Roman - The Fall of Britannia (24 page)

Willow’s head
looked down in shame.

‘
I
cannot control the way my body reacts, miss. It is true the
feelings take control of me, but I am a mere woman. I do not seek
their company, but when I am summoned I have no option. I am owned
by the Druids and pander to their whims. This is my role and such
is my fate.’

‘
Are
you lying to me, Willow? Because if you are...’

‘
I
am telling the truth,’ interrupted the young girl quietly, wiping
her eyes with part of the cape.

‘
Oh,
Willow, I didn’t realise...’

‘
Why
would you? I did not intend to tell you and if you hadn’t have come
to the clearing, then you would never have known.’

‘
But
why?’ asked Gwenno, throwing her bag down in frustration. ‘Why is
it so important that I stay pure? In fact, what’s to stop me going
out there right now and dragging the first man I see into my bed?
I’m fed up of this so called purity, it’s caused me nothing but
heartache and I’ve got a good mind to do just that and end this
nonsense.’

‘
You
can’t,’ said Willow quietly.

‘
Why
not?’ snapped Gwenno. ‘Was it not you who said I was beautiful and
all men are weak? What man would say no?’

‘
All
of them!’

‘
Why?’

‘
Because only the pure can speak to the Gods,’ said Willow,
her head held down.

A silence fell
between them as the information sunk in.

‘
What do you mean speak to the Gods?’ asked Gwenno. ‘No one
can speak to the Gods, they are in the otherworld.’

The young girl
continued to stare downward in silence.

‘
Willow,’ said Gwenno in frustration, stepping forward to
shake the girls shoulder, ‘what do you know, tell me?’

‘
Oh,
Miss I am so sorry,’ sobbed Willow looking up, ‘I know I should
have told you, but I have been warned on pain of death to keep my
silence.’

‘
About what, Willow?’ asked Gwenno.

‘
About your true fate,’ wept Willow, her shoulders shuddering
in uncontrollable emotion.

----

Chapter 18

Since leaving
the hospital, Prydain had undergone intensive training. The scouts
were primarily a mounted unit and tasked with finding out the lay
of the land in front of a legion’s advance. They were responsible
for gathering information about enemy locations, strengths and
tactics and were experts in subterfuge, survival and horsemanship.
They were also expected to be skilled in the art of
murder.

Most of the
scouts were accomplished hunters or horsemen back home, and
although they had been taught soldiering in the ranks of the
legions, had either requested the move or had been recruited after
some particular skill had been noticed by those in charge. They
kept their distance from the rest of the legion and undertook their
special training in secrecy and isolation.

This mission had
been different and had been a chance to have a huge impact on the
historic invasion. Prydain and fifty other scouts had crossed the
channel under the cover of darkness and spread out all along the
Britannic coast on a rainy moonless night. They carried only hand
weapons, biscuit rations and waterproof cloaks, and as soon as they
landed, had disappeared into the undergrowth of the island. It was
a tactical masterstroke by Plautius and the success of their
mission meant that three legions landed unopposed on the shores of
Britannia. By the time the defending tribes became aware of the
threat, it was too late, and tens of thousands of heavily armed men
already had a foothold in three different locations, safe behind
rapidly expanding defensive stockades. Having established a safe
beachhead, the Ninth Hispana reinforced the position and cleared
the ground for miles around, dealing with minor skirmishes from
stubborn locals. As soon as the ground had been secured, the
Fourteenth Gemina landed and marched through the Hispana’s position
to establish a fortress ten miles inland, securing any crops or
stock animals on the way.

Smaller
fortresses were quickly established up and down the coast,
protecting their flanks, linking up with the two other legions that
had landed on the same momentous night. At last, the order had come
to move inland and the invasion force marched into unknown
territory. Thousands of heavily armed Legionaries, in full battle
dress, led Cohorts of lighter armed auxiliaries through the broad
leaved forests, forming several columns, each over ten miles
long.

Engineers
travelled with their cart mounted Ballistae, ready to be called
forward should they encounter any serious resistance and every
Century carried a Scorpio, a smaller but still powerful form of the
crossbow that could be operated by one man to propel up to four
darts a minute with extreme accuracy over a hundred
paces.

Hundreds of
mules carried the legion’s stores ranging from tents and cooking
equipment to spare weapons and food. Heavy carts drawn by teams of
oxen carried sacks of grain and dried beef in case local supplies
were scarce, along with hundreds of amphorae of wine, the essential
ingredient of a happy legion. Cavalry protected the Roman’s flanks
against ambush and also brought up the rear, enabling a quick
reaction force to respond to any threat at a moment’s
notice.

Behind the
columns came the camp followers, the traders and prostitutes who
made their money from the purses of homesick legionaries. All eager
to see to the every whim of any man willing to part with his hard
earned coin for a reminder of their homeland, no matter how
fleeting.

----

Twenty miles in
front of the legion, Prydain and three of his comrades lay amongst
the bracken, hidden from the prying eyes of the enemy in the
distance. Their horses were a mile back in the woods, being looked
after by the rest of the patrol. They had come upon two isolated
riders on the trail, and though at first they had been reluctant to
talk, the patrol’s interpreter had explained in grisly detail what
fate awaited them if they didn’t. The resulting information was
exactly the sort of thing they needed to know and while four of the
patrol took the enemy riders back to the legion to see out the rest
of their lives in slavery, the others moved deeper into the forest,
and crawled forward to witness the scene below.

The valley to
their front was covered with conical tents and crawling with
activity. Women tended cooking fires, children played in the dirt
and horses were being exercised in mock charges between groups of
warriors. Hundreds more were busy seeing to their own tasks for the
day, whether it was sharpening their weapons or testing their
strength against their comrades by trials of arms.

This was the
first substantial enemy encampment the scouts had encountered, and
though it was obviously prepared for war, Prydain was surprised to
see there were no fortifications defending them. A foolish omission
in his eyes.

Centurion Scipio
took in the scene with experienced eyes, mentally mapping out the
strengths and weaknesses of the position. He quickly realised there
was no point in attacking the barbarians in the valley, as there
was little room for the legion to manoeuvre into positions of
strength. His attention lingered on the lines of chariots for a
long time before accepting they were too well defended for any
pre-emptive strike. Each of the four scouts memorised as much of
the information as they could before crawling back from the edge,
and making their way back to the horses and galloping back to the
legion.

----

A few hours
later, Plautius stood in his command tent listening carefully to
Scipio’s report. When he was finished, he dismissed the Centurion
before sitting back on his seat and signalled for a servant to pour
more wine for the three other commanders present.

‘
This is irritating news,’ said Plautius. ‘It would seem that
this group isn’t the main army, but a sub group that we could well
do without.’

‘
Ignore it!’ said Vespasian, commander of the Second Augusta.
‘Pass them by and continue to Camulodunum, we can deal with them
later.’

‘
I’m
not so sure,’ said Plautius. ‘We don’t want them to suddenly appear
at our rear during the midst of battle.’ He turned to
Nasica.

‘
Nasica, take the Hispana and sort out this irritation. When
you have finished, continue west. Take as many prisoners as
possible and find out the locations of their mines and the source
of their gold.’ He looked over at the casket of bracelets and Torcs
already looted from the many villages engulfed so far on the march.
‘It would seem that they have a never ending supply and the
majority of it comes from the west. When we have taken Camulodunum,
I will send for you.’

‘
Yes, General,’ said Nasica.

‘
The
rest of us will find this Caratacus they speak of and send him in
chains back to Rome. Tomorrow we will make our plans, but tonight,
we will relax and toast Nasica, for it would seem his legion is to
be the first into battle on Britannia.’ He raised his silver goblet
high. ‘Nasica,’ he said, ‘may you wade through streams of Celtic
blood.’

‘
Nasica!’ laughed the other officers and drank to the coming
campaign.

Nasica didn’t
stay late in Plautius’s tent but he could hear the sound of revelry
for a long time as he rode back toward his own legion’s lines. As
he approached, a voice called out in the darkness, halting the
mounted party. Nasica could see dozens of helmets peering over the
staked ramparts of the temporary camp.

‘
Draw close!’ came the command and one of the guards rode up
to the gate to say the watchword without being
overheard.

Satisfied the
watchword was correct, the guards opened the gate and allowed the
party in, saluting as the Legatus passed, secretly relieved that
they had carried out their drills impeccably. As he passed the
guard commander, Nasica stopped and called out to him from his
horse.

‘
Tessarius,’ he called, ‘find Centurion Scipio and bring him
to my tent.’

‘
Yes, Sir!’ answered the guard commander and ran into the
darkness.

Nasica continued
between the perfectly aligned rows of tents, passing the pyramids
of Pilae that were stacked outside each entrance flap. His legion
was at full strength and was as ready as they could be. As he rode,
he listened to the underlying sound of the sleeping camp. Sounds of
snoring from within the tents, and the gentle murmur of those who
could not sleep as they sat around campfires mixed with the distant
restlessness of the horses in their pens. He reached his tent and
stripped his armour before donning a warm cape over his tunic. A
few moments later, Scipio entered, wrapped in his own cape, his
eyes still red from being awakened.

‘
Hail, Nasica,’ said Scipio.

‘
Come in,’ said the Legatus, ‘make yourself
comfortable.’

Scipio sat at
the central table and waited patiently as Nasica poured him a glass
of warm wine.

‘
Right, Centurion,’ he said passing him the tankard, ‘about
this enemy force, I want you to tell me everything you witnessed.
Start from the beginning and leave nothing out.’

By the time they
were finished, the sun was halfway over the horizon and the camp
was coming to life. Scipio returned to the scouts and Nasica
finalized his strategy. The order was given to strike camp and the
Ninth Hispana marched westward into the unknown. Behind them, the
ditch had been filled in and what was left of the temporary camp
burned in the morning light, the black smoke reaching high into the
clear sky. Marching legions left nothing behind that could be used
by the enemy.

----

Chapter 19

‘
What do you mean landed?’ shouted Caratacus. ‘I gave orders
that I was to be informed as soon as they were sighted.’

‘
They killed the lookouts, Sire,’ said Bragus, the clan leader
who had brought the bad news. ‘By the time we knew any different,
their ships had landed thousands of troops along the coast and in
the lagoon of Thanet.’

‘
And
why did you not strike?’ shouted Caratacus. ‘You have the men and
the chariots; you should have attacked before they had time to
reorganise.’

‘
By
the time we realised what had happened,’ answered Bragus, ‘they had
built a palisade across the valley and dominated the high ground
with archers and cavalry.’

‘
A
palisade, how can they build a defence in less than a day?’ asked
Caratacus. ‘It is not possible.’

‘
They brought ships loaded with prepared timbers, lord.’ said
the captain. ‘An army of men dug a trench and pre-made walls were
dropped into the holes. I have never seen such organisation. I
watched from a nearby hill and the wall was twice the size of a man
by the time night fell.’

‘
I
care not about wooden walls,’ snarled Caratacus, ‘wooden walls burn
as easily as men bleed. We have not assembled all these clans to
sit back and let the Romans walk into our lands without as much as
an arrow in return.’