I was expecting another attack, but Aleixo ran his horse up the hill and started calling them back. They broke off the attack and started walking back down the hill, shouting insults at us along the way. Aleixo looked at me from his sorrel stallion, and our eyes locked. I couldn’t tell whether he recognised me, but his eyes burned with hatred.
A legionary next to me whispered, ‘By the gods, that was a close-run thing.’
I couldn’t have agreed more, but I didn’t answer him as my attention was drawn to the enemy host. Aleixo dismounted from his horse and went over to the group of warriors holding the Roman legionary they’d pulled from the line. He forced the young man to his knees and made him face us. He seemed to be looking directly at me as Aleixo ran his falcata across the legionary’s throat and a gout of blood poured forth. Aleixo sawed through the unfortunate man’s neck with his blade, then wrenched his head free. He lifted the grisly trophy aloft, raising it for the Roman line to witness. He let the body topple forward and threw the severed head to the mud at his feet. Then he turned his back to us, remounting his horse.
There was no victory cheer as the host left this time. We’d come too close to disaster for us to relish any sense of achievement for our hard-won respite on the top of the hill. I walked behind our ranks, out of earshot from the men, with both Marcus and the centurion, Iovis. Marcus had kept the legionaries in position for the time being, just in case the enemy came at us again.
‘It was my fault they almost broke through,’ said Marcus, a deep frown on his forehead. ‘I should never have suggested the looser line.’
I shook my head and looked down at the enemy camp below, who weren’t going anywhere. ‘No, it was the only way we could have protected the full line of the ridge. We had no choice.’
Iovis grumbled in his deep gravelly voice. ‘He’s right. We would have been outflanked otherwise. We just don’t have enough men.’
I folded my arms. ‘Don’t get despondent. Your men have held them twice now, and both times the enemy has come off worse.’
Marcus gave a deep sigh. ‘They can afford the losses, we can’t. We’re just lucky they didn’t attack with their heavy infantry too. It makes no sense.’
Iovis shrugged. ‘I don’t see why they broke off their attack when they did. They had us reeling. Why pull back then?’
A cold dread started creeping up from my stomach. ‘I think those two questions are the most worrying aspect of all. You’re right. It makes no sense to not use the scutati, so they must be placed on the road for a reason. The only explanation I can think of for why they broke off the attack is that he’d already lost too many men and didn’t want to waste any more.’
Marcus looked at me in confusion. ‘But surely if he makes a fresh attack he’ll lose more? He’ll lose more on the approach up the hill?’
My heart felt cold as I stepped forward and looked down at the enemy warriors milling around their campfires. ‘Not if he’s expecting to be reinforced?’
Marcus said, ‘Surely not?’
I turned around to both of them. ‘Think about it. Why keep the heavy scutati on the road at that narrow juncture?’
Iovis bowed his large thick browed head. ‘To keep us from escaping.’
‘Exactly. By sealing the road there, he prevents any chance of us escaping to the north.’
Marcus’ brow furrowed further. ‘What about to the south?’
Iovis gave the answer to that. ‘That could be where his reinforcements are coming from.’
Marcus rubbed a small scratch on his bicep. ‘We could break across country, over the hills, not stick to the road.’
I shook my head. ‘We are more heavily armoured than most of them. In the open country they have all the advantages. They can whittle us down piece by piece, without any chance of rescue.’
Marcus looked at me. ‘So we’re trapped here, and there might be a larger force coming. One we have no hope of repulsing?’
I wiped the sweat off my brow. ‘We can’t decide anything without more information. We’ll need to sneak some men through their lines tonight and see if anything is coming from the south.’
Iovis grumbled. ‘In the meantime, what if they come at us again?’
I shook my head. ‘If I’m right, they won’t. They’ll wait until their reinforcements arrive, when the outcome of the battle is a foregone conclusion.’
As the day wore on, my suspicions were further confirmed. They didn’t attack again with high numbers. Instead, they were content to send parties of slingers, or men good with the javelin, to harry our lines. These were dangerous to the unwary but of little threat to our heavily armoured legionaries. If there had been any Balearic slingers, similar to the one I’d had a close encounter with a few days ago, it would have been a different story. But these warriors used small leather slings from their belts, not the banded animal sinew and horsehair weapons their cousins from the distant Balearic Islands were famous for. The smaller slings threw stones no larger than a pebble – deadly if it struck an unarmoured head, but otherwise little more than a nuisance. It felt as if they simply wanted to pin us back, to keep us where we were stationed – and that didn’t bode well.
Marcus let the men stand down. We left Iovis to organise the sentries, making sure that the rest of the men remained alert and close by. We trusted him to ensure that the men would be ready within moments if needed. Centurions were far more adept at this sort of work than Marcus or me, so we let him do his job.
I was worried and agitated, as Marcus and I wandered over to the large ox-cart in the centre of our camp. The cart had multiple axles and eight strong and stout wheels to bear the vast weight it held. The great beast still roamed around the large cage that sat atop it. The oxen had been released from their lines and were picketed next to the three horses we’d taken from the governor’s stables. The saddlebags that contained the fortune in gold were left stacked neatly to one side. Marcus had told me he’d sealed the bags securely, and I trusted him. ‘I wish we could send some men now. I hate not knowing what’s coming.’
Marcus sighed. ‘We have no choice, Cassius. We need to wait until nightfall. They’ll never sneak past the enemy lines without the cover of darkness.’
I discarded the large Praetorian shield I’d used in the last attack and rested it against the other spare equipment we had. The pile had grown due to our casualties in the last attack. We now had a dozen spare shields and helmets, not a number I wanted to see increase. ‘But there could be another force only a few miles away, and we’re playing into their hands stuck here.’
Marcus rested his hand on my shoulder. ‘I doubt that, Cassius. If they were that close, I doubt Aleixo would have attacked at all this morning. He’d have waited. We have to hope that at least gives us another day or so. His reinforcements might well be further away than our own.’
I nodded, but inside I was burning with frustration. ‘I guess you’re right. Do you know who you’ll send?’
He untied the strap to his helmet and removed it. ‘Iovis has recommended three fast runners, all young and fit. We’ll send one to the south, one to the east, and one west.’
I grunted. I knew there was no point in asking about the north; that way was barred. I looked at the vast monoceros in his cage. I noticed that what had looked like thick armour in the dark last night was actually the animal’s skin. Thick and tough, especially around the animal’s broad shoulders, and devoid of hair. It had a strong earthy smell, reminiscent of hay and dried grass, but not completely unpleasant. It turned its giant head towards me and gave a loud snort from under its great horn. ‘By the gods, that’s some beast.’
Marcus looked round. He smiled. ‘Yes, he’s one ugly brute, isn’t he?’
I gave a shrug. ‘I don’t know. He’s actually rather magnificent in a strange sort of way. Such power, such strength.’
Marcus laughed. ‘Don’t let the men hear you say that. I’ve already heard a few of them calling him Iovis, after our thickly browed centurion.�
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I chuckled. ‘That’s actually a really good name for him. What does it eat?’
My question was answered by the small dark-skinned man I’d met last night, Blantek. He walked around the cage carrying a bucket of water he’d just filled from the spring on the hilltop. ‘He eats hay, grass, and any green foliage. Even branches, and twigs if he gets hungry enough.’
I frowned. ‘Is that all?’
Marcus smiled. ‘Yes, I was disappointed myself. I thought he’d eat raw meat, game he’d speared with that great horn on his head.’
The small wiry man laughed at our stupidity. He turned his back on us and pushed the bucket of water through a small hatch in the cage. ‘No, he’s actually quite gentle. I hope your great imperator knows how to look after such a beautiful animal.’
I gave Marcus a quizzical look, and he gave a rapid shake of his head and kept his lips firmly sealed. Clearly Blantek hadn’t been informed about what the imperator’s family intended for the animal. Probably for the best. I thought I better change the subject. ‘Are there many of these animals where this one was found?’
Blantek turned to me and gave a shrug. ‘Oh yes, I’m told they’re not even rare. Just impossible to capture. I have no idea how they caught this one.’ He gave a chuckle and looked at the beast, which he was clearly very fond of. ‘Although, I’m guessing it was his greediness that gave him away. On the boat trip from Sala, I used to feed him apples. He loved them.’
I smiled. ‘I’ll try and find him a sack of them before our trip back to Rome. Where does he come from anyway?’
Blantek swept one hand out before him. ‘From a place far, far away. But not a place I’ve ever been. I was just given the job of looking after him when their boat turned up in Sala. I’m told he comes from a place past the endless sands to the south, where there is a green and fertile land with trees the size of mountains.’
Marcus scoffed, ‘There’s nothing past the sea of sands. My father told me it just gets hotter and hotter, until nothing can survive down there.’
Blantek fixed Marcus with a strong stare. ‘Your ignorance doesn’t stop at animal eating habits then?’
Marcus went bright red, but before he responded, I reminded them both of the futility of arguing about geography. ‘Unless we find a way off this hill, none of us will ever see anywhere again, least of all a mythical land to the south.’
Blantek shrugged but gave a broad smile. ‘If the bandits break through your lines, I’ll set him free.’ He looked at the huge beast. ‘They’ll never catch him at least.’
I gave a wry grin. ‘Well, I’m glad one of us has a plan.’
Marcus gave the animal a shrewd look. ‘It’s a shame we can’t use him against the enemy somehow. If only we could harness that power – send the animal down the hill to disrupt their next attack.’
Blantek looked mortified and waved both his hands vigorously. ‘You can’t. It’s impossible. He is a gentle creature, with a docile temperament, but any aggression towards him, and I mean any, will send him into a rage that is impossible to control.’
I raised my hand to placate Blantek, and told Marcus, ‘He’s right. That’s why the Roman legions eventually stopped trying to use war elephants. Once the elephants were struck by a spear or missile, and blinded with pain, they tended to be more dangerous to our own troops than the enemy.’
Marcus shrugged. ‘Hannibal used them.’
I shook my head. ‘Not always successfully. At the Battle of Panormus, Hannibal’s brother’s army was broken when his war elephants took fright and charged into their own ranks. Even the best-trained elephants are too unreliable. What chance do we have with an untrained monoceros?’ I pointed down the hill. ‘All we have stopping those men down there from tearing us to pieces is our better organisation and superior discipline. Any wild animal being let loose is going to nullify that.’
Marcus sighed and answered wistfully, ‘I never really thought it was an option. I just wanted a way out of this fix.’
Blantek gave a smile, relieved that his charge wasn’t being incorporated into our plans. ‘Don’t worry. You’re the Roman army. You’ll keep those dogs away from my beauty.’
Centurion Iovis came over and joined us and his namesake. ‘I have the three men ready, Tribune.’
Marcus turned to his charge. ‘I better go see them then. Do you need me any more, Cassius?’
I looked over at the three men the centurion had selected. They were standing near the horse pickets, twenty paces away. I was concerned to see that the young legionary Quintus was one of them. Did we want to entrust our lives to someone so green? ‘You go, Marcus. I’m sure you’ve selected the best men.’
He nodded and left. I might have misgivings, but I knew I had to trust Marcus. The morale of the men depended on their confidence in their commander; I didn’t dare undermine that.
I turned my attention back to the great beast in the cage. It was chewing hay contentedly. Would Germanicus really be pleased to see such a gentle animal slaughtered in the Circus Maximus? It wasn’t for me to question, but it felt a shame to me.
Chapter Thirty-one
The three runners slipped out from our camp that night. They disappeared into the darkness wearing just simple tunics – taken from the Spanish dead. We listened anxiously for the sound of their capture, but heard none. Now there was nothing for us to do except wait for news. It sounds simple, but when your life, and the lives of everyone surrounding you depends on the outcome of that news, it’s anything but.
Both the night and the next day passed off relatively quietly. Aleixo’s forces kept us interested by making the odd incursion with slingers and javelin throwers, but nothing we couldn’t handle. At one point his entire host assembled for an attack, only for them to return to their camp shortly afterwards. I wasn’t quite sure what the significance of that was. Possibly he didn’t want us to feel too comfortable on our high eyrie and to realise he hadn’t gone away. Either that or he wanted to show his numbers were still large enough to crush us if we left our hill. Whatever the reason, it kept our anxiety levels high.
The following night was uncharacteristically cool for high summer, a blustery wind from the north coast that I worried might be a precursor to another storm. However, the weather held off and it was just before dawn when the first of our runners returned. He was brought over to Marcus, Iovis and me, who’d been woken as soon as he appeared. The runner was the legionary who’d been sent down the south road, and he looked exhausted, as if he’d been running for a long time. His news didn’t come as a surprise. ‘There is another force coming this way, at least three hundred, maybe more.’
I spat out my frustration. ‘Damn it, I was right! I knew he was holding back for a reason!’
Marcus said, ‘We can’t possibly hold the east ridge against so many. If they join up with those men below, they could attack from all sides, steep incline or not.’
We’d barely held the ridge the last time; that defensive strategy was now out of the question. ‘How far away are they?’
The legionary looked at me intently. ‘I would guess two days’ march. I ran all the way back, but they didn’t look in any hurry.’
I twisted my mouth in distaste. ‘Why would they? They don’t know we may have help coming.’
Marcus looked at me. ‘How long until our own cavalry arrive?’
I shook my head. ‘Walking around the Gallaecian mountains will take Maris and the others time. They’ll only be reaching there now. Even if the cavalry leaves Asturica immediately, and with all haste, that will take another four to five days. The road from Asturica takes a long path through the mountains.’
Iovis grunted. ‘That’s too long. We don’t have four to five days.’
There was no point in giving either of them false hope; I needed to be honest. ‘And that’s only if they mobilise immediately.’
Iovis pulled out his vine stick and crouched to draw lines in the dirt. ‘We form a defensive square. We have no trees
to build a stockade, but we may be able to construct a defensive perimeter of some sort, maybe with a trench.’
Marcus crouched next to him. ‘Deployed like that, we’ll lose the advantage of the higher ground.’
‘We’ll also be surrounded on all sides.’ I’d built a small turf palisade at Western-Gate Pass. But then I’d commanded a full cohort and only needed to defend one side. A purely defensive square was the final desperate move of someone who’d run out of options. ‘We’ll be outnumbered ten to one.’
Marcus asked the legionary, ‘What troops does this new force hold?’
The legionary shrugged. ‘The same we see here. Spanish caetrati, with a variety of mismatched weapons and armour.’
Marcus looked at me hopefully. ‘That’s something. Not a proper army, just bandits, rogues and cutthroats.’
Iovis was defiant. ‘My Praetorians will show them how real soldiers can fight!’
I wasn’t so sure. I’d seen how disciplined Aleixo’s men were – there was nothing to say these newcomers were any less. ‘We might need to consider fleeing across country.’
Marcus looked up at me shocked. ‘But we can’t. You said yourself, we’re too heavily armoured. There’ll be no chance of rescue from the cavalry if we go further into the hills.’
The gods had a fickle sense of humour. At Western-Gate Pass, I’d been the one who’d insisted we stay and fight, whilst others argued that we flee. I’d come to Spain due to a dream in which I’d been visited by Decius – my former centurion – who had made the case for fleeing most forcefully before I’d sent him to his death. Was this his revenge? Putting me back in the same impossible position?
I crouched down next to them. ‘We could abandon our armour, split up, make a break for the high hills?’
Iovis looked at me and said vehemently, ‘Never! We’re the Praetorian Guard. We’ll go down fighting if we have to, but we’ll go down as men, with shield on arm and gladius in hand. We’ll not die being hunted down like dogs in the wild!’
Bedrock of Empire Page 39
