Hosker, G [Sword of Cartimandua 11] Roman Treachery (18 page)

The retreat began but ended half way through for the decurion when the signifier was stabbed in the leg.  Rufius wheeled around and grabbed the loose reins to lead the signifier’s horse from the battle.  The men who still lived galloped back towards the legion.  To his relief Rufius saw that the legion had despatched one warband and were marching resolutely towards the forest. Glancing around him he saw many empty saddles.  It had been costly but it had saved the First Cohort of the Sixth from an even greater disaster.

The warband which emerged from the forest had its number suddenly swollen by the warriors who had avoided the blades and shields of the Sixth.  They poured back from whence they came.  Had the cavalry not charged four times they could have pursued and destroyed them but Rufius knew it was too big a risk.  “Septimus keep your eye on them but don’t pursue.”

The big decurion grinned, “I am afraid that none of us could sir.  The lads are just about out on their feet and,” he ruffled his horse’s head, “as for these poor boys, I reckon they need a feed.”

“Good idea.” To the rest he shouted. “Get the grain bags out; they deserve it. Decurions go around and check the wounded, see to the dead.” The officers dismounted to begin the grim task of finding who had died and who was merely wounded.

Leaving his chosen man in charge Rufius rode over to the legionaries who were busily despatching the wounded Selgovae while the capsarii were busy with the Roman wounded. Quintus Licinius Brocchus strode over and clasped Rufius’ arm.  He gestured at the dead troopers.  “Thank you decurion.  I know that without your sacrifice we might have lost more men than we did.” He looked over to the camp, still burning and looking as though it was ready to collapse of its own accord.  “Shall we go and see what we fought for?”

“Aye.” Dismounting he followed First Spear across the battlefield.

Centurion Culpinus was lying on the floor with his leg supported by two legionaries while a capsarius tried to sew together the flap of skin which had been torn open. “Sorry I can’t stand sir.  This dickhead reckons I need to lie like this to stop losing my blood.”

The two legionaries were grinning while the capsarius carried on sewing. “You’ll be glad when I save your leg.  Or should I carry on doing what the barbarian was doing and chop your leg off.”

“You try that sunshine and you’ll get a gladius enema.”

First Spear bent towards the wounded man, “Well I am glad to see that you haven’t changed much Claudius. Still the same sour centurion with the silver tongue.” He leaned over to clasp his comrade’s arm. “Well done.  Sorry we couldn’t get here sooner.”

“Not your fault sir.  We need signal towers or something like that.  They came out of nowhere.”

“You were the lucky ones centurion.  They overran the Gauls in the west.”

The capsarius put the leg down.  “Now, no walking on it for at least three days.  If you pop those stitches I really will cut off your leg.” The fussy orderly marched off to deal with another wounded warrior.

When he had gone, and the three officers were alone, he said, “He’s better than a Greek doctor that one. “ He seemed to notice Rufius for the first time.  “Are you the lad who brought the cavalry?”

Quintus laughed.  “He is the officer commanding the cavalry yes Claudius.”

He held out his arm.  “Then thank you son.  You just about saved what is left of my command. You gave us time to reorganise.”

“My pleasure centurion.  How many men did you lose?”

He looked grimly around the field.  “We have less than one hundred effectives left out of four centuries. I reckon there are thirty who are wounded and will fight again but at least twenty of the lads are crippled.” He looked up at Quintus.  “Bit of a cock up sir eh?”

“As you say.  Bit of a cock up.”

The three of them looked around the carnage and devastation in silence until Rufius said.  “Well the good news is more of the ala is returning north.”

Quintus looked at the piles of bodies being reverently placed by the troopers and said, “Well I think you may need some recruits as well decurion.”

Chapter 12

Their pursuers were relentless.  None of them wished to risk the ire of Iucher.  They had been left to guard the hostage, the price of his son’s freedom and they had lost her. Honour demanded that they get her back or die trying. At the rear of the turma Sextus could hear them closing on them.  The horses could go little faster than a running man in this thick forest and the only advantage the horsemen had was that they would not be as tired as their enemies when it came to a fight and, the Roman warrior knew that it would come to down to a fight. If only they had something they could deploy to slow them down. Sextus almost slapped his own head at his stupidity. He turned to the trooper next to him. “Take out your caltrops.” To the two in front he said, “You two, take out your caltrops and then throw them on either side of you.” He reached down to his saddlebags and took his handful out.  To the trooper next to him he said, “Throw them behind you.” The four of them dispersed their small number of caltrops; they were wicked pieces of metal which always had a spike upwards no matter how they landed.  Sextus was counting on the fact that their pursuers might either be barefoot or only have fur shoes.  Either way it would hurt.

Suddenly, from behind there came a scream, followed by another and then a string of what sounded like Votadini obscenities. “That’ll teach you, fucking barbarians, if you had proper shoes you might have caught us.” He risked a look behind and saw that the barbarians had dropped back as they negotiated what they thought was another trap laden area. It gave them time to increase their lead. 

Marcus saw the edge of the forest looming up when the light in the dim murk began to brighten. They had almost made it.  He could see, four miles away the magnificent stone monument that was the wall.  He could not see a gate but it didn’t matter, the wall meant safety. He halted the turma. The horses needed a breather.  Sextus rode next to him.  “We slowed them up with caltrops sir.”

“Excellent idea.” He turned to the ret of the troopers, “All of you sow your caltrops in a line behind us.” His men cheerfully emptied their bags of the handfuls of caltrops that they all carried.  “How far Sextus?”

“There they are!” The first Votadini could be seen as a white face a hundred paces back.

“Right! Let’s go.  We should be able to outdistance them on this open stretch.” He led them at a brisk pace and then, to his horror, saw the band of riders who had left the camp the previous night. It was the chief returning from the fort. The Romans were seen as the same time and, with the girl at the front it was obvious what had occurred. The Selgovae and Brigante riders kicked hard towards the turma.  Marcus knew that he could not risk the girl being caught and the rest of the tribe were hot on his heels.  “Head west, try to out run them. Sextus lead them off and stay with the girl.”

The men needed no urging but the horse carrying Felix and the girl was struggling with the double weight.  Felix was aware of the dilemma and, saying, “Sorry,” slipped from the horse.  He ran alongside it with Wolf ahead of them.

“What are you doing Felix?”

“I will keep up.” He grinned.  “I have had a rest now.”

The girl’s horse picked up the pace and they began to stretch away from the running barbarians but those on horses closed with them. Marcus knew he would have to delay them. “The last ten troopers on me!”

He slowed his horse down and began to angle away from Sextus and the others. “Javelins!” He turned to see who had followed him and that they had done as he asked.  To his surprise three of them were his new recruits. Their faces did not look worried but excited. “Stay close to me you three.  These warriors are the best the Selgovae have and these are neither half asleep nor drunk! We throw one javelin and then we run.  Clear!”

They all chorused, cheerfully, “Sir, yes sir.”

Iucher had seen the girl and was incandescent with rage, if they returned to the fort with her then his son would die and this would have all been a waste.  He urged his horse on.  If he could cut them off from their escape then his men could close with them and he could recapture the girl and show the Romans true torture. When the ten men rode towards him he almost laughed.  Some of them, he could see, were no more than boys.  He was a warrior who had fought many times and never lost. These Romans would die at his hand.

Marcus watched the angle at which the enemy approached.  “Go for the horses!” Part of Marcus was thinking of slowing down the enemy but another part remembered that they were largely recruits- a horse was a bigger target. “Loose!” His men threw their javelins and two horses pitched to the ground throwing their riders.  One struck a warrior and hurled him to the ground.  Two others struck men but they still rode towards them. “Wheel right!”

Anxious to get away the eleven troopers dragged their weary horses around. One of the troopers, Publius, was unfortunate; his horse found a rabbit hole and he was thrown to the ground, landing less than thirty paces from the warriors, eager for blood.  Iucher, Briac and the remaining riders homed in on the dazed man as he struggled to his feet, still dazed and winded from the fall. Before they could reach him, and Marcus react, Vibius and Scanlan had turned their mounts around and as Vibius slashed his sword to half sever the Votadini warrior’s face, Scanlan grabbed Publius and hauled him across the neck of his horse.  Marcus managed to halt his horse and hurl his javelin to strike Iucher’s horse in the chest. “Ride! Ride like you have never ridden before!”

When Iucher fell to the ground, the heart went out of the rest as they raced to help up their leader. He cursed and stuck them as they helped him to his feet.  “Catch them! You imbeciles! Catch them! They take with them the life of my son!”

By the time Marcus caught up with his men they were within bowshot of the wall and the sentries were looking down on the scene with a mixture curious and concerned expressions. Sextus held the reins of Vibia’s horse and he led her towards the gate which they could see.  Felix was already there with Wolf, having taken a short cut across the rocky outcrop which meant a detour for the horses. The optio on the gate recognised the standard and the uniforms and ordered the gate opened. Here was a story to alleviate the boredom of sentry duty on the wall; where had the horse warriors found such a beautiful girl out here in the middle of nowhere? It just didn’t seem fair, they were paid more money, they could ride and not walk and now they were finding women in the middle of the barbarian’s forest.

They had reached a gate some fifteen miles from Cilurnum.  Marcus briefly told the Gallic centurion at the gate what had occurred. “There is a huge warband in the forest to the north and their war chief was one of those on horses.  They may be just pissed off enough to attack.  I should watch out.”

The Gaul nodded.  “I wouldn’t worry too much decurion, your lads and the Sixth knocked the Selgovae about a bit.  We have a little more support.”

“Good!”

“Too right.  It means we can do a bit of proper soldier work and not spend all our time shitting concrete!”

“Turma wheel left!” As they rode along Marcus shouted to Scanlan and Vibius.  Scanlan was still riding double with Publius.”That was very brave of you lads.” They both blushed and grinned at what they took to be a compliment. “And also stupid.  If you ever do that again I will have you on a charge.” The joy dropped from their faces in an instant. “I am only letting you off because you are recruits.” They looked at each other in confusion. ”What are my standing orders Publius?”

“If a man is dismounted the rest leave him.” He smiled at the two recruits.  “I am grateful you came back for me but I didn’t expect it. I would have slowed down the enemy and you would all have escaped.”

Vibius asked, “Truly?”

“Truly.”

Leaving the recruits to ponder his words he rode forwards to Sextus and Vibia. “Take the rear Sextus.  It is time I spoke with our guest.”

Vibia Dives turned to him and gave him a smile which melted his heart.  Her green eyes glowed like those of a contented cat. Marcus forced himself to think of his wife at home and resist the stirring in his loins. “I want to thank you for coming for me decurion.”

“I was just following orders.”

She pouted, “You mean had you had a choice you would have left me there?”

Marcus blushed, “No, er, what I mean is you don’t need to thank me for doing my duty. None of us wish to see Roman women as prisoners.”

“Ah!”

“My mother was held captive for many years by the Caledonii until my father rescued her so I understand what you must have been going through.”

“Sorry for what I said.  What I really meant was thank you for risking so much.  You may have been under orders but I do not think those orders including sneaking into the enemy camp and spiriting me away.  That was not only brave but showed great resourcefulness. And with such young boys too.”

“They were chosen because they could pass for barbarians.  Any of the men could have done as they did.”

“Even so I am grateful and I will endeavour to show my gratitude when I can.” Her eyes fluttered and she leaned over to place a hand on his.

Marcus smiled and withdrew his hand; there was something about this beautiful young woman that was dangerous.  He had been amazed at how calm she had been and how well she had reacted to the ordeal.  There was ore to her than met the eye. “No need to miss.  It is all in a day’s work here, at the sharp end of the frontier.” He would be glad to reach the fort and hand his charge over to the Legate.  He could deal with her then.

“There is one thing decurion, one of the men who helped them to abduct me was one of your troopers.”

Marcus looked behind him at the turma, “One of my lads?”

“No, not these but a trooper dressed as your men in Eboracum.  I recognised him.”

That gave Marcus pause for thought.  It confirmed what Belenus had said and was even more specific, it was the unthinkable, and the traitor was one of their own.

The first thing Marcus noticed as he led his weary turma towards the southern gate, was the number of birds across the river.  As he saluted to the sentry on duty he asked, “Where did all the birds come from?”