Legatus Legionis: Book Two in the Gaius Claudius Scaevola Trilogy (38 page)

"I'll kill my girl before you pigs get her . . ."

"Stop!" Gaius yelled again. The Celt, strangely enough, did lower the hammer. "There's no need to kill anyone."

"My daughter's not going to be your . . ."

"There's no need for that either," Gaius said simply. "Let me be clear about something," Gaius said, turning to the villagers. "If you wish to fight Rome, you will be enslaved, the men can be games fodder, and the women, well, he's guessed," Gaius said, pointing back to the Celt. "On the other hand, agree now to accept Roman occupation, pay a tribute, and you may continue living."

"Under Rome," someone said.

"True," Gaius said, "but how many of you get killed each year in intertribal conflict? How many have your crops burned? In the last ten years, how many harvests have you had without any loss through thieves, raiders, other tribes, how much have you had to give to your king? Think about it! Pay your tax, and that's it. All those other problems go. My legion will enforce that.

"You," Gaius then said to the Celt shielding the girl. "You're the village metal-worker?"

"So?"

"I've heard you're one of the best in Britain."

"So?"

"Suppose I asked you to make something for me."

"And if I don't, you'll . . ."

"Leave you to your own devices," Gaius shrugged.

"And if I do?"

"I'll pay," Gaius replied.

"And my daughter?"

"If you were to be officially working for a Roman Legate, I somehow doubt that very many men will be bothering her. But if they do, I promise right now in front of all that they shall have to experience the three nails."

"Even Romans?" the Celt queried doubtfully.

"Any soldier who wilfully disobeys my clear orders has a very clear idea what to expect," Gaius replied coldly.

The Celt agreed, even if he remained somewhat doubtful. Gaius was satisfied. More of the smaller parts were being made. Soon, all that would be required would be the larger pipes and boiler.

Chapter 30

"Push!" Gaius yelled. Four soldiers were trying to free his cart from a boggy hole. There were mutters and cursing from the soldiers. Gaius grinned, and added, "Don't drop anything in the mud!" He paused, then added, "Or else!" This produced more swearing, then suddenly the cart lurched forwards and one of the soldiers tripped to fall face-forward into the mud. As he struggled back to his feet, he was greeted with much hilarity.

"You can stay on the down-hill side of the cart!" Gaius ordered with a shrug. This order was followed by more suggestions from the other men.

"Gaius!" From above, Timothy, the one man who called the Legate by his first name, was gesturing. "Celts!"

As Gaius rode towards him, Timothy turned and rode up-hill, gesturing for Gaius to follow.

Gaius reached the top of the hill at the same time as four Tribunes. A scout was standing before him.

The ground before them was open and grassed, although here and there a burnt stump could be seen protruding upwards. The area had obviously been cleared for farmland in the not too distant past, and although no animals could be seen, it seemed likely they had been there recently. The grassy slope dropped easily to a small stream that meandered along, with reeds at the side and plentiful weeds within. A casual glance suggested the stream would be about hip deep, and so would be easily crossed by wading, but wading would slow down troops, and would render them somewhat defenceless to arrows or rocks from a catapult. On the other side of the stream, the ground rose again, a little more steeply, to a corresponding hill on the far side. The far side had the occasional small ridge that was sometimes terminated in a relatively steep slope of eroded soil. In short, the far side was not well suited to the Roman tactic of close advance in line.

To the south, the stream broke up into a broad marsh, from which a number of old, stunted trees grew. More importantly, on both sides of the marsh, the land rose towards the hills in a rather gentler slope. It was a reasonably clear that an attack from the south would be preferable, except that the marsh would greatly slow the assembly of the troops and make them vulnerable to an artillery attack. Whether the Celts could take advantage of that was another issue, but even if they could not, any attack from there required a slow advance, always assuming troops could emerge from the marsh. Finally, experience had shown him that marsh and heavy infantry were basically incompatible.

About a mile to the north and on this side of the stream lay a few huts, apparently recently abandoned. On the far side of the stream, opposite this 'village', the land rose quite steeply, but worse, it was broken, and was an excellent barrier to line advance. Any concentrated attack from above would quickly break a line, and it would be almost impossible to plug such a gap quickly. To the north of the 'village' the forest began. There was no sign of any villagers, but two dogs remained in view. There was also no sign of the Celts.

"There's a strong British force, approximately five thousand men, camped on the other side of that hill," the scout reported. "They've erected a palisade of stakes."

And, Gaius thought to himself, they have a huge natural rampart and ditch between them and us.

"I presume they know we're here?" Gaius asked.

"They will now!" a tribune said, and pointed to the far hill where two Celts on horses had appeared to survey the same terrain.

"Even so," Gaius muttered, "they won't have seen the entire legion. Falco, take your three cohorts and two turmae of cavalry and in strict silence, keeping this hill as cover, march to the north unseen until you are out of sight of the opposition's scouts. Then you will wheel west, cross the stream and come though the forest to be able to attack from the rear. There will be no attack from me until tomorrow morning. You will remain strictly out of sight and you will show yourself only if you hear 'Advance at the double' on the largest horns. That signal will be reserved for you. I expect you to be ready to attack from first light tomorrow, but be prepared to remain undiscovered for somewhat longer. Any signal from you will indicate you have been found, and will indicate you need assistance. Get underway as quickly as you can, and under no circumstances light fires where they can be seen."

"Sir!" Falco nodded, saluted, and left.

"You!" Gaius addressed Lupus, "get the ballistae and catapults placed for directing fire at that far bank. If they charge us, I want to do as much damage as I can before they get over the stream. Fortify them, and devote one cohort to their defence.

"We shall set up camp here, so full fortifications will be constructed at once. Look busy, and try to give the impression that the full legion is here. Make sure that plenty of soldiers are seen to be fortifying this position."

"Yes, sir," Lupus nodded.

"The remaining Tribunes will be seen to get the cohorts into full defensive position as quickly as feasible. Matius, I want you to organize scouting parties to be seen to be investigating the swamp, and I want mounted exploratores to probe directly ahead, with strict orders to find out what they can with minimum risk to themselves."

"Minimum risk?" Matius frowned.

"It is more important that we are seen to be doing something than we actually do it," Gaius explained. "It is also important that we keep some sort of eye on what the enemy is doing. They will expect that. It's also probably desirable to engage in a couple of preliminary skirmishes. I want cavalry alae to investigate the stream, that village, and then probe over the bank, but under no circumstances go near the forest. If you meet resistance from superior forces, retreat."

"Retreat?" Matius asked, with a slightly surprised expression.

"After a preliminary skirmish," Gaius nodded. "The retreat has to look as if it is necessary. If you find a small party of Celts, by all means defeat them, and if possible, capture some, but I don't want to lose valuable cavalry on a nothing probe."

"The overall strategy?" Matius asked.

"I want to give the impression that I'm probing to the north as a feint for an attack through the swamp," Gaius said. "It would probably help if we found deep and treacherous water at the obvious crossing points, but we have to take what we can get. If possible, I wish to encourage the enemy to attack us."

* * *

"
Legatus
," the Centurion reported, "there's something odd on that hill." He pointed to the highest hill to the southeast.

"Explain!"

"There's one tree on the top of the hill."

"I see it," Gaius replied.

"At the very top there's something silver."

"So there is," Gaius nodded, as sunlight glinted off it.

"It wasn't there when we arrived."

"Perhaps, perhaps not," Gaius said. "It may be that it was always there, but if it's like a shield, the sun may have to hit it at this angle for us to see it."

"You think it's Celtic signalling equipment?" the Centurion frowned. "I didn't know they used the sun."

"I don't know what it is," Gaius shrugged, "but it doesn't seem to be doing anything. Keep an eye on it, and if anyone starts signalling, let me now."

"Yes, sir."

Gaius watched the Centurion leave. A good man, like all the Centurions. Gaius looked again towards the tree on the distant tree. The silver object, whatever it was, was still reflecting sunlight. It was unlikely to be a shield, because Celts invariably built shields from wood or hides. It was obviously something metallic, but it was too far away to tell what it was, or, for that matter, to tell whether there was anyone up there with it. One thing was obvious; apart from possible signalling, it was too far away to be relevant. It could be a Celt observing the Romans, and that would be a good move, except that the position was such that there would be a better view of the Celts! If Caratacus wanted an observation point, he should have got closer. In fact, Gaius smiled to himself, he should have been in the forest to the north, because then he would have seen his detachment.

Perhaps he did have an observer to the north! Well, if he did, there wasn't much that could be done about it. He just had to hope his men would put an arrow in the spy before he could report. And if they couldn't, then the element of surprise would be gone for the encirclement. That would be unfortunate, but there was a limit to what could be done to prevent the enemy from having some success. In the meantime, any shield up that tree was hardly likely to be an immediate hazard.

He looked down across the slope. Already quite impressive defensive fortifications were present. The huge ditch and its turf ramparts already presented a significant obstacle to any direct charge, especially since such a charge would be up-hill. Stakes and other obstacles were nearly in place, and at the rear of the camp, cooking was underway. The ballistae and catapults were in place, and impressive piles of rocks and the large wooden arrows were piled neatly, awaiting orders to fire them. The men were now beginning to finish their work.

The twentieth had made good use of the time.

* * *

He looked up to the north. The detachment was now approaching the huts. Nothing happened when they arrived, and it was clear that they contained no hidden enemy.

The men approached the stream. There should have been a small bridge there, but the enemy had burned it. His troops entered the water. As it happened, the stream was not particularly deep, and it had a reasonably firm bottom. His men crossed without difficulty. The horsemen then began to ride up the hill.

It was just as they reached halfway that Celtic horsemen appeared on the brow of the hill. There were whoops, and a downhill charge. At first the Roman cavalry appeared to do very little, but then, just as the Celts were almost upon them, the Romans charged up-hill, and peeled to the left and right, those peeling to the right presenting lances to the Celts.

Two Celts impaled themselves on the lances, at the same time knocking the Syrian horsemen off their horses; one Celt managed to get a lance past the shield of a left wheeling horseman, sending the rider downhill with blood oozing from his lower right side, but the overall effect was that the Celts rode through the Syrians and were hurtling down towards the stream, now pursued by the Syrians.

Say what you would about Syrians, Gaius thought to himself, but they were excellent horsemen.

The Celts, now at a disadvantage, wheeled towards the bottom of the hill, and rode furiously towards the swamp. The Syrians turned to give chase, but now a hail of arrows descended on them from above. Two Syrians were struck, but managed to stay on their horses. The remaining horsemen must have decided that this was a losing chase, for they now turned and retreated towards the stream.

The Celts on the top of the hill now sent a stream of insults at the Romans, but as the average Roman could not understand their language, this achieved little.

A Roman scouting party returning from the swamp then produced two prisoners. Gaius stared at them, and advised them in a wooden tone that they should surrender on the spot, as the Celts were far too weak to beat his legion, at which point their pride made them give away information they should not have. Gaius gave no indication that this had happened, and he woodenly continued that he would release them, and before they were recaptured or killed they should tell any Celts that wished to surrender that they should do so now. If they swore allegiance to Rome, they could return to their farms, and get on with their lives. Before they left, they should have a look at what a full legion looked like.

The men were sent away, and in due course some message must have been conveyed because a new round of fiercer insults were thrown.

Eventually both sides settled in for the night. Each could see the lights of the fires of the other, each could see the sentries of the other, a small skirmish ensued in the swamp as each side sent a scouting party to attempt to sabotage the other, but as neither side could see much, this achieved little.

* * *