Praetorian Series [3] A Hunter and His Legion (31 page)

“I count n
o more than fifteen hundred,” he reported.

He sounded serious but either his mathematical skill
was as horrible as his gear was primitive… or mine was.

I straightened and
returned my eyes to the enemy, and noticed that Cuyler was right.  Not only had my initial estimate of six thousand enemy troops been far from wrong, but the enemy had shifted positions since I’d turned away as well.  The width of their battle lines had narrowed by at least half.

I glanced at Vincent.  “Did they just maneuver their people into a tighter formation?”

He glanced at Helena, and I could see Helena drop her chin just slightly out of the corner of my eye.  After an obvious delay, his eyes finally shifted to meet mine.  “They haven’t moved…
Legate
.”

My head tilted back in surprise. 
Maybe Santino had rubbed off on Vincent, and he’d developed a penchant for inappropriate jokes in inappropriate situations, and had decided to pull a fast one on me, as there was simply no way the barbarians
hadn’t
shifted their formation.

Choosing instead to accept Vincent’s little joke
for now, I turned back to Cuyler.

“Give me a description of what
you’re seeing, Eagle Eye,” I ordered.  “Armaments.  Transportation.  Siege equipment.”

The man shook his head as he continued to glass our perimeter.  “No siege equipment or chariots that I can see, Legate.  Standard Celtic kit for the foot soldiers.  Two spears, a shield, and maybe half the contingent carry swords.
  Light to no armor.  Basic animal skins for clothing.  Minimal cold weather gear.”  He paused and I could see him lean forward, as if the movement could help offer him a better view of what he was seeing.  “Maybe a quarter of them are female.”

I nodded.  Female Celts fighting in battle
wasn’t necessarily the norm, but they were still capable fighters.  Most circumstances that saw them raising arms was when their tribe’s back was up against a wall and every able bodied member was needed to fight.  Front line combat wasn’t as common, but perhaps an advanced party such as this one would have a greater place for women.  Their slighter frames and agility would be invaluable tools for a scouting or shadow party.  We still hadn’t determined which this particular one was yet, but I had no doubt these people were the same ones who had tracked us since Camulodunum.  That told me that they meant business, and while I didn’t know why they’d chosen now to fight, a fight tonight would suit me just fine.

I relayed Cuyler’s intelligence to
Minicius and requested his tactical appraisal.

“They caught us off guard, Legate,” he started, “but they took too long organizing their forces. 
They should have struck quickly or waited until the early morning, because our legionnaires are already on line and ready to defend the camp or advance forward.”  He paused and craned his neck for a better view, but didn’t hesitate for long.  “In either situation, our forces could easily overwhelm them.  Had they outnumbered us four to one we could have defeated them with minimal losses; but evenly matched, prepared to receive them, and behind our defensive barricades, I suspect they will break off after our first
pila
volley.”

I nodded.  “Very good, Centurion.  Order the legionnaires to hold their ground until the enemy are in range of their
pila
.  Order one volley at that time.  Should they continue to advance, my people will attempt to further dissuade them.  If they’re persistent, send the legionnaires forward.”

“Your
orders are sound, Legate.  I obey.”

He
saluted and moved off to put my orders into action.  I watched him go and clenched my teeth.  Unless something disastrous occurred, there was little else to do but kick back, relax, and enjoy the show.

Even with
more than two football fields between us, I could hear the roars and warlike chants coming from the opposing Celts.  They were riling themselves up for battle as most barbarians did, but my legionnaires held themselves back in patient silence, a coiled cobra ready to strike, not an ape pounding his chest to intimidate a foe, and they were far more dangerous because of it.

Seconds later the roars and chants abated, and the enemy pushed forward.  I grinned, feeling the excitement in my chest grow and grow, and I decided I couldn’t just sit back and play the arm-chair general.  I spun around and marched
toward my
praetorium
. 

Helena turned and tracked my movement.
  “Where are you going?”

“Getting Penelope,” I answered over my shoulder.

“Why?”  She asked as I disappeared into my tent and moved to my equipment chest.  My left hand brushed against my foot locker and I had a thought to retrieve something within, but the thought was gone in an instant so I ignored it.

Within
my equipment chest was all my combat gear, including my MOLLE vest and other pieces of my kit.  I already had my pistol strapped to my right thigh, but there hadn’t been a need to be fully kitted up earlier, so I reached in gently and removed Penelope, giving her a quick wipe with my sleeve to remove a smudge on her collapsible stock.  I pulled back the cocking lever to reveal the ejection port on its right side and blew into it to expel any dust or dirt that may have collected there.  I hadn’t had an opportunity to use the old girl since our battle with Agrippina, so my anticipation only grew at the thought of using her now.

“Ready to
get back in the fight?”  I asked Penelope.  I twisted her around so that her barrel pointed at my face before tilting her up and down quickly like a dog agreeing with his master.  “Oh, yes you are,” I squealed.  “Yes you are.”

I smiled at Penelope and wrapped her sling around my shoulder.  I reached back into the chest and retrieved two loaded magazines and s
tuffed them into a cargo pocket, not needing my MOLLE vest tonight.  Finally, I swapped out the reflex sight currently sitting atop my trusty HK 416 assault rifle for my night vision equipped ACOG scope.

Once all was ready, I stood and turned, only to find my way blocked by Helena, who held her arms crossed
against her chest and above ever expanding baby bump.  My smile grew as I noticed it and took a step forward to put my hand against her stomach.

She didn’t flinch or move her arms at my touch.

“How’s my little guy doing?”  I asked.

“Put it away, Jacob,” Helena said.

“Put what away?”

“
Penelope.  You don’t need it.”

“Lay off, Helena
. I need this.”

She uncrossed her arms and gripped my hand against
her stomach, but instead of holding it lovingly, she ripped it away and threw it aside.

“Since when have you needed to blow off steam by murdering people!?”

“This isn’t murder, Helena,” I said.  “This is war.  Now get out of my way!”

I pushed past her roughly, but she barely even flinched at the contact.  I stormed my way out of the tent with Helena in quick pursuit.  Once outside, I noticed the advancing Celts had halved the d
istance between our two forces, and swore under my breath that I was losing time.

“Jacob, don’t do this,” Helena said as she followed me around to the back of my
praetorium
.  “Don’t you realize what you’re doing?”

I ignored her and called up to Cuyler atop
his LP/OP.  “Get on the line, Gunny.  I’ll take it from here.”

Sergeant Cuyler looked down at me in confusion with his binoculars still held in place.  “Sir?”

“Down,” I ordered.

The man rarely hesitated,
but he made up for it by acting instantly this time.  He shouldered his rifle and climbed down the observation platform before dropping to the ground.  He stood there, his confused expression still on his face, and he glanced at Helena for information.  She stood beside him, hugging herself, but didn’t look at him as I started my ascent.

“We have contingency plans for a fight like this, Jacob,” she
called up to me.  “You developed them months ago.  We don’t need to fight a force this small.”

I ignored her as I reached my perch.  There was a small chair situated atop the platform with a footrest near its opposite edge.  I sunk into the hard, wooden seat and
tried to get comfortable, propping my left foot up on the footrest.  With my left leg slightly elevated, I shouldered my rifle, placing my left elbow against my thigh for support and sighted through my ACOG.  It was completely dark so I flicked on its night vision capabilities and the advancing troops materialized in my scope like they were right in front of me.

I could have fired in that moment, but I decided to at least see what would happen once the legionna
ires cast their first volley, but the Celts were smart, and paused just out of range to continue their taunts and shows of force.  I smiled through my scope and mimicked firing my rifle in quick succession, pretending each shot to be a kill shot.

“Who are you?”

I heard the voice at the outreaches of my hearing, and didn’t think much of it at first, knowing it was Helena’s and suspecting it must have been directed at someone else.  But when silence followed her choice few words, I looked down, and saw her staring up at me intently, Cuyler still at her side.  I found his disobedience infuriating.

How like him.

“I said get on the line, Cuyler,” I ordered down at him.

He hesitated again, and with
obvious reluctance, looked back at Helena for support but she was too focused on me.  He didn’t seem to know what to do, but then he took his leave to join Archer and Brewster.  Helena didn’t move, so I turned my attention back to her.

“Go find Artie
and keep her company, Helena.”

Her
jaw dropped at my comment, but instead of anger in her eyes, all I saw was sadness and a sudden determination.  Such an expression surprised me, but what was she going to do?

In answer to my silent question, I saw her
grind her teeth together and move away from the LP/OP as she reached into her pocket to retrieve her radio.  Confused, but interested, I placed my own radio’s ear bud in my ear to listen in.

“3-3, this is 3-2.  Come in,” Helena
transmitted.

“Santino at your service, s
exy pants.”

“I’m countermanding 3-1’s orders.  Have
Minicius order all troops to stand down unless directly threatened, and prepare to initiate protocol alpha.”

“I don’t think you have the authority to do that,” Santino replied, and I smiled
proudly, “but I call you sexy pants for a reason, so give me a second.”

“
Copy, meet me at Minicius’ position in two mikes.”

There was a double click over the radio, and this time it was my
turn to open my mouth in shock.  I scrambled down off my perch, noticing Helena enter my
praetorium
, which also happened to be where she still kept her things as well.  I dropped five feet to the ground and sprinted to my tent, flinging myself through the entrance to discover Helena rummaging through her equipment container.

“What the hell are you doing??”  I demanded as I stepped forward.  “We can’t have these barbarians
harrying us all the way to Anglesey.  They could recruit more numbers or find better ground to attack us from.  What are you…”

As I was about to ask my final question, I placed my hand roughly on Helena’s shoulder.  I hadn’t meant to hurt her or even intimidate her with the gesture,
but that’s when, in her search through our gear, she opened my footlocker.  An immediate feeling of anger and jealousy overcame me as her frantic search ended with the discovery of something I didn’t want her to find.

“Jacob… what is
…”

I squeezed my hand
against her shoulder tightly as realization set in.  She flinched at the grip, but she reacted so quickly that I barely had time to understand what happened next.

Reaching
across her body, she took my hand in her own and wrenched it to the side so forcefully that I doubled over instinctively to keep her from breaking my arm in half.  She spun around in the opposite direction to get behind me, and kicked the back of my knee a half second later.  I fell to my knees and turned my head to plead for her to stop so that we could talk, but before I had the chance, her left hand was already cutting through the air faster than I could track.  It smashed into my jaw and I saw stars flash before my eyes as she let go of my hand and let me fall to the floor.

She screamed in pain and shook her hand, but didn’t waste any time
before retreating from our fight, yelling, “I can’t believe you would hide that from me!  How could you betray me like that??”  Her words were angry and distant, like she was talking to herself rather than to me.  She stumbled from the tent, but before she was gone, I heard her say, “I just hope that knocked some goddamned sense into you!”

Three emotions
and feelings swirled within me in that moment as I rested upon the ground, my head having fallen to rest atop the footlocker that Helena had slammed shut before punching me.  The first was of course anger – lots of it – but it was quickly, and interestingly, replaced with pride.  I felt a smile creep onto my face as I remembered my first meeting with Helena, and how she’d nearly punched a hole in my face then as well.