Rome’s Fallen Eagle (28 page)

‘Release!’ Vespasian again screamed at ten paces apart. The second volley slammed into the Chauci taking more down into the river; they readied their long thrusting spears for close combat. A massive cracking of wood to the right caused Vespasian to glance across to see a longboat being pushed back, impaled on the ram of the bireme next to him; Chauci warriors were jumping into the water and grabbing at the bireme’s oars, thrusting their spears through the oar-ports into the rowers within and trying to scale the ship’s sides; archers leant over the rail picking them off with easy shots.

Ansigar kept his course steady, hoping to pass between the two longboats, but the Chauci steersmen knew their business; at
the last moment both boats veered to the starboard heading straight for Vespasian’s and Paetus’ vessels, leaving Kuno’s free to pass by.

‘Brace!’ Vespasian screamed as a collision became inevitable.

‘Fuck me!’ Magnus muttered next to him as he gripped the rail. ‘First horses and now longboats, don’t they do anything natural here?’

A shuddering blow, just to the starboard side of the prow, jolted through the whole boat, throwing a few of the less wellbraced Batavians to their knees. Spears jammed forward with determined force into the shields of the Batavians as the boat started to slew round. Vespasian hacked at a shaft embedded in Magnus’ shield as, behind him, Ansigar roared for some men to take up oars to steady the vessel. An auxiliary shrieked and fell back, ripping a bloodied leaf-shaped spearhead from his jaw; before the gap could be closed two Chauci warriors had jumped across, spears jabbing down from over their shoulders, whilst their comrades hammered theirs on the Batavians’ shields; gradually they gave ground. More Chauci swarmed over, bellowing with battle-joy, pushing the defenders ever back, off the fighting platform and in amongst the rowing benches. The Chauci followed, battering at the shield wall.

Vespasian stood between Sabinus to his right and Magnus to his left, punching his shield forward and up, trying to deflect the long-reaching weapons so that he could get under and close in on his foes; but to no avail. Sabinus raised his shield to a brutal overarm stab, taking the point just above the boss, embedding it with a deadened thump; twisting away from his brother he hauled the spear forward to drag its owner out of the line. Vespasian dipped to his right and swept his sword low below the man’s shield; his arm juddered but he kept his grip as it sliced into a shin with the hard, wet sound of a butcher’s cleaver thwacking into a side of pork. With an ear-splitting howl the warrior stepped forward to balance himself only to find the bottom part of his leg missing; he tumbled to the deck spraying blood from his newly carved stump over the feet of his comrades.

Vespasian pressed forward his advantage, taking his neighbours with him into the gap, his sword flashing red over his shield and into the face of the next warrior, crunching through the bridge of his nose as the man stared in cross-eyed disbelief at the blade. The Chauci line momentarily faltered. Magnus exploded forward, bellowing curses above the screaming, taking the Batavians to his left with him, and hacked away a spear shaft before him; the warrior slipped on the slick blood-drenched deck lowering his shield for a brief instant. Magnus’ sword found its mark.

Now they were past the spears and toe to toe with the boarders; the second rank of Batavians closed up, holding their shields over the first ranks’ heads to protect them from the downward spear-thrusts of the Chauci still up on the fighting platform. Vespasian felt the pressure on his back as the man behind him pushed him forward. He stabbed repeatedly with his spatha until he felt it connect with flesh and then he twisted and was rewarded with a scream. To both sides of him the Batavians were making ground and only a few Chauci were left in front of the fighting platform, trapped, unable to get back up. They died swiftly. The warriors on the platform pulled back out of range of a disabling sword swipe to their ankles. They were at stalemate.

Vespasian stepped back, letting the man behind him replace him in the front rank. Ansigar, with five oarsmen on each side rowing constantly, was keeping the longboat at an angle to the Chaucian vessel preventing it from coming alongside and disgorging even more warriors. To his left Paetus’ crew were having a hard fight of it, they were almost pushed back to the mast. But of Kuno’s boat there was no sign. To the right, the river was littered with flotsam and jetsam; one bireme had flames issuing out of its oar-ports and warriors swarming up its sides from a longboat attached to its bow with grappling hooks. The remaining biremes clustered around the last three longboats afloat, pumping arrows into the shields of their crews who could do nothing but cower.

With a sudden lurch the longboat rocked as a massed cry broke through the cacophony of the river battle. A warrior tumbled from the fighting platform into the water whilst the remainder up
there had to grab the sides to steady themselves. In an instant Magnus and Sabinus led the Batavians leaping up, taking full advantage of the enemies’ lack of balance; as they did Vespasian looked beyond them to see the cause of the shock: Kuno’s boat had circled around and had rammed the Chauci in the rear. Kuno’s men leapt onto the surprised vessel, slicing into the crew whose attention had been focused on Vespasian’s longboat.

As the last warrior fell from the fighting platform Sabinus and Magnus pushed the Chaucian vessel away, leaving Kuno’s men to finish the job.

‘Ansigar!’ Vespasian shouted, pointing at Paetus’ boat where now more than thirty Chauci had pushed Paetus’ men beyond the mast.

The decurion understood and pulled on his steering oar, guiding the longboat towards the hard-pressed crew on the boat next to them. With a few pulls at the oars they were almost alongside. Armed with the remainder of their javelins, the Batavians sent two savage, close-range volleys into the Chauci’s flank. More than a dozen fell, skewered from the side; a shudder went through the rest and a few paused to look towards the new threat. This was enough for Paetus and his men; they surged forward with renewed vigour, getting between the long spears of their opponents and working their swords through the gaps in their shield wall. As Vespasian’s boat drew closer the Chauci nearest the rail turned and fled knowing that they would soon be outnumbered, leaving their three comrades already engaged to the front to succumb to the stabbing swords of the Batavians. Ansigar shouted in German and the defenders swarmed all over them using their shield bosses and fists rather than their blades. As the last one went down, disarmed and unconscious, the Chaucian longboat pushed away, backing oars whilst warriors helped survivors from the other boat out of the water.

‘Let them go!’ Vespasian shouted. ‘Take up the oars and let’s get away from here.’

‘I don’t think that would be a wise thing to do, legate,’ a voice called from behind him. ‘You’ve seen how accurate our ballistae crews are.’

Vespasian spun round to see a bireme just twenty paces away; leaning on the rail, resplendent in his red crested helmet, bronze muscled cuirass and flowing red cloak was Publius Gabinius. He smiled without mirth. ‘If I were you I would take my generous invitation to come aboard my ship. Oh, and you’ll bring that trinket that you found, won’t you?’

Vespasian looked down from the bireme’s rail at the three streams of blood splashing into the river. Ansigar recited a prayer in German as the lifeblood of the three captives was emptied into the water in honour of Nehalennia, the goddess of the Northern Sea.

‘Was that strictly necessary?’ Gabinius asked.

Vespasian shrugged as the sacrifices were dumped overboard from Ansigar’s longboat. ‘I’m not really sure.’

‘Well, I am,’ Magnus asserted. ‘And I have to say that I feel a lot better knowing that we’ve got a German goddess on our side for the trip home.’

‘There can’t be any harm in that, I suppose.’ Gabinius’ attention turned to the bundle; he unwrapped the leather and held the Eagle in his hands, looking at it with admiration. ‘Of course I shall be claiming the glory of retrieving this.’

Sabinus looked more than resentful. ‘And Callistus will be boasting to the Emperor that it was his plan?’

Gabinius looked up, surprise showing on his thin, long face. ‘How did you know that?’

‘The man whom Callistus sent to stop us told us in exchange for a weapon in his hand as he died.’

Gabinius sniffed. ‘They’re very particular about that here; mind you, I suppose we like to have a coin put in our mouth for the ferryman, same sort of thing really. Anyway, he was right; Callistus will be enjoying his perceived victory, but I’ll be remembered in the history books as the man who found the Eagle of the Seventeenth.’

Vespasian looked up at the eastern bank of the river moving slowly by as they sailed north towards the sea and back to the Empire. Behind them the rest of the fleet had embarked and were
following. ‘You know that your theft of this will cost my brother his life, Gabinius?’

‘Theft is a very strong word. You could argue that you would have failed had it not been for my attack on the Chauci. But no matter, it’s in my possession now and that’s what counts. As to Sabinus losing his life because of me, I doubt that will happen.’

‘What makes you so sure?’

‘Because Narcissus told me so.’

Vespasian was outraged. ‘Narcissus knew that you were coming after the Eagle even though he sent us?’

‘Of course he knew; he doesn’t give a shit who finds the Eagle as long as it’s found. The end result is all the same to him and he considers it good politics to have his underlings squabbling amongst themselves.’

Magnus spat on the deck. ‘Fucking Greek freedmen.’

Gabinius smirked and gazed proudly at his prize. ‘Yes, I’m afraid they’re not to be trusted.’

‘What about Pallas, did he know too?’ Vespasian asked. ‘And did he know that Callistus sent someone to kill us?’

‘I don’t know if he knew of Callistus’ plan but I’m sure that he didn’t know Callistus had sent an assassin; he would have told Narcissus if he had. Narcissus made no mention of Callistus’ assassin, in fact quite the opposite; he was very specific in his letter to me that you were not to be killed if I came across you, so he would have in no way condoned Callistus’ little bit of cheating.’

Sabinus looked relieved. ‘Well, that’s something, I suppose: if he doesn’t want us dead I should be free to return to Rome; and I can expose Callistus as a murderous little Greek cunt to Narcissus.’

Vespasian sighed, exhausted by the day and the machinations of Claudius’ freedmen. ‘I wouldn’t bother; what proof do we have other than our word? Callistus will just deny everything and all you’d do is make him even more of an enemy. Besides, Narcissus won’t care one way or the other; he sees the bigger picture and as far as he’s concerned he has his Eagle for his master and it’s time to move on.’

‘I think that you’re right there, Vespasian,’ Gabinius agreed. ‘And anyway, Sabinus, you’re not free to return to Rome. Narcissus gave me orders for you two in his letter should the Eagle have been found; assuming that you have survived of course. Vespasian, you are to return to the Second Augusta, and Sabinus, Narcissus, or rather, the Emperor, has appointed you legate of the Fourteenth Gemina based at Mogontiacum on the Rhenus.’

Sabinus was shocked. ‘The Fourteenth? Why?’

Gabinius shrugged. ‘I don’t know; imperial politics seem to get more and more unreadable and seemingly random but I’m sure there’s a good reason for it.’

‘I’m sure there is and it’ll be more to do with Narcissus’ ambitions than my deserving it.’

‘I expect you’re right; it’s a strange world that we live in when our class is forced to take orders from freedmen. Anyway, you can’t have your old legion back, the Ninth Hispana has been given to the Empress’ brother, Corvinus.’

‘Yes, I know; the only good thing about that is that’ll keep him out of our way in Pannonia for a while.’

‘Only for a year.’

‘What?’

‘At the end of the campaigning season next year Aulus Plautius, who was made Governor of Pannonia in thanks for his support of Claudius, is moving to Gesoriacum on the north coast of Gallia Belgae, and he’ll be bringing the Ninth with him. The Twentieth will also be going there as well as your two legions and your attached auxiliary cohorts. You, gentlemen, have the honour to be part of Aulus Plautius’ invasion force for the conquest of Britannia.’

Vespasian felt a chill as he envisioned more fog-wreathed forests and strange gods; he looked at his brother. ‘I had a feeling that “honour” was coming and I’ve been dreading it.’

Sabinus was astounded. ‘It seems that Narcissus is determined to kill us one way or the other.’

Only Paetus looked pleased.

Magnus spat again on the deck. ‘Fucking great way to end the day.’

PART III

T
HE
I
NVASION OF
B
RITANNIA
, S
PRING
AD 43