Hosker, G [Sword of Cartimandua 12] Roman Wall (20 page)

BOOK: Hosker, G [Sword of Cartimandua 12] Roman Wall
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His companions leapt over the bleeding giant who lay slumped on the floor.  Half of them raced up to the top of the tower while the other half flooded through the gates. They had broached the wall! As the warriors leapt up the ladder to deal with the last Romans above them Banquo ordered the horn to be sounded.  He would soon have another two hundred men at his command.  He had shown his brother. They could invade Britannia for no one stood in their way.

When Livius heard the horn sound he wondered what it meant. Metellus told him.  “Prefect, they are pulling back.”

Livius frowned.  It made no sense.  The attack on Cilurnum had been half hearted.  They had seen a cautious approach and watched as the Votadini had tried to clear the ditch.  When javelins and bolts fell amongst them they had fallen back. The horn had sounded from the west.  “Metellus go and look west. See if the Batavians are still at the turret and the mile castle.”

Julius had joined him. “That was too easy Livius.”

“It isn’t over, sir.” He pointed north.  “They lost barely forty men.  When have the tribes ever withdrawn after such light losses?”

“You are right.  I must be getting old.”

Metellus ran up.  “They have taken the turret and the mile castle to the west.  They are flooding south towards the vallum and the Stanegate.”

“Mount the ala.” As Metellus ran down the stairs Livius said, “We can catch them now sir.  They have forgotten the vallum.”

The vallum was the last part of the defences and was not complete.  It consisted of a raised pair of mounds and ditches.  The only way to cross them was at the forts.  The warriors racing south would find a new barrier in their way and it would slow them down.

“Very well.  We will hold them here.”

By the time Livius reached the southern gate the ala was ready.  All ten turmae were armed and ready to go. “I fear the mile castle to the east has fallen too but we will deal with these first. Hopefully the vallum will slow them up but just in case send Decurion Lentius and his turma to the other side of the vallum.  They can wait on the Stanegate for them.”

The two hundred and seventy men clattered out of the fort and wheeled west. “Column of turmae!”

Within moments there were nine lines of thirty troopers and they rode west towards the unsuspecting Votadini.

Banquo had lost over a hundred men; not all were dead but if it was not for the reinforcements from the aborted attack on Cilurnum he would not have had enough men to continue his raid. This was the flaw in his plan.  His brother had intended a number of strikes at the same time. Banquo was alone and isolated but all that he saw, as dawn began to break in the east, was the open lands before him. They would be able to strike at the soft underbelly of the rich farmland.

“On, my warriors.  Rome is there for the plucking!”

The first men who had left the fort now ran back towards Banquo.  “My lord.  There are more defences south of us.”

“Are they guarded?”

“No but they will be difficult to cross.”

“Nevertheless we will cross them! Are we women or are we warriors?  My sword has tasted Roman blood and it wants more.”

They were less than a hundred paces from the vallum when they heard the crash and thunder of hooves. They were coming from the fort to the east. Banquo could not believe his misfortune.  It was the Roman horse warriors again!

“Shield wall!”

Even though many of his men had no shields they bravely turned to face the line of steel which charged towards them. Those who had thought to steal a Batavian shield were the lucky ones for they could protect most of their bodies.  Banquo found himself in the fifth rank of the mass of men who faced the line of thirty horse men.  Banquo felt his confidence return. They outnumbered these horse warriors.

As Metellus, Livius and the 1
st
Turma struck the Votadini warriors Banquo found how wrong he could be. The thirty two spears all found a target.  They were twisted tugged and they stabbed again.  Before the Votadini could react the first line had wheeled away and a second line hurtled in.  Meanwhile the first line had reformed to the south of the Votadini and their javelins were falling amongst them. They were preventing them from moving south and out flanking the warband. By the time the sixth turma has struck most of the Votadini had had enough and many began to run back to the wall. The trickle turned into a flood.

“My lord, we must leave or we will die here too!”

He did not wish to but he could see that he had been thwarted once again. His oathsworn formed a ring around the young warrior as they shepherded him back to the fort. Pausing only to loot the dead bodies of the auxiliaries in the mile castle the Votadini climbed the wall and returned to their camp.  They were chastened.  They had had a victory of sorts but it had cost them dear.

The Prefect had no time to pursue the defeated warriors.  “Reform the ala.  Sound the recall.  We must get to the eastern mile castle.”

There they found their task easier.  Although breached some of the Batavians still held out in the tower and only thirty or so had managed to begin their southern journey.  As the sun finally climbed over the eastern horizon, the last of the Votadini left the wall and retreated north.  The wall had suffered its first breach but it had held.

 

Far to the south Briac and Elidr had joined the warriors surrounding Morbium.  The plan had been for the Brigante to secure the valley and then seal it off.  That would now have to wait. If they captured Morbium then they would control their own land for the first time in three generations.

Their only losses had been at the farm. Although personally grievous they had not diminished their fighting power.  Severus waited with the rest of the Brigante and the well armed gang of deserters he had gathered about him.  Briac and his men had to ford the river to reach them on the northern bank.

Severus’ face was non committal as the wounded Briac approached him. “We did not take the farm.  The horse warriors came to their aid.”

Severus nodded.  There was, perhaps, a malicious gleam in his eye but his voice was neutral.  “The priestess will not be happy but when we have taken this fort then we can turn our attentions to this farm which seems to have such importance.” The soldier in Severus could not understand why Flavia and Caronwyn wanted the farm so desperately destroyed.  He wanted to eliminate the military targets and then they could pick off the civilians at their leisure.

Severus suddenly seemed to take in Briac’s words. “You say it was the horse warriors?” Briac nodded.  “Which ones?”

Briac could not remember what had been upon their shields and he looked at Elidr who was still brooding about his son. “Does it matter?  They all look the same and fight the same way.”

Severus laughed a cruel laugh, “That is where you are wrong and I can see now why you have been beaten so many times.” He ignored the angry reaction of some of the Brigante. He spoke the truth. “If this is Marcus’ Horse then it affects our plans.  With those in the area we are in trouble.  If, on the other hand, it is the Thracians, then we have little to fear.  The Selgovae knocked them about a little last year.”

The faces of the Brigante showed little comprehension. They had heard of Marcus’ Horse; they were renowned but they had assumed that all Roman auxiliaries were the same.

“I know not who they were.”

“No matter. Will you put your men under my command, Prince Briac?”

Briac’s arm was aching and his confidence was shaken.  Perhaps it would be better to allow a Roman to destroy a Roman fort. He nodded. “I will.”

“Good.” He looked at the mailed warriors standing around him.  These were the leaders. “These are my orders.  You will do all as I say.  If you do so then we will win.”

 

Centurion Vibius Marcus Coccius had seen the smoke rising from the south west.  He had worried about the farm ever since dawn.  The Thracian patrol had spoken of bands of Brigante rampaging through the land.  The decurion had told him that there were many burning farms both north and south of him. Since the extra century had been sent to the fort the Batavian centurion had been happier but now he realised that he could be the next target.  The messenger from Eboracum had told of the disaster there and they had had no news from the north. The omens were not good. The wall was under attack too.

The sentry on the northern gate called to him, “Sir, soldiers coming from the north.”

He moved eagerly to the gate.  Perhaps the Legate had received the news of Eboracum and was reinforcing the forts.  It was about time. He saw the column of forty men as they marched down the road towards the fort. He realised that they were legionaries.  That was even better. He had thought that all of the VI
th
had left the wall long ago.  This must have been a vexillation left there.  He frowned when he saw that they had no signifer.  That was unusual.  Still they were obviously the legion for they marched smartly in that easy rhythm of veterans. However he had been on the frontier long enough not to take anything for granted. He looked up at the tower. “Can you see anyone else?  Are there any further along the road?”

“No, Centurion Coccius.”

“Right. Ready at the gate.”

He descended the ladder.  Perhaps this handful of reinforcements meant he could check on the farm.  He owed Marcus’ Horse many favours. He would hate to think of the family being in peril.

He did not recognise the centurion who marched in at the head of the men. That was not a surprise as the VI
th
was a full strength legion. The vexillation stopped smartly on command. “Centurion Severus Catullus, second cohort, sixth century, reporting with a vexillation on route to Eboracum.”

“Does the Legate know about Eboracum then?”

“I don’t know, Centurion.  I just follow orders.”

Coccius did not like this arrogant centurion.  He was like all of the regulars; he thought himself better than the auxiliaries. “Well we have a spare barracks for the night.  It is the one over there.”

Even as he was pointing the sentry from the southern gate shouted.  “Alarm! Brigante!”

The sentry on the northern gate shouted, “Brigante to the north!”

Centurion was about to order the gates to be closed when the gladius slid into his back. He looked in horror at the Roman centurion who had just stabbed him. Severus’s men ran to the two gates.  They killed the sentries there and held open the gates. The two testudoes they formed ensured that the Batavians would not be able to easily remove them.

Elidr led his warriors eager for revenge and they flooded through the two gates.  The heavily outnumbered Batavians were slaughtered to a man.  Their bolt throwers were ineffective and their centurions lay dead.  A brave young optio and a few Batavians held the Praetorium for a few minutes longer than Severus would have liked but then they too were killed.  Morbium fell and the Legate and the men on the wall were completely cut off.

 

Chapter 15

Marcus and his men had reached their patrol area.  It was in the land of the Selgovae.  They were just twenty miles north of the wall and close to an old deserted Roman fort from the time of Agricola.  These wooden structures had been hurriedly built to protect the auxiliaries as they tamed the wild frontier. Although the walls had been destroyed and most of the buildings removed the ditches and a couple of roofless wooden rooms survived. Marcus used it for it was defensible and in a prime position.  It would make a good base for the next four days.

They had not seen any signs of Selgovae but he had sent Felix and Wolf off to scout for any evidence further afield. They lit no fires and ate cold rations.  They were hardy men and it was preferable to a fire and the attention of the barbarians.

Rufius had taken the land bordering the Novontae and Marius, as a newly promoted decurion, was between them. The three were close enough to each other for mutual support. With the horses taken care of and the food eaten Marcus began to sharpen his sword.  It was a nightly activity.  A blunt sword was like swinging an iron bar. Chosen Man Gnaeus and the signifer, Titus, joined him. They were the three officers from the turma and the troopers gave them space to talk.

Gnaeus had a piece of gristle from the cold meat he had just eaten stuck between his teeth.  He picked at it with his pugeo.  “With all due respect, sir, I am not sure that the Prefect has made the right decision. Wouldn’t we be better behind the wall and hitting them when they cross?  It’s why the wall was built.”

“And normally you would be right Gnaeus but with the Brigante on the loose we might be caught between two rocks. I know what you are saying; we are but thirty one men and we are trying to stop hundreds of barbarians from getting over the wall but think of it from the viewpoint of a Selgovae. If you are attacking the wall then you assume your rear is safe. You have a safe way home. Suppose you are attacked?  It doesn’t matter how many men there are attacking you there will be a doubt when you race to the wall or when you fight the Batavian. Those hesitations can cost a man his life.  We know that.”

Titus nodded, “You could be right sir but this is not cavalry country is it; dense, bloody forests and steep valleys.”

“Yes, you are right but there are just thirty one of us.  We can ride in a column of twos and escape through the woods if we need to.”

One of the sentries suddenly shouted, “Who goes there?”

The growling of Wolf told Marcus who it was.  “It is the scout.  Let him pass.”

Felix was grinning as he jogged past the sentry.  Wolf kept a suspicious eye on him as he slouched after his master.  “I am sorry sir.  I made as much noise as I could so that the sentry would not be afraid but he only saw me when I was twenty paces from him.”

Marcus had kept some rations for Felix and Wolf.  “Here eat first and then make your report.”

The three of them watched as Felix devoured his food.  Wolf waited.  As soon as Felix had finished he said, “Eat.” The dog lived up to its name and wolfed it down.

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