Hosker, G [Sword of Cartimandua 04] Roman Retreat (2 page)

Marius was unconcerned when the runners arrived from the other walls.  He had expected them to surround him. He had anticipated that the barbarians would have had a force ready to ambush him had he tried to escape by the Porta Decumana. If death were to come he would face it behind his walls with his men. The scorpions on the towers were taking a heavy toll on the warriors as they emerged from the woods and the arrows were effectively decimating the enemy but Marius knew that the bolts and arrows were limited and soon they would be using swords and shields. The result of that action would determine the outcome of this battle. He could see that one group of warriors had armed themselves with Roman shields and were using their war hammers to smash the palisade down.  He shouted to the nearest scorpion. “Realign your weapon and take out those warriors.” While the shields were effective against arrows and stones they were no match for the steel tipped bolts and soon the warriors lay in a heap of dead and dying. Their work had not been in vain for Ninian could now see the beginnings of a weak spot and he ordered his men to concentrate on the weak section of the wall. Marius waited until they were near to the oil and then gave the order.  Ten fire tipped arrows plunged into the oil creating an inferno which engulfed the attackers. The Centurion’s trick also had an unexpected benefit as some of the warriors had been carrying pitch with which to burn the walls and the whole of the assault force was forced back leaving many writhing blackened bodies, unrecognisable as men..

Marius looked up at the sun which was past its zenith. He had used his last trick.  The next time the enemy came forward they would be able to attack the weak section of wall. He hoped at least one of his messengers had got through.  He shouted down to the reserve century.”Bolster the north west wall where it is weak.” As the men began to hammer wood against the inner walls Marius turned to the messenger.  “Go round and tell the men to piss against the walls when they need to go.” The man looked at his commander as though he had gone mad. “Tell them it is to make the walls harder to burn.” If the messengers got through them some of the walls might still be standing.

Two more messengers were lying in bloodied heaps, their heads adorning the spears thrust into the ground and the last two were being pursued by mounted Caledonii who sensed that they were close to victory as the Roman auxiliaries tired.

Chapter 2

Decurion Julius Demetrius was downhearted.  His men were surprised for the normally cheerful officer was never less than happy. Julius was unhappy because he knew that the Rome he loved had given up on the province.  The dismantling of the fort at Inchtuthil had been as momentous an event as Caesar crossing the Rubicon.  Julius was intelligent and well read.  He knew that had Julius Agricola been allowed to continue in Britannia then the whole province would have been conquered. But he was also intelligent enough to realise that Dacia was but a few days march from Rome itself and posed a greater threat especially to a paranoid Emperor who was desperate to stay in power. The conquest of Britannia had been tantalisingly close but now was as far off as the mystical land of India.

He halted his men for their noon rest. This patrol was the most northerly patrol of Marcus’ Horse.  Their first fort had been abandoned along with Inchtuthil and now they had another one south of Alavna. He remembered with sadness how he had felt as they had destroyed the walls, buried the nails, and filled in the ditches so that nothing could be used that they could not carry. It also meant that there was no sign that Rome had ever been there.  The grass would soon grow over the land which masked the blood shed by Julius’ comrades. They had held the land won by Agricola for a mere three years.  Soon the northernmost forts, the Batavians and Gauls would be joining the retreat south to the Tava perhaps the Prefect was right, perhaps a new line of forts, closer together would be the answer. He wondered how his father would view this.  He would probably regard it as a defeat.  During his time as prefect of Marcus’ Horse he had always held the barbarians in the lowest esteem. Prefect Marcus Aurelius Maximunius had never made that misjudgement. It was why the whole ala was constantly on patrol for he knew how cunning and determined the enemy could be.

His thirty men had automatically set pickets and shared out the roles related to noon breaks. Julius felt justly proud of their professionalism and their loyalty. He gazed northwards beyond the skyline to the last three outposts of Roman influence. Just fifteen hundred auxiliaries stood between Julius and the hundreds of thousands of barbarians.  Despite the defeats inflicted upon them they still came back with a seemingly inexhaustible supply of men. Despite their lack of armour they fought ferociously aided by a landscape which seemed to be an ally of the warriors. Certainly Julius had chosen his noon stop with great care.  They were in a clearing, on the top of a hill, giving them ample sight of approaching enemies. He was about to order the men to saddle up when he heard “Sir! Riders.”

His men quickly mounted and the added height enabled Julius to see two Roman auxiliary messengers being hotly pursued by eight barbarians. The turma was so well trained that not a word was spoken.  Julius led them town the hill and as he signalled with his left hand half the turma headed towards the rear of the attackers. Four men in each column held his bow in his left hand whilst the rest held a javelin in their right.

The two Roman messengers were becoming desperate.  Having been riding for seven hours their mounts were frothing heavily and labouring.  They, and their terrified riders, were almost exhausted to the point of death.  The two troopers glanced frantically over their shoulders and they could see in the inexorable end as the blue painted warriors closed upon them. Looking at each other they drew their swords. If they turned to face the enemy one of them might survive. The exchanged nod was all they needed.  They began to slow up their horses and they turned together. The leading blue faced warrior bared his teeth in joy and began to let out a scream, a war cry of victory. His joy was short lived as the arrow plunged into his throat and out of the back of the neck. Two more died as quickly and the remaining five looked around to see the source of the danger. They just had time to register the red cloaks and mounts of the Roman auxiliary before they were all despatched with arrow and javelin.

“Are we glad to see you sir.”

“Where are you from?”

“Cardean. The First Spear sent us.  The two forts to the north of us have been sacked and our unit was surrounded. He didn’t have time to march away.”

The other trooper had caught his breath enough to speak. “Ten of us set out. We found the bodies of two of the others.  We may be the only ones left.”

Thirty two pairs of eyes looked at the Decurion.  This was when he earned his pay.  The decision he would make could affect the next year’s warfare. “Gaius, Decimus. Ride back with these men to Prefect Strabo.  He’s at Bertha.  Give him the information.”

“And you sir?”

“I am going to find the rest of the ala and see if we can help the Batavians.” The two Batavians smiled with relief. “Remember their horses are tired. Feed them and rest for an hour and don’t push it.  Prefect Strabo can’t leave before first light anyway.”

Leading the turma west Julius pondered what to do.  He knew that he was the furthest north.  There were three turmae to the east but the other eight were to the west.  His chosen man, Livius Helva drew his horse next to him. “Sir?”

“The horns of a dilemma Livius.  The horns of a dilemma.  If we split up to find more of the ala we may suffer the same fate as the rest of the messengers but if we stay together we not find them in time.”

“What about the fort sir?  Will they hold?”

“I would have said yes Livius but for the fact that this enemy has destroyed two already which means he will be better armed with Roman swords, shields, spears and helmets.” He scanned the horizon. “Take two men and station yourself a thousand paces east of us. Take Albius with you.” Albius had a buccina and both men knew that its sound carried a long way.

The woods were thick with pine and scrubby undergrowth.  Not only did it make movement difficult but every rider, no matter how skilled had to watch not only for enemies but dangerous undergrowth. Every trooper had a weapon in one hand and his shield looped over his shoulder rather than being hung from his left leg.  None had ever heard of two forts being taken and the occupants slaughtered; it was a sobering thought.

Julius was relieved when it was a shout he heard from Livius and not the Buccina of Albius.  It meant that they had met with friends. When Decurion Princeps Decius Flavius rode into view Julius knew that the gods smiled on him for the Decurion Princeps was one of the two officers Julius held in the highest regard.  The grizzled old soldier should have retired three years earlier along with the prefect but Governor Lucullus had persuaded them both to stay on until the north was subjugated.

“Problems Decurion?”

Julius smiled.  Decius never changed.  He cut to the chase every time with the minimum time spent on words. “Looks like Calgathus has destroyed two cohorts and is besieging the third one at Cardean.”

“Shit! I assume you have sent word back to camp?”

“I sent three men back to Prefect Strabo.”

“He cannot get there before tomorrow evening. What were you planning then?”

“I was looking for more of the ala.  I thought if we had enough me we might be able to help the Batavians out.” He tailed off lamely.”Now that I explain it, it doesn’t seem such a good idea.”

Decius spat between his horse’s ears. “Don’t be so hard on yourself.  It’s the only idea.  If we sit here on our arses they will be slaughtered. If we go to help they may still be slaughtered but they might last a little longer.  We’ll carry on with your plan.  Besides I hate the blue painted arseholes.” His men all laughed and Julius smiled. “Stop laughing Annius.  Take two men and head west. Keep going until you have collected the rest of the ala and meet us at Cardean.  Minius take two of Decurion Demetrius’ men and head east.  You should catch us sooner rather than later. Right let’s ride. Sixty of us against, how many barbarians are there around here twenty thousand? Now that should guarantee a fight.”

They pushed hard through the forest until they came to the north-south trail which led to the fort. The hawking and screeching of the crows and magpies alerted them to the first of their dead comrades.  They found the mutilated bodies next to the skulls planted on a spear. Every man’s resolve hardened.  There was no point in surrender; this enemy never took prisoners and the death would be a slow and lingering one.

“We’ll bury them and have a short rest.”

They had just buried them when they heard the thundering of hooves coming up the trail. The two turmae went into a defensive position and then relaxed as Decurion Macro rode up with the other two Eastern patrols. While Julius mounted the two turmae Decius told Macro and the other decurions what the plan was. Despite the odds none of the officers of Marcus’ Horse disagreed with the assessment. They were confident enough in their own ability to believe that no matter what the odds they would emerge triumphant.

By the time night had fallen the whole of the ala was gathered together.  The last turma, led by Decurion Gaius Metellus Aurelius arrived as the camp was being finished.  From his side hung the fabled Sword of Cartimandua and the mere sight of it raised the spirits of every trooper. To them it was more than just a symbol it was a good luck charm, Carried first by Ulpius Felix and then the Prefect, they had never lost whilst it was carried by their leader. While the men ate the decurions discussed strategy.

“We have almost one thousand men.”

“There are five hundred in the fort.”

“There were five hundred in the fort and there could be twenty or thirty thousand barbarians surrounding it and just waiting for us to arrive.”

“Good point Gaius.  We need to know what the situation is.  Macro take half your turma and scout the fort.  Do not be seen and do not stay for a fight.” Scowling Macro left. Despite his admonition Decius knew that Macro was the stealthiest of warriors and would return without being discovered. “Julius, you are quiet which means you are thinking.  Come on give us ignorant shit shovellers and plebeians the benefit of your fine patrician education.”

Blushing Julius cleared his throat. “Well there aren’t enough of us for a frontal attack. But we have three things in our favour. We have horses and speed; we can escape.  We have arrows and can fire from distance and thirdly we have surprise.”

They all looked up at the last point.”How does that help us?”

“When their scouts do not return they will assume that messengers got through and that a relief force will be coming.”

“Makes sense.”             

They will be vigilant and waiting for an attack from the south.”

“And how does that help us?”

“We attack from the north.  They came from the north; they will feel safe and they will be preparing across the valley not beyond.”

“I like it Decius.”

“Yes Gaius but how do we get around them?”

“That depends on Macro.  If the fighting has died down and they are resting then we may be able to slip past them.”

“Which they should be if they have fought since dawn.”

“Right Cilo then we have a short rest and use the hours of darkness to get beyond them. It works in our favour if they send a force to ambush Prefect Strabo.”

“Right. “ Decius stood up. “Annius get your sorry arse here.”

Grinning Annius stood vaguely at attention.” Yes Decurion Princeps?”

“Take a trooper and go down the trail until you meet Prefect Strabo.  Tell him we are going to attack the Caledonii from the north which means he should be prepared to be ambushed as he moves to relieve the fort.  Got it?”

“Yes sir.”

“Well go on then and don’t get caught.  I am the only one allowed to kick your arse not the blue painted sheep shaggers.”

“First Spear!”