“Trumpets” he called as another voice simultaneously shouted “Romans” then another and another. Sentillius flicked his head from side to side, suddenly thinking they were under attack, but it was Vitulus who brought him back to face the front.
“There” he pointed as the light began to spread across the plain. As his eyes caught the first rays of light to hit the plain in front of him he inhaled sharply through his gritted teeth. Standing in five deep phalanxes were several thousand Roman soldiers stood in absolute silence, their armour just catching the morning sun as it split the sky. To make him even angrier they were standing in exactly the position Sentillius had decided to take to gain the initiative for the coming battle.
****
Marcus rode down from the tree line as soon as the light spread across the plain enough for him to easily gallop across the few hundred yards, his heavy guard following at his heel. The manoeuvre had been perfect, the Etruscans now caught in the no man’s land between the favoured position on the plain and the rocky outcrops to their right beyond which lay Marcus’ Eagles with Narcius at their head. He had spent hours discussing the positions and counter movements that the Etruscans might take and now it was up to their leaders to decide the next steps, his officers were drilled for every eventuality – he hoped.
He heard an angry roar from the Etruscans as the sun gave them their first glimpse of the Roman lines of men, a cheer and a number of rude shouts coming back from the Romans as the curses of their enemy leader’s anger split the air. Marcus grinned, knowing that this was a small victory, but a victory nonetheless.
Reaching the centre of the battle line he reined in and searched in the half light for Fasculus. Spotting him he called him over.
“Have you got the spear?” he asked as Fasculus nodded and produced a four foot long spear which he handed to Marcus and smiled.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” he asked.
“We know the gods are with us Fasculus” came the steady but confident reply “but they don’t, so I’d better tell them” he added with a broad grin.
The two armies stood in, mostly, silence as the sun continued its slow rise above the hill. As the plain became visible to each army it was clear that the Romans had stolen the better ground, forcing the Etruscans into the land which bordered the two roads to the town. The land was flat and green in many places, but also rocky with small outcrops and boulders which would hamper a marching phalanx. The Romans, on the other hand, held the better ground, flat plains of mostly grass with hardly any boulders and plenty of room to wheel a thousand men in formation. Sentillius snarled as Marcus smiled at the, unpopular but necessary, decision to march the men in the pre-dawn darkness.
As soon as the rays of light lit the plain enough for him to gallop forwards Marcus and two men, both draped in the robes of priests, set off into the gap between the soldiers, the enemy sending a number of skirmishing velites forward. Marcus held up the short spear, which would be known by the Etruscans as a religious instrument for proclaiming war. The velites stood, turning back to their leaders for a decision as Marcus continued forwards, his red robe billowing behind him. As he approached the first Etruscan he called in their deep throated language “I am Marcus Furius Camillus and this land is declared Roman by the rights of warfare set out by Mars, war-bringer, Jupiter greatest and most powerful and Juno, the queen of the earth who has made her decision known to come to Rome with her glorious soldiers when we take the city of Veii.” At this he threw the spear into the ground and stared at the face of the two leaders in the centre of the Etruscan line, each staring back at him open-mouthed before he wheeled his horse and galloped back to the Roman line, happy that the correct procedure had been delivered as a prelude to the coming battle. Another small victory, and one that the Etruscan soldiers would understand.
Marcus fell in behind the leading phalanx of soldiers, their cheering at his return causing him to wave and smile to them all. As he turned he called the officers to him but remained on his mount as he craned his neck to see what actions the Etruscans might take. They too, it seemed by the horses racing across to the centre where the two leaders he had seen moments before were standing, were discussing their next actions. Directly ahead lay the Etruscans, four or five thick phalanxes of men bristling with long twelve foot spears, their number spread out across the two roads which led to the city of Napete. On his left, away beyond the edge of the road lay the river, its water wide and deep and a natural boundary which edged closer to the Etruscans line than it did the Romans as it meandered away from the city. To the right and moving towards the low hills were long stretches of deeper grass and clusters of boulders, the land not much use for any kind of military manoeuvre, yet the four hundred yards between the enemy right, as he looked at it, and the features could still hold options for both armies. Directly behind the Etruscans was the city, maybe a quarter of a mile, enough for them to beat a retreat and march to the city without being caught. Marcus believed the Etruscans would think their soldiers superior to his own and so would stand and fight so had ignored the consideration to march closer to the city to be able to chase any retreat, his preferred option of the better ground being more persuasive in his own mind. He clutched the wooden eagle and small tube holding the words of the prophecy which hung around his neck and closed his eyes to pray to Juno that her words were true and he would bring Rome glory. As he opened his eyes he caught the first of the officers arriving at a trot, seeing the others closing in fast. Nodding to the arrivals he stretched his back and blinked his eyes several times. His sleep had been fitful and the early hour at which he had risen had left him tired, though the sudden activity of the last few moments had wakened him quickly. He watched the Etruscans as their officers huddled together in the central line, no doubt watching him doing the same. He smiled at the thought, though he watched the rear of the Etruscan line to check that no scouts were heading out towards the river and the dip to his left.
“All present” came the chirpy voice of Fasculus as Marcus brought his attention back to the row of men standing, or sat on horses, around him.
“Good” he answered as he smiled briefly at the faces looking towards him, eyes peering from under thick rimmed helmets and brightly coloured feathers standing proudly into the sky, each face urgent and eager to hear his words. He considered the enemy for a heartbeat longer before he spoke. “You have your orders” he said as heads nodded sharply. “Whatever plan the enemy brings we will beat them. We will beat them because they think we are incapable of moving quickly and efficiently. We will beat them because Jupiter, Mars and the goddess Juno are with us” he said as the shadowy eyes of the men below him looked up at him more intently, some grinning, others tight lipped. “The attack plan starts as soon as you return to your units, we must take the initiative to allow Narcius the space to come to their rear. Scipio” he said as he looked to his friend on his right “are the Eques ready?”
“Yes Sir” came the stout reply. Marcus wished he had asked Narcius to bring the scorpions, but he knew that travelling with them would have slowed the men down and possibly left him without the quick and deadly Eagles that he needed.
“Then be brave and may the gods favour us” he said as he nodded to each face in turn before waving the officers away. He looked up quickly and saw that the Etruscan leaders were still deep in conversation, their heads bobbing up and down and arms waving left and right. Perfect he thought, they are not yet ready, they did not expect us to be here and had not planned for such an eventuality. As his personal fears rose up and his mind started to rush through things that might go wrong with his attack plans he heard the first trumpet from his left as the first Roman phalanx stepped forwards, its march leading to a second trumpet from directly in front of him and the second phalanx moving. Classic warfare, he thought as he scanned the leaders of the Etruscans, their faces turning at the movement and arms waving more wildly. The third trumpet set the third phalanx, on his right, into motion, a group of three
hundred Eques stepping out beyond them to hold the right edge of his attack as he noted the Etruscans split their horses into two units, one heading left, the other right. As he expected, and hoped, none of the Etruscans were heading for the river, thinking that the natural boundary was just that, a limit to the edge of the battlefield.
Marcus knew that the drilling of the men in how to form the lines he wanted had been problematic and that to carry the extra, lightweight, spears had also been difficult, indeed some of the older soldiers had injured themselves in their attempts to wheel and move away from the man to their right, but it had to be done, and done quickly. He wondered if he had been too hasty as he watched the three phalanxes walk forwards slowly, he needed the enemy to close the gaps more quickly and tire themselves so that the Romans could make their changes to the lines before they hit the Etruscans. Velites raced ahead, stones and smaller javelins flying at the enemy as the men raced in and out across the plain, the Etruscan velites doing the same. Marcus looked to his right and left and saw the Eques holding their horses back at the edges of his lines, the beasts stomping at the ground waiting to be let loose. He smiled at the calm look on Scipio’s face, his eyes meeting Marcus and smiling as he turned back to the men around him and yelled something that Marcus could not hear, the cheer being echoed by his men.
The rear phalanxes began to move and Marcus edged forwards with his horse, which angrily flicked its tail and pulled its head high as he nudged its flanks. Ahead over the city he caught a movement which made his heart leap, a speck, no two, which appeared and then disappeared under the dust that had started to rise in front of him. There there were again, their unmistakable wings spread into the soaring action of Eagles.
“There” he called, his words causing momentary confusion as the men around him, the older, richer men of the Triarii looked to him before following his eyes and outstretched arm.
“The Eagle” called one man, his greying beard trimmed close to his face and sharp brown eyes looking to Marcus with a broad grin. “The gods are with us, look” he yelled as more men called and pointed, the cry starting to rumble forwards as the men in front heard the shout. Within moments a loud cheer had started from the Roman lines as the men crashed their spears and sword onto their shields screaming “For Rome” as they marched forwards.
Marcus swallowed hard, pride welling up inside him as he nodded to the faces around him and screamed “For Rome” thrusting his sword into the sky and thanking Juno silently for the sign.
****
“They are marching straight at us” Sentillius said with a snarl “set the lines and march straight back, we will push those dogs into the river, outflank their left and wheel them to the water’s edge. Old men and boys” he sneered as the second trumpet came from the Roman lines and the middle of the three front phalanxes started to march directly at them.
“See” he waved wildly at the Romans. “They have no plan other than to walk at us with their old men and boys, pah” he added dismissively.
Magnamus grinned and slapped his shoulder. “I agree” he said with a look to Vitulus “look, they march straight at us with no thought other than to overwhelm us with their numbers.” The leaders all turned to see the third phalanx start to march towards them, the lines of the reserve also moving forwards behind the main attack.
“Then we agree” Sentillius said. “Send the horse to both edges and set the men at the Romans, we wheel them to the right and outflank their left. Push the scum into the river and let the water spirits drown them” he said as the men all shouted and nodded agreement. Instantly the men disappeared to their tribes and soldiers, Sentillius taking a few moments to check that the Romans were truly just walking straight at his sturdier and battle trained men. He shook his head at the arrogance and let out a deep sigh, today would be a great victory and he, Sentillius, would take all the land to the River Tiber as his spoils once the Romans were dead. He smiled at the thought.
As he thought the words the Romans let out a blood curdling yell and started to bash their shields, the sound bursting across the plain in a rising crescendo. What a noise, he thought as he looked to the men around him and started to shout back at the Romans, the men taking his lead and screaming curses into the air as they set off in their deep rows of men, shields and spears towards their enemy.
****
A high pitched trumpet called from the rear of the Roman lines, three long phalanxes spread across hundreds of yards all moving in unison as soon as the note came. At the sound the velites fell back from the leading Etruscans and turned to sprint back towards the twelve men deep ranks of Romans as the Etruscans raised a louder scream, their voices cajoling the running men as cowards and old women. The Roman velites smiled to themselves as they ran, the gap between the two armies now no more than sixty or seventy paces as each phalanx marched straight towards the other. As the velites approached their own lines the rear six rows of men were called to a standstill by their Centurions, those too eager stepping forwards two or three steps before being called back. The front rows split, every other man moving to their right so that to the oncoming Etruscans the Roman line seemed to double in length within a matter of seconds, the velites disappearing into the gaps between the men. The rear lines stopped marching and the reserve force also came to a standstill as soon as the front lines split. Marcus watched the movements anxiously.
The movement caused a momentary confusion in the front rows of the Etruscan phalanx, the front men slowing and being pushed from the rear causing laughter amongst the Romans. The front rank of Romans then threw their long spears to the floor and turned sideways, their arms stretching back behind them as they took a long look into the faces of the Etruscans.
Sentillius frowned but saw only an opportunity, gaps in a phalanx, the Romans were turning to run, surely this would be an easy victory he thought as he turned his head to his men and screamed “Kill them all, forwards” and turned to see the sky turn dark above him, a sudden fear gripping his heart as he struggled momentarily to understand what was happening.
****
Marcus edged his horse forwards and lifted himself off its back so that he could see the movement he had drilled the men into over the past two days. It hadn’t been long, but at every stop during their march the Centurions and officers had explained the movement and drilled the men in what to do. He realised he was holding his breath as the back rows of two thousand soldiers came to a sudden stop, the calls from their Centurions almost instant as the trumpet blew its high pitched note across the battlefield, the signal they had been trained to listen for had come.
Marcus marvelled at the sudden movement, men stepping forward three paces and to their right and throwing their long spears to the ground so that they could gain the space they needed to stretch back their arms and let fly the thin, deadly, javelins he had brought by the thousand. The javelins lifted into the sky, the noise of men grunting as they threw the weapons in one long line causing every other noise to suddenly fall still. The sky grew dark with the weapons as they arched into the sky and then began to fall, the Etruscans in their deep ranks starting to buckle as the sharp spears crashed into their rear lines.
Marcus watched, his military mind going through what he expected to happen and what the effect really was. He had expected the Etruscans to lift their shields but continue to march, but the effect was far more pronounced. The front five rows of Etruscans came to a standstill as they struggled to lift their shields in the confined space of the phalanx, the javelins slicing into the wood with a loud thud which was immediately followed by screams as men fell under the hail of iron tipped missiles. The rows behind the falling men jostled and pushed, their momentum causing a buckling of the line as the Etruscans at the front fell to the unexpected javelins, but the men in the rear continued to march forwards and pushed their comrades from behind.
‘Now’ Marcus thought as a series of yells came to his ears above the screams of the dying, the Centurions calling ‘release’ as the sk
y grew dark again and the phalanx edged backwards, the right edge moving more quickly backwards than the middle. He turned his head quickly to see the Eques darting into the right edge of the Etruscan phalanx, the first row cowering as the second series of javelins hit home followed by the immediate charge of the Roman horses. The Etruscan cavalry moved forwards just as he hoped, their action meant as a counter move to that of Scipio who began to wheel his men away from the flank as if in retreat. Marcus watched as one of the Etruscan leaders fell, a javelin straight through his left arm as he had lifted his shield. He smiled. Juno was guiding the Romans today.
The thinner Roman line was now vulnerable to Etruscan attack and Marcus breathed quickly, his heart thumping as he watched the men pick up their spears before the second series of javelins landed and stepped neatly back into their formation.
The Roman phalanxes stepped forwards more rapidly, closing the gap with a huge roar as they crashed into the Etruscans, metal scraping against metal and wooden shields thudding together as the melee began. The effect was instant, the Etruscans losing ground and the first lines of their defence obliterated by the hail of javelins and instant response from the Romans leading forces.
Marcus turned his horse to the left, towards the river, and galloped away to the edge of the Roman line where he hoped he would get a better view of the battlefield as the men on the plain began to thrust their spears into the deep lines of enemy soldiers. The Triarii remained behind, closing formation and starting to yell at the soldiers ahead of them who were now slicing into the Etruscans who were falling in their hundreds to the sudden onslaught of the men from Rome.
Marcus watched as Scipio began to retreat from the Etruscan horse on the far left. He had circled wide, almost reaching the river as they had planned as if trying to get behind the Etruscan line, but now the Etruscans had seen him and sent their own flanking manoeuvre to counter the attack. As he watched Marcus saw Scipio call his men back in a frantic escape as the Etruscan horses followed in a mad chase to cut off their retreat, their leaders throwing spears at the back of the withdrawing Romans. He narrowed his eyes as the final three rows of Romans in the phalanx on the left suddenly split and ran across towards the cavalry, no shields, just men with two or three javelins in each hand and raced through the dust towards the cavalrymen, who seeing what seemed like velites in front of them whooped and wheeled on them, easy prey to a good horseman in open ground.
The Fall of Veii- Part 2 Page 23
