I knew then that I couldn’t ask that of them. We should all have a right to decide how we want to die. I could overrule him, of course, but fleeing to the hills didn’t offer much more chance of survival than making an impossible stand here. Many of Aleixo’s men were hunters, after all. Given the choice, I knew which way the men would decide. ‘Start rousing the men, Iovis. Whatever I decide to do, I promise it won’t entail the men giving up their weapons and armour.’
Iovis breathed a sigh of gratitude. ‘Thank you, sir. We won’t let you down. We’ll protect you till the end.’
Did he really think my life was worth dying for? ‘I know you will, Centurion.’
The centurion and the legionary left us, leaving just Marcus with me. He gave me a sad smile. ‘I take it you’ve ruled out surrender then?’
I sighed and said dryly, ‘Yes, the decapitation of their last hostage put me off.’ I shook my head, trying to rid myself of the image. ‘Besides, it’s out of the question. We need to keep that gold out of his clutches. He’ll recruit an army and increase this terror throughout the region with the help of that gold. You’ve seen what sort of man we’re dealing with.’
Marcus looked down at Iovis’ impromptu sketch in the dirt. ‘If we form a defensive square, he’ll get it in the end.’
I turned to my friend. ‘You’re right. We’ll need to send out three volunteers. See if they can make a break for it taking the gold with them.’
Marcus gave a wince. ‘There’s little chance of success. They’ll be heavily encumbered. That’s even if they break through the lines.’
I looked around at the dawn that was slowly arriving from behind the eastern hills. ‘A better chance than we have here.’
Marcus gave a brief laugh. ‘If any of those volunteers make it, they’ll be as rich as kings!’
I smiled. ‘Better them than Aleixo.’
Marcus shook his head. ‘He won’t let it go, Cassius. He’s too committed now. He’ll tear the countryside apart finding them.’
I grimaced. ‘Yes, but what other choices do we have? Our options are limited.’
‘We could try and force our way through the road to the north,’ Marcus suggested, but without any real conviction in his voice.
I shook my head. ‘That’s what they want us to do. That’s why their camp is near the southern edge of the east ridge. Then they can trap us between their main force and their heavy infantry. We’ll be crushed between a hammer and an anvil. It’s tactical suicide.’
Marcus gave a long sigh. ‘It looks like we’re staying here then. We better tell Iovis to start digging his perimeter and trench.’
I stood up from the map on the ground. ‘I suppose so.’ I was unhappy with the choice, but I grudgingly conceded it was the best option available.
A commotion broke out from the west side of the camp. Marcus and I ran over to see what was going on. We came to two sentries that were guarding the approach from the mountains that lay in that direction.
‘Runner coming from the west, sir,’ a legionary shouted to Marcus. ‘But the outlaws have spotted him.’
I looked down the hillside and saw one of our runners being closely pursued by five of the Celtic-Iberian warriors. Marcus didn’t waste any time. He shouted to the two sentries, ‘Follow me. We’re going to get him.’
I started to follow him myself, but felt a vice-like grip on my shoulder. It was Iovis, He’d run over when he’d heard the commotion himself. ‘Not you, sir. You’re our responsibility. Let us deal with this.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous, Marcus needs my help.’ I tried to pull away but Iovis was as strong as a bull, and he wasn’t going to give up his hold.
‘I’m sorry, sir, but the tribune gave me this order himself. You are to be kept out of harm’s way, even if you protest.’
With elevation in rank came responsibility. I nodded. I looked down the hill to see Marcus leading the two sentries on an intercept course with the runner. The five outlaws in pursuit saw them too. One of them stopped and unfurled his sling. It might have only been a small hunting sling, but as the runner was unarmoured it still could prove deadly. His first throw must have missed, as the runner kept gamely on, although the four pursuing warriors were gaining on him.
The second throw must have hit his mark, as our runner fell flat on his face. I cursed. If he’d been hit on his head there was a good chance he was dead. The information he carried would have died with him.
Marcus reached the runner first, but he didn’t have time to check on his health, as the pursuing bandits arrived moments later. Marcus spun into attack, catching the four Spanish warriors by surprise with his offensive move. Marcus’ gladius took the throat of one bandit before he had time to raise his guard. The other three all raised their caetra shield and falcata and approached more cautiously. The two Roman legionaries caught up with their tribune and came to his aid.
There was a brief stand-off as the two groups of three eyed each other. But then Marcus spun into attack again, his gladius a dazzling blur. Marcus’ speed and aggression shocked the warriors, who backed off, but not before another went down with an expert thrust to his lower ribs. The two Praetorians followed up Marcus’ attack and tried to engage the remaining warriors, but they’d had enough and backed off further down the hill.
The slinger let off another blow, but the two Praetorians raised their large shields and protected their tribune, who now knelt by the side of the downed runner.
‘By the gods, he’s a swordsman, isn’t he?’ exclaimed Iovis, his voice full of pride.
I smiled. ‘He certainly is that and more.’ Iovis had started this trip deeply sceptical of his new commander. That doubt had clearly been dispersed once and for all.
Marcus came up the hill, followed by the two Praetorians, who carried the limp form of the runner between them. I was dismayed to see the runner was Quintus, the young man who’d nearly killed me by accident when I first arrived at the camp. ‘Is he still alive?’
Marcus nodded. ‘Yes, just a little groggy. He’ll have a fair-size lump on the back of his head though.’
The two Praetorians laid him down at my feet. I knelt down by the legionary’s side. The light was still gloomy, as the dawn sun still hadn’t fully risen. ‘Someone go fetch me a torch. I need to see how bad his injury is.’
One of the Praetorians rushed off to comply, as Marcus and Iovis joined me down by the legionary’s inert form. He groaned but mercifully opened his eyes. ‘I made it,’ he whispered.
I smiled. ‘You certainly did, well done.’ I felt around the back of his skull and felt a lump the size of a pigeon’s egg. ‘That’s quite a bump you have on your head, Quintus.’
He gave a shallow grin. ‘I’ll be alright, sir. Don’t worry about me.’
That was a relief; we had no surgeon in the camp. ‘What did you see to the west, legionary?’
‘There’s another force coming this way,’ Quintus rasped, through deep exhaustion.
Iovis gave an expletive, whilst Marcus cursed, ‘By the gods, not another one.’
My heart sunk too. ‘How many in this column?’
‘About a hundred, sir,’ said Quintus.
Not so bad; we were already so badly outnumbered, would another hundred make much difference? The Praetorian who’d run off to find a torch returned. ‘I have brought you some fire, my lord.’
I told him, ‘Stick it in the ground here then leave us.’ There was no point in more people knowing what was coming than necessary.
He stuck the burning brand in the ground then backed away. I turned my attention back to the injured runner. ‘More light caetrati, or heavy scutati?’ I asked him. More heavily armoured troops could make a difference.
He gave a tired cough. ‘Neither, sir. They wore no armour at all.’
Marcus said brightly, ‘Well then, nothing to worry about!’
I wasn’t so sure. ‘What did they wear over their tunics?’
Quintus sat up slightly. ‘That was the strange th
ing, sir. They all seemed to have a long leather or sinew band along their chests. I thought it some sort of uniform.’
My heart sunk. ‘No, it isn’t a uniform, or at least not an intentional one. Those were Balearic slingers. That long animal sinew band over their chest is their weapon of choice.’
Iovis swore again.
Marcus didn’t see the significance of the discovery. ‘What does that matter? We’ve already faced slingers here. They’ve proved little threat.’
I shook my head in dismay. ‘We haven’t faced slingers like these. Those oversized slings of theirs can throw iron shot the size of a small fist. It can puncture armour, break bones, destroy any defensive formation. We can’t possibly form a defensive square now.’
‘Then what can we do?’ Marcus said, exasperated.
I looked up into the burning torch left by the legionary, suddenly having an idea. ‘We give them what they want.’
Chapter Thirty-two
The oxen lowed as they pulled the giant cart down the slope towards the road. The descent was relatively shallow on this side of the hill. Yesterday’s strong sun had baked the ground hard and the excess of water from the last storm was long gone. Nevertheless, the oxen were unhappy at being moved so quickly down the slope, and they protested noisily as we descended.
We couldn’t possibly hope to escape in secret, taking the eight oxen and the large monoceros with us, so I wasn’t going to try. I was going to roll the cart down in full view, trusting that Aleixo’s host wouldn’t try to impede us. They knew the road north was blocked so should feel no need to prevent us falling into their carefully laid trap. I had Iovis and twenty of the most experienced veterans acting as a screen to our right. Their orders were to delay the enemy host as long as possible if I was wrong and Aleixo mobilised as soon as he saw us moving. The rest of the men ran alongside the cart, making sure it didn’t gain too much speed and career into the oxen leading it. The monoceros didn’t look happy at the new turn of speed and direction either, flicking his tail in irritation. But it didn’t have any trouble keeping its feet, and it remained rooted to the base of its giant cage. I rode one of our three horses, Marcus was riding another, whilst Blantek rode the third. I pulled my horse up on a small promontory of the eastern slope and tried to observe the enemy camp. The light was still bad. Dawn was still yet to rise above the eastern hills, so it was only just manageable. The Spanish bandits were stirring, coming out of their blankets to watch our change in tactics. A few of them started shouting, whilst others made catcalls in our direction, but I couldn’t see any concerted effort to stop our progress. This area of the slope had been left clear for a reason, so they weren’t striving to hinder us – just make us aware that they knew what we were up to. I felt a moment’s apprehension, suddenly doubting myself. I forced away the negative thought. This wasn’t the time for reflection or self-criticism. We were committed now, and there was no turning back.
As the slope tailed off, we steered the oxen onto the road that led north, and I swung around waving my hand above my head as a signal for Iovis. He and his veterans could now follow us, their positioning on our right no longer necessary. I couldn’t see in the gloom whether he’d seen me or not, but I didn’t let it delay me. Iovis knew the plan. I would just have to trust in his judgement to follow it.
I cantered my heavy horse to the front of our line as Marcus positioned the men as we’d planned. I heard and felt the sound of my horse’s hooves clipping the stone flagstones of the road and stopped just fifty paces before the narrow point between two hills. Just as I knew they would be, Aleixo’s heavy scutati were ready and waiting for us. At least five ranks, twenty men abreast. Heavy scutum shields, spears levelled, barring our path north. Blantek rode up with the two flaming torches, handing one to me. ‘Let’s get this done.’
I rode down one side of our row of soldiers whilst he took the other, lighting the brands in each of their hands as we went. They were made from the dry scrub of the local bushes, which was the perfect material, taking to flame quickly as we rode down our lines. As I reached the cage at the end of the flaming V-shape we’d created, I spun round the back of it. I saw Iovis and the veterans were not far behind now, but they were being followed by Aleixo’s main host; his caetrati had finally mobilised. I didn’t pay them any mind. Instead, I turned my horse and lit the hay we’d stuffed at the back of the cage. Instantly, the monoceros started banging on the iron bars at the front, terrified by the smell of flame and smoke coming from the back of the confined space.
‘Now, Blantek!’ I shouted.
The small wiry man didn’t hesitate. He’d been unhappy about this plan, until I’d told him the alternative and what lay in store for the poor beast if it was successfully transported back to Rome. So he released the locking bar on the front of the cage and let the terrified beast come charging out. Marcus had moved the oxen out of its path, so there was nothing hindering its progress as it charged northwards.
My Praetorians waved their flaming brands and shouted and screamed at the animal, encouraging it on its way. I steered my horse behind it, flame in hand, hoping the animal didn’t change its path or veer off the road. The monoceros saw the thick hedge of spears from the Spanish infantry in its path and hesitated and spun around in its uncertainty.
The Roman legionaries to either side waved their flaming brands, something that was clearly terrifying the animal, but still the bewildered animal hesitated, seeing its path blocked. I cursed and galloped up behind it, flame in hand, screaming for all I was worth. The sight of the flames coming so close to it was the final spur the monoceros needed. It turned back north and headed directly at Aleixo’s heavy infantry, the only direction that took it away from the flames. I looked on with satisfaction as the heavily armed men cowered in panic as the great beast lumbered towards them. But just as I thought my plan was going to work, the monoceros stopped in front of the Spanish phalanx. Damn it, so close.
The enemy spearmen didn’t waste any time. They started shouting and banging their heavy spears against their large scutum shields, trying to ward the large beast off. It shook its large head in confusion at the noise and spun around, aiming its great horn directly my way. Seeing their plan working, the Spanish scutati increased the volume of their shouts, and one of them even stepped out of line and gave the great beast a hefty slap on its large behind in order to spur it towards my men. In horror, I saw that this appeared to have the desired effect. Shocked by the blow, it bolted forward – away from the enemy phalanx and towards my Praetorians. My men’s improvised brands were now little more than smouldering embers, rather than the flaming torches that had so terrified the monoceros earlier.
Marcus shouted at his men to hold their position as the giant beast tore round in a fast arc, gaining speed as it bellowed in bewilderment and confusion. Despite Marcus’ vocal encouragement, gaps appeared in the Praetorian lines as they shied away from the terrifying beast. I cursed, and kicked my horse forward to intercept the monoceros. But my horse baulked at getting in the beast’s path, and instead it reared. I needed to grip with my knees in order to keep my seat in the saddle, and I dropped my torch as I desperately hung to my horse’s neck. I thought the game was up, my plan in tatters, as I saw the large gaps in my men’s line offering a path to freedom for the angered beast. But the monoceros had other ideas, and it turned again, facing back towards the Spanish infantry. My guess was it hadn’t forgotten or forgiven that heavy slap it had received on its rump. It gave a bellow of defiance and charged back towards their line, this time going far faster than before, kicking up dust from the ground as it gained speed.
In fairness to Aleixo’s men, they were clearly brave. The sight of such a terrifying beast running at such speed would have made most units buckle and run. But a man in their ranks shouted a command, and they kept their spears level and refused to be moved. Perhaps they thought the monoceros would behave like a horse; it was well known that it was impossible to make any troop of horses gallop directly i
nto a shield wall of spears. But this wasn’t any horse bearing down on them. It was a monoceros that had been terrified by the sight of the flames, angered by the noise and its harsh treatment, and it bowed its head and charged directly into the teeth of the Spanish warriors.
Only just before the creature slammed home into their ranks did the spearmen realise that this beast wasn’t about to stop, and they dropped their spears and tried to move out of its path. But it was too late, much too late. The giant monoceros ploughed through their ranks, trampling men underfoot or sending men spiralling into the air. I gasped in awe of its power as it knocked through the five ranks of men as easily as a child tearing through a wheat field. It bolted its way north, leaving a clear path through the broken ranks of scutati.
I drew my gladius and kicked my horse into a gallop, guiding it through the gap carved out by the monoceros. My Praetorians were right behind me, storming into the wide hole in the enemy ranks and setting upon the broken lines of warriors. The recognised way to break a shield wall was to exploit any weakness, to try and prise a small opening in the defence and then widen it. In this case, however, it was hardly necessary. The gap was so wide that the remaining heavily armoured spearmen fell back in stunned confusion. The Praetorian legionaries weren’t holding back in exploiting their advantage, and they struck down the disorganised ranks of floundering outlaws in a ruthless display of professional butchery.
I didn’t hold myself back from the sickening carnage.
A Spanish warrior appeared in front of me and tried to turn tail and run. I rode my horse past his shoulder, as I’d been trained, and hacked downwards, splitting his face open with Varus’ blade. No host was more vulnerable than when they broke and ran, and these scutati were no different. They ran in different directions, no coherent plan behind their actions, just an overwhelming desire to flee the vicinity of the triumphant Praetorians. I spun my steed around, running back into their mass and striking to the left and right, bloodying my gladius on countless foes. I took no real satisfaction from the bloody work, as few offered any form of defence other than to try and shy away from my lethal blade. But the bloodlust that often follows men when they see a path to freedom now overtook me and my guard.
Bedrock of Empire Page 40
