by C K Ruppelt
They urged their horses on down the road.
***
“Father!” Drestan called out a short time later, steering his horse close to Haerviu to reach out for a brief touching of hands. They both smiled, not having seen each other for many months.
“I am glad you made it in time before we get to it. I apologize for sending the messenger out late,” his father said. “What do you say? We haven’t had a gathering this big in fifty years or more. With the Sequani and Arverni emboldened by their new allies, the council unanimously agreed to an overwhelming show of force. Look around, nearly everybody you know from back home is here.”
Drestan scanned the group around his father until he saw grinning faces belonging to two of his older brothers. “Haedan! Suibhan! It’s been too long,” he called as he rode over to them. “Are Nectan and Liscan here as well?”
“No, Nectan is Vergobret this year and wanted to stay in the capital. Liscan is traveling south to the Roman province for a trade deal,” Suibhan replied. “You know that Nectan made you and me the only brothers that haven’t been Vergobret, yet.” They grinned at each other and Drestan realized how much he had missed his family. It was good to see his brothers and the easy banter made him feel as if no time had passed since their time together at their parent’s homestead.
Drestan saw somebody else moving up from the corner of his eyes. “Divitiaco!” He moved in to clap him on the shoulder. “I haven’t seen you since Aina’s wedding.” He looked at his friend, who was part of a rare breed of both warrior and journeyman druid. He wore different shades of white from head to toe and was cleanshaven as always, in contrast to the heavy mustaches of the older warriors around him, or the full beard his own father sported. “Is that a new golden pin holding your cloak together?” Drestan sharply breathed in. “It’s a yew tree?” Divitiaco nodded in response.
“Congratulations! You’ve always been a master with your weapons, and now you are a master druid,” He told his grinning friend.
“I frankly thought the studying would never end. It surprised me when my master told me that I was ready for the test.” They both turned their heads to see Haerviu and his grandchildren greet each other. Oh, how Drestan had missed this. I need to visit Bibracte more often, and I should find excuses to take the children with me. They need the family connection as much as I do.
Somebody shouted out, and everybody looked out ahead at the land. The host had come close enough to see the town of Magetobriga, located halfway up the pass visible in the distance. The town effectively straddled and controlled access up the main road over the mountain to where the rafts laden with goods landed after navigating the Mosella river. The town itself, and half a mile of the open approach to it was bordered by old-growth forest. The cleared corridor to both sides of the road was only a couple hundred feet wide.
“There it is,” Haerviu stated the obvious as all of them took in the sight.
Though Drestan expected a long and prolonged fight, he had no doubt about the outcome. Even with the Suebi king Ariovist and his warriors in the mix, the Sequani and the Arverni could never equal the great Aedui host his father had gathered. He looked behind to see battle-ready Aedui as far as the eye could see. “So, how many did you bring, father?”
“We should be about eighty thousand in total.”
They rode on in silence for a few minutes, with everybody studying the land. Several riders moved out of the southern and the northern forest, quickly approaching the head of the host. “Let’s hear what our scouts found out.”
The warriors from the north were first to make it to the small group around Haerviu. The scout leader nodded to the war leader and spoke. “We went up several miles into the northern foothills. The Sequani hold a fortified lookout there on the ridge with a few hundred men. We did not find anybody else.”
In the meantime, the scouts from the southern forest had arrived and one of them had come up to report. “We rode in a wide circle around the forest and came back through the middle of it. No evidence of anybody having been through or hiding in there. We found some empty and abandoned old buildings, nothing else.”
Drestan studied his father throughout the scout’s reporting. After the last question for more details was answered, he could tell by the look of determination on his father’s face that he had made up his mind.
“We need to send warriors up to take the lookout from the Sequani there. Once that is captured, that party needs to watch for enemy movements in or around the town and report back. They are likely holed up in the town itself, but let’s be sure,” Haerviu turned to two of his older friends. “Once we reach the forest corridor, I want you to stay behind and hold the approach against anybody trying to get behind us.” The men looked disappointed but did not complain. His father turned his horse back forward. “The main host will approach the town and check the wall for weaknesses, plus scout the immediate surroundings. I have my doubt that we can get them out for a pitched battle.”
He looked at Haedan and Suibhan. “We need a few hundred riders to comb the woods ahead of us to spring any traps they may have set.” They nodded back at their father with an eager look in their eyes.
Then Haerviu’s eyes settled on him. “Drestan, how would you like to lead the party to take down the lookout? Yes? Good. Divitiaco, Feidelan, Nochtan, would you support him with your people?” Seeing the men nod, he continued. “That should be enough to make quick work of a few hundred Sequani.” Drestan waited for his father’s blessing so he could take off.
“The rest of you will follow me to the town.” His father raised both his hands before he continued. “May Andarta, honored goddess of war, ride with us and guide us.” Now, they all moved apart to gather their warriors. Drestan pushed his horse to get back to his townspeople.
***
An hour later, Aina, Bradan, and their fellow scouts fell back to where her father and the other chieftains rode up the mountainside. Aina arrived first, pulled up her reins, and shouted. “They are settled in at a solid wooden fort. It’s well built with only one gate. The walls are ten feet, and the lookout tower itself is the only thing tall enough on this hill for a good vantage above the surrounding trees.”
“That just reinforces the need to take the fort. We better do it fast,” her father responded. “Let’s get closer before we decide on the how. Will they see us coming?”
“Yes, if we stay on this trail. We can turn left, and come from above and behind,” Aina answered. Divitiaco and Drestan both nodded at her. “Follow me,” she called, urging her horse off the trail to go around the next stand of trees instead of through. A few minutes later, she figured they were close. She raised her hand to stop everybody. “Time to get off.” She fastened her reins to a small sapling and joined her father to walk to the tree line on the camp’s backside. None of the enemy showed on the wall next to them. It seemed the whole garrison was at the front side, watching the trail to the west or the town to the south. She looked to her father, who had raised his head upwards.
“I think I have a suggestion on what we should do,” Drestan said with a glance at Divitiaco, Feidelan and Nochtan. He pointed at the two tallest trees facing the hillfort. Their eyes grew big as they nodded in understanding.
“Let’s get back and see who brought axes,” Nochtan retorted.
A few minutes later, rhythmic noises echoed through the woods. The axes slowly cut down the biggest trees beyond the camps northern wall. Aina stood in one of their two shield walls, ready and waiting. Within a few minutes, the enemy archers started launching arrows at them, but their shields sufficiently covered the axe men. The two burly men behind her hit the tree from each side, working in perfect synchronicity.
The other team was first to shout. “It’s falling!” She could hear the tearing sounds of the tree’s trunk parting, followed by the rumbling impact when it hit the wall. Divitiaco shouted. “Hold steady, people! Wait for it!” Within a couple minutes the second fir came crashing down. She moved asi
de with the other warriors to get out of the way of the massive trunk as it fell and took down a huge portion of the wall. It’s very tip clipped the side of the tower. We need that watch tower!
The whole structure swayed back and forth a few times, before finally settling. Her father sighed loud in relief. “Let’s get them!” he shouted.
The Aedui around her surged forward. Her friend Rionach was the first through their breach in the wall, screaming swear words at the Sequani as loud as she could, while running straight at the first man standing in her way. Rionach held her sword at half height, feinting a defensive position while the warrior prepared a downward strike. She broke her run on the dirt, sliding to the left at the last moment to stay out of the man’s reach, but using her own sword to open his leg in the process. The Sequani screamed and went down. Now Aina was through the breach herself and needed to deal with a warrior running straight at her. The young man seemed distracted by all the Aedui warriors around him, allowing her to quickly take him out with a stab to the side. She looked up to see a female Sequani standing halfway up the tower, readying her spear for a throw. She followed the woman’s aim and realized the target was her friend. “Rionach, watch out!” she screamed, but it was too late. The woman released her spear in one smooth motion. At the last possible moment, a tall blond warrior stepped in from behind Rionach’s side with a shield to catch the spear. It penetrated halfway through, stopping short of Rionach. Aina saw the tall woman smiling and winking at her friend and she had to grin. It looked like she had found somebody else to watch her back.
After the brief initial resistance, the much bigger numbers of the Aedui overwhelmed the Sequani. Aina scanned the fort and saw no enemies left standing.
“There is a full battle going on!” came a shout from the top of the tower. Her father ran up the stairs, and she went to join him, with Divitiaco, Elsed and several others close behind her.
Her hands made involuntary fists when she saw the embattled Aedui host below. They had made it close to the town before becoming encircled by a growing number of Sequani and Arverni, steadily emerging from both sides of the tree corridor and the open area around the town. A big number of the enemy had cut between the main host and the warriors stationed at the end of the tree corridor. That force now got involved as well, riding into the fray. Somehow, the Sequani and Arverni had collected a much bigger host than any of her clansmen had thought possible, evaded the Aedui scouts and patiently waited to close their trap.
Her father turned to all of them. “We need to get back to our horses and join our people down there,” he stated loudly.
“Wait!” Aina shouted and raised her hand. She had spotted a huge number of riders emerging from beyond the southern woods, galloping straight north until reaching the road and turning into the tree corridor. Aina’s eyes narrowed, and she held her breath, shivering involuntarily. These must be the Suebi; they were unmistakable. The tribes across the Rhenus were legendary for their savage fighting abilities, and many Aedui parents used them as boogeymen for their unruly youngsters. The Suebi’s clothes were similar to the Celt’s, as were their helmets and shields. But these warriors down there all held spears, only a few had any kind of body armor, and their much smaller horses were shared by two warriors. One rode while another hung off the side, hanging on to the horse’s four-horn saddles.
“How can there be so many of them?” her father said from her side. “We need to get to my father and brothers, Aina. We need to move, now!”
She rushed after her father, down the tower’s ladder and to their horses.
***
Drestan and his fellow riders galloped down the hill in a mad-dash to get to the rear of the Suebi. How many warriors they were approaching was hard to tell, but they were enough for his force to be hopelessly outmatched. Drestan looked at both of his sons next to him. Elsed had his sword drawn, eager to get at the enemy. Morcant, dressed in his white druid tunic, clutched a long spear meant for self-defense.
“Time for you to fall back!” he told his younger son. Morcant had come for his ability to save lives as a field medic, not to fight.
Their three thousand strong force crashed into the rear of the unsuspecting enemy and created havoc. He briefly saw Aina fighting close by, and his son-in-law Bradan on the far side of Elsed, before a Suebi fighter in front of him left him no time to worry. He cut through as many enemies as he could, before the cluster of riders and horses left no way forward. He had hoped to see the main Aedui army beyond them by now but realized it had been false hope. There must be twenty thousand or more German warriors in front of us.
The Suebi quickly rallied against the attack hitting their rear, and Drestan saw more and more of his warriors taken down. With a heavy heart he made the decision to disengage. They would either fight another day or all perish. “Sound the retreat!” he shouted at the next man he saw with a carnyx tied to his saddle. With the call sounding, his warriors tried to get away, though many were cut down while turning their horses.
Drestan got loose and looked to the side. Aina’s husband was in trouble, and he guided his horse in Bradan’s direction. The young man’s horse had been killed, and though he was still in the fight, his side was bleeding heavily. Drestan rode his horse right into the Suebi combatant Bradan was struggling with, followed by a long downward slash with his sword. He pulled his son-in-law up to where he could hold on to one of his saddle horns and rode west toward their tribal lands.
Some of the enemy pursued them for a couple of hours before breaking off to turn back. As soon as the Suebi were out of sight, Drestan raised his hand to signal for the group to stop. Bradan let go of the saddle and massaged his cramping hands and arms. He saw Aina jumping off her horse to check her husband. “How does he look?” Drestan asked.
“It’s a long cut, but not very deep,” his daughter replied. “I’ll tease him soon enough about the long scar he’ll have from today.”
Drestan scanned the familiar faces. He felt helpless. Waves of sadness and frustration rolling through him. Everybody else seemed solemn as well. My family is dying out there.
They walked towards a small wood, where the wounded could rest to catch their breath. Morcant was in his element now, administering first aid, cleaning and stitching wounds. “Whoever is able and willing, come back with me towards Magetobriga. We will see if there is anything left we can do.” Drestan collected about fifteen hundred warriors, and they made their way back to within sight of the town. He kept a wary eye on the road by sending several scouting parties for a closer look.
The gravity of it all started to sink in. The battle was lost, and with it the forces that had been trapped. I know my father and my brothers will soon be dead if they are not already, fighting to the death rather than surrender like some of the younger warriors. They won’t choose to become slaves of the Germans or the Sequani.
Drestan kept his force close to the town until late into the night when they collected survivors that had hidden during the day, waiting to escape the forest after sundown. Those warriors confirmed his worst fears. The great and proud host of the Aedui was no more.
SECUNDUS
Temet Nosce (Know Thyself)
“A bad peace is worse than war.”
Cornelius Tacitus, Annales, book III
692 AUC (62 BC), spring
Outside of Oaxos, Crete, Roman Province of Crete et Cyrene
Nico rotated his sling at a high speed above his head. He took his time, aiming carefully. The stone hit the whicker target with a loud whack.
“Put that away brother, and use your bow instead,” Penthylos chided him. “If you want to sign on with the Romans as an auxiliary, you better concentrate on your archery.”
Most of the younger male siblings of Crete trained from childhood with a traditional double-convex bow, Crete’s claim to fame in the known world and beyond. Made from a combination of wood, animal horn, tendons, sinews and glue, they were similar to the eastern bows of the time, except for the spe
cific wood used. Native Cretan Beech was very hard yet remained very flexible. This exceptional quality gave good range at a length easily manageable for deployment from horse back.
Cretan archers had been hired as mercenaries since time immemorial. Even the Macedonian Alexander the Great had Cretan archers to help him fight his way to India. And now the Romans routinely hired them for the last hundred years or more. If they came home, they were rich enough to buy a big farm or estate. Of course, most never came back, either dying or settling in some foreign land.
“I guess you are right, brother. I left it in my room.” They walked back together to their parent’s farm house, by the sheep being herded to the foot hills for grazing, the big new shed for cheese making, the groves of olives getting harvested, and another shed used for sheering the sheep and later spinning the threads into wool.
After losing Timon, he had made up his mind to come home to Oaxos, at least for a while. He knew he could never go back to slave trading, his experience with Timon had opened his eyes. Slaves were normal people down on their luck and should never be treated like cattle. Since there was barely enough work on the farm to support his older brothers and their big families, he had restarted his weapons training, with the goal of signing up with the Romans. Penthylos had agreed to help him procure a decent horse. His savings were enough for an older mare.
He glanced at his brother with a wistful smile on his lips and patted the sword at his hip. The sheath was hanging from a long leather strap, worn over his opposite shoulder. “I still can’t believe that you sold me your beautiful sword for half the price you paid yourself.”
“Don’t worry, Nico. You know I would never use it now that I have Eupraxia and the children. My dreams of battles in foreign lands are long over.”
