

“We have four centuries of Gauls here.  I will leave them to guard the camp.” He sniffed in a derisory fashion showing his opinion of the Gauls. “They would be about as much use as a one legged man in an arse kicking contest.”

“You don’t rate them then?”

“Your lads are all right. They have proved it over again but my men still hold out.  These ran. Get my point. Anyway I will bring the First Cohort, eight hundred men.  If they can’t deal with them then we might as well pack up and go home.”

Rufius shook his head.  He had yet to meet anyone from a legion who did not think he could defeat the barbarians single handed. “We’ll be off then.”

Rufius sent out his best scouts to range ahead while the turmae, all five of them, rode in a column of four.  He wanted to be able to deploy into line as a soon as possible. His direction was obvious for there was a pall of smoke to the north west.  The Selgovae were still burning the wooden gates and destroying the recently constructed parts of the wall. The first scout returned.

“Sir.  The camp is surrounded and they are attacking its walls.” He pointed behind him.  “About a mile up the Stanegate sir.”

“Right Gaius, get to the Sixth and tell First Spear.  We will try to discourage them.” As his scout rode off Rufius turned to the turmae. “Get your javelins ready we are going to charge the Selgovae as soon as we see them.  Attack by turma.  Charge, throw the javelin and then wheel behind the next turma.” Marcus Aurelius had devised the tactic as a variation on the Cantabrian circle.  It kept a constant rain of missiles and the troopers did not tire as much.

Rufius led the way, his grey eating up the road as he rode along at a steady lope. He could hear the noise of the battle and see the smoke rising from the places where the Selgovae had started fires. They had arrived none too soon. “Third Turma, deploy into line.” Rufius had one of the two buccinas in the ala and he turned to the signifier who carried the instrument. “Sound the charge.  We might as well let them know we are coming.  It will give hope to the poor buggers in the camp.”

As the strident notes echoed across the Stanegate the thirty two men galloped forwards in a single line.  Had they not sounded the charge then they might have caught the Selgovae at the rear with their backs to them but Rufius wanted the pressure relieved if he could. A line of Selgovae turned to face them and they began loosing arrows.  A charging line is a hard target to hit and every trooper knew how to use his shield to best effect. Most arrows flew harmlessly overhead and those that struck hit the large scuta each man carried. When they were forty paces away Rufius roared, “Loose!” Even as they threw their javelins he shouted, ”Wheel left!” Every trooper executed a smart turn as the next turma charged in and repeated the manoeuvre. As Rufius rode back he saw that the arrows were more accurate and some of his troopers and horses lay on the field.

“Reform!” His turma formed a line again and each man took out his next javelin.  The brief respite had rested the horses but Rufius knew that this charge would be slower and they would be more likely to take casualties.  “Charge!”

Galloping forwards he was pleased to see the field littered with barbarian bodies and noted with grim satisfaction that the walls were no longer being assaulted as the Selgovae turned their whole force against the horse warriors. This time the Selgovae had improvised a shield wall from behind which their archers and slingers could hurl missiles at the charging horsemen. Many of the troopers’ javelins smacked into the Selgovae shields while the troopers themselves, began to take casualties.  Rufius could see that he had done all he could.  “Sound recall!”

The other turmae were not in range and they pulled back to their start point.  The Selgovae began to bang their shields in exultation.  They had defeated, or so they thought, the vaunted Marcus’ Horse. “Roll call!”

The horses were ready for the rest and the capsarii began to treat the wounds sustained by the survivors of the charge. All of the troopers kept their attention firmly focussed on the barbarians for they were known to be fleet of foot and could cover the ground to them very quickly. The single minded Selgovae, however, resumed their assault on the camp.

The decurion from the Tenth Turma, Septimus, reported. “Sir the vexillation has lost ten troopers and we have eight wounded.  None of them serious.”

“Good.  Septimus, take your turma beyond the Stanegate and warn of any barbarians joining the fray from the forest.” Rufius could still see the smoke from the north which meant there were still war bands on the loose.  The last thing First Spear would need would be to be attacked from his flank while relieving the siege.

The messenger galloped up.  “The First Cohort is half a mile away sir.”

“Good.”  He turned to the remaining four turmae. “Form a single line.”

One of the younger recruits said, in a worried voice, “We going to charge again sir?”

Rufius smiled while his chosen man glowered at the unfortunate recruit.  “No son, not yet but I want them to think we are and I want to hide the legion from them until the last possible moment.”

The trooper grinned, “That’s all right then!”

Chosen Man roared, “And it will be all right for you son when you are cleaning the shit out of the stables for a nundinal!”

The Selgovae still kept a wary watch on the horsemen but they could see that the Romans were not a threat so long as they kept a wall of shields before them. Their axes began to tear chunks out of the wooden walls which topped the mound of earth that marked the camp boundary.  The centurion within, had had his hopes raised when he had heard the buccina and seen the charge and the respite had enabled him to reorganise his defences and have his wounded seen to.  Now, as he heard the axes biting into the wood he wondered how long they would last.

First Spear appeared behind Rufius.  He nodded at the line.  “Good idea.”Stepping next to the decurion he surveyed the scene. “It looks like we got here in time. If you stop them escaping we will take it from here.”

“Will do!”

Behind them the centurions were arranging the centuries in blocks so that there appeared to be six arrow heads peering from the line. Rufius had seen the tactic before and it worked very effectively, giving the attack of a point and the security of a shield wall. “Marcus’ Horse, wheel right.  Column of twos.”

As the horsemen moved off the watching Selgovae wondered why they were leaving.  When they saw the eight hundred legionaries advancing quickly towards them they knew the reason.  In the camp the centurion knew they would survive; it was the First Cohort.  They were the finest soldiers in the legion and they were coming directly for the Selgovae with revenge imprinted on their faces. The warband chief could see that the threat from the legion was more dangerous than that of the horse soldiers but they had seen off one attack; this second would not be a problem.  Taking his war axe in his hand he roared his forwards, exhorting them to charge the advancing Roman line.

First Spear almost licked his lips in anticipation. If they wanted to die quickly then so be it. “Pila! Loose!” Four hundred spears flew through the air and stopped the Selgovae charge in an instant. The heavy spears either struck the few shields rendering them useless or punched the warrior backwards, immobilising them if it did not kill them. Over three hundred warriors were taken out of action in an instant. The First Cohort gave them no chance to recover and they marched quickly into the attack. The second volley of pila flew beyond the ragged and disorganised front line to decimate the ranks behind while the gladii of the legionaries began to hack and slash at the unprotected bodies of the wild Selgovae. The war chief fell in the first attack and the warriors began to lose heart.  They had started their attack so well and the Romans had fled the field but now they had nowhere to run.

Septimus’ messenger found Rufius.  “Sir the decurion says there is a warband coming from the forest. There look to be over four hundred of them.”

“Tell him to delay them and we are coming.” He turned to the trooper behind him.  “Ride to the First Spear, tell him there is another warband coming from the forest.  We will try to slow them down a little.”

“Turmae.  Form two lines.” The remaining troopers formed two lines behind Rufius. “Forwards!”

It was but a few paces beyond the Stanegate when they saw Septimus’ turma retreating and then charging to throw their javelins. Rufius knew that it was effective but exhausting. He turned to the signifier.  “Sound recall!”

As soon as the turma heard it they galloped quickly back to the rest of the ala. “Charge!” The warband was hot on the trail of the turma and charging blindly.  Rufius’ men left gaps for the survivors of Septimus’ turma to pass through and then they struck the warband.  There was no volley of javelins; they all threw at the nearest target and then they drew their long cavalry swords. The warband had run from their attack on the wall and were not a cohesive unit but they outnumbered the auxiliaries by five to one and Rufius knew that they could not fight them for long.  He slashed and stabbed on either side of the grey’s head.  His mount helped by trampling and kicking all who came within range of its deadly hooves. A spear was thrown at him and his instincts took over as he raised his shield and it glanced off. He stabbed down at the two men trying to strike his horse.  It was time for a withdrawal.  “Sound the retreat!”