Fronto smiled.
“It’s a plan. More people than I’d usually like to take on a quiet bit of subterfuge, but if it’s the only way, then it’s the only way. Talk to your decurions and arrange it. Have them muster here in an hour dressed the same way as we will be.”
Ingenuus frowned.
“You mean all three of us are going on this loopy adventure, sir? Begging your pardon, but shouldn’t you stay and command the cohort. What happens if you get hurt?”
Fronto grinned wolfishly.
“If you think I’m missing out on a bit of fun like this, you’ve got another thing coming. Anyway, I’m not essential to the daily running of the cohort. That’s what centurions are for.”
As Ingenuus jogged off in the direction of the milling cavalry, Fronto smiled at Velius.
“I know your opinion of the cavalry in general Lucius, but what do you think of the man?”
Velius shrugged.
“He seems to be good at the job. Pleasant in a kind of wet way. He charged in to save his colleagues despite stupid odds, which means he’s brave. Oh, he’s alright. Bit of a prat, but better than most of the mind-blowingly stupid cavalry officers who couldn’t find their own arse with both hands and a map.”
The legate smiled.
“Don’t pull blows Lucius, speak your mind man.”
“I tell it like I see it.”
Fronto tapped his chin.
“I’m thinking of requesting that he be transferred to the Tenth. We don’t have any good cavalry officers. Think I’ll have a word with Longinus when we get back and ask him if he’s happy with that.”
Another shrug.
“One day you’ll find him trying to wear his own arse like a hat, mark my words.”
* * * * *
“Ow!”
Velius turned and whispered “Shut the hell up!”
Fronto, hobbling on the foot he had just stubbed against the heavy bole of a tree, swore very quietly and whispered back to the centurion.
“What kind of way is that to speak to your commanding officer? Anyway, we can’t be near them yet. I can’t hear the horses.”
“Begging the legate’s bloody pardon, but I could hear them until you started all that muttering!”
Fronto winced at the temporary pain and clamped his mouth shut. He glanced around and felt, once again, how truly clumsy he was in comparison with some people. He never really considered legionaries agile; they were the heavy infantry that hit the enemy line like a rolling boulder. It was a surprise, then, to see the dozen men that Velius had picked out. They had stained their white tunics with soot that had turned them charcoal grey, and had wiped the blades of their daggers with wet carbon to dull the gleaming. With the same applied to their faces and arms, they were barely visible in the darkness of the woods. They moved with a catlike grace and made virtually no sound. To his own ears Fronto, on the other hand, sounded like Hannibal’s Elephant parade crossing the Alps. He had cut himself no less than six times since entering the woodland and had stubbed his toe twice. He was beginning to wonder why he had come after all. He should have stayed at the column with the slingers. Velius had looked them over briefly and then decided that they would be too noisy and visible.
Velius stopped dead. Fronto was equally surprised at the dexterity and quiet with which the veteran centurion moved. As he watched, the man made a number of mysterious motions at the legionaries, who dropped low and spread out, moving forward very slowly. Fronto shrugged at him and could see the irritated look on the man’s face even under these conditions. He would have to buy the centurion some good wine after all this was over. Velius repeated his arcane gesture and Fronto shrugged again.
Moments later, a crackly voice next to his ear whispered “The centurion’s asking you to drop low and move forward to his position slowly sir.”
He turned, startled, to see a short, wiry, blackened man crouched next to him.
“Oh. Alright.”
With a minimum of grunting, Fronto picked his way forward to Velius. When he arrived next to the man, he dropped down and whispered to him.
“Who the hell is the really short one? He moves like lightening and I didn’t even see him coming.”
Velius’ face still wore its annoyed look.
“He worked in a Gladiatorial Ludus before he joined the army; now will you kindly be quiet and let me think.”
Fronto followed his gaze and saw the horse enclosure not far away. Now that he actually listened, he could hear the horses. He could see four warriors from here, but assumed there would be others. The four were near the wicker gate by a flickering fire. The corral itself was a temporary structure formed from woven branches and vines. It wasn’t anywhere near as big as he’d expected. Certainly couldn’t hold more than a hundred horses.
“Velius, there’s nowhere near enough horses there. This must just be the scouts’ enclosure.”
Velius turned, the annoyed look back on his face.
“That’s exactly what it is and yes, there’s probably only a hundred horses there, but if you open your eyes you’ll probably see the three other fires that I’ve already spotted. If you focus around them for a while, you’ll start to spot the other horse corrals. Stay here with the men. I need to creep back and have a word with Ingenuus.”
Fronto considered arguing, but only for a moment and the look on the centurion’s face suggested how bad an idea that might be. He sighed quietly and settled into another position on the knobbly tree root. No way he sat was remotely comfortable. His heart skipped a beat when something tapped him on the shoulder. The short legionary was next to him again.
“Wotcher sir.”
Fronto smiled uneasily.
“Evening. What’s our next move?”
The legionary grinned.
“We’re going to have to take the guards out; probably one group at a time. We can’t move any of these horses while there’s a single guard left in visible range.”
Fronto nodded. It made sense to him, though he’d have split them up and done it all in one go.
“What happens if one group sees us silencing another?”
The legionary smiled again and flicked the point of his dagger with his thumbnail.
“We’d best make sure they don’t, eh sir?”
Velius’ voice piped up very quietly from behind the legate. It must be difficult, Fronto decided, to maintain a whisper when your natural vocal state is bellowing at people.
“Right. We’re all in position. There are seven guards as far as I can make out. Four standing by the fire and one sat close by, one off to the right next to the corral’s fence and one to the far left sat down, possibly asleep. Ingenuus is waiting for an owl hoot I’m going to give when we’ve dealt with them, then he’s going to bring all the cavalry to this position as quietly as possible. By then we’ll have split into two groups of seven and gone for the next two fires. Sir, can you lead one group over to the fire on the left and sort them out? I’ll lead the other group and we’ll deal with the two fires on the right. I’m then going to give another hooting and Ingenuus will send a third of the cavalry to your position, a third to mine and the rest will mount up at this corral. Then we just have to move as quickly and quietly as possible.”
Fronto nodded a lot through the briefing, aware of how much the central command relied on the tactical ability of the centurionate. As Velius finished, his legate frowned.
“Velius, how are we going to get the horses back out? We can’t go the way the Germans have cleared or we’ll run into the rest of their army, and I could barely get through the way we came myself. I can’t see a squadron of horsemen getting through there.”
Velius sighed.
“Have all those command briefings late into the night destroyed your senses? Did you not hear Ingenuus’ men behind us?”
Fronto’s frown deepened.
“No. I didn’t hear a thing, and I thought that was the point.”
Velius had to stop himself shouting,
and the irritated look was back.
“The cavalry have been widening a path behind us as quietly as they could, but I’ve been quite worried about the volume. If you couldn’t hear it I think you need to see the legion’s doc about your hearing when we get back.”
Fronto harrumphed and then looked guilty for the sudden noise.
“Alright. How do you propose we go about this?”
Velius gestured at the corral.
“I’ve selected six men to deal with the ones by the fire. They should be over the other side by now and ready for the signal. In a minute we’re going to split into two groups of four. I’m taking three off to the right to deal with the one there. You’re going to go left with the other three. Once they’re down I’ll hoot and the other group will move in on the fire and Ingenuus will start to bring the cavalry up.”
Fronto raised his eyebrows.
“Did you plan all this earlier, or is it all spur-of-the-moment thinking?”
Velius grinned.
“You should know me well enough by now to know that I try and keep planning as basic as possible until I see how the land lies. Everyone ready?”
There were a number of low affirmatives.
The centurion made another gesture that Fronto could easily interpret and the men moved out. The legate suddenly found he had three grey legionaries next to him urging him on.
With a conscious effort to keep his movement quiet and agile, he crept through the forest with the other three close by. Pausing for a moment he made a crude signal, gesturing at himself with his thumb and then drawing it across his throat. The others nodded and Fronto swallowed nervously. He was a senior officer of the Patrician class in Rome, a war-hero and a personal ‘friend’ of the most powerful man in the Northern Provinces. And yet next to these common legionaries he felt like a blundering imbecile. He would have to take down the first man to prove his worth to even himself. Swallowing again, he reached out and touched the woven fence with his fingertips. One of the horses neighed quietly and its warm breath clouded around his fingers. He stood very still, watching ahead for any sign of alert movement. Nothing. He couldn’t even see the seated man and had no idea how Velius had spotted him in the first place.
As quickly as he dared, he made his way along the fence, squinting off into the dark woods ahead as he did so. Every five or six yards he stopped, panicking that he’d made too much noise but still there was no reaction from ahead.
He was almost on top of the guard when he finally noticed him. The man, about five feet away, reclined against the bole of a tree. Fronto watched him for a moment, trying to determine whether or not the man was asleep. As he stood, hunched in the shadow of a tree, the man snorted and spat into the woods. So much for that. There was no way he could cross that five foot gap fast enough without the man making noise. Briefly he considered trying to climb a tree and get the drop on the man, but not only would that make so much noise he would be bound to be discovered, just about any move from here would attract attention. He thought for a short while. Well, it was an old trick, but he was fresh out of ideas.
Picking up a small twig, he threw it across behind the guard at one of the horses. The twig bounced off its neck and the horse reacted predictably, neighing and shaking its head. The guard looked up over his shoulder at the horse and, groaning at stiff muscles, pulled himself to his feet. Fronto waited for a moment until the man was standing, slightly hunched. Stepping forward, his movement covered by the sounds of the guard, he reached out as the man stretched and, putting one arm round the man’s neck, covered his mouth. As the man struggled to breathe, trying to fight back, Fronto’s other arm came round holding his dagger. The knife plunged into the man’s neck and, wincing at the sounds, Fronto dragged the knife across the man’s windpipe. There was a gurgle and the German thrashed for only a moment before falling limp. Fronto gently lowered the blood-soaked body to the ground and into a seated position resembling the one that he had previously occupied.
He stood straight again, looking around him for the other three. It took him a few moments to spot them, but spot them he did, and then scanned the forest on the other side of the corral over the heads and backs of the various horses. He couldn’t see a sign of Velius and his group, but moments later a very convincing owl hoot echoed out across the woods. Turning back toward the fire he was astounded to see the legionaries materialising out of the dark of the forest like the shadows cast by the flickering flames. They fell straight on the guards like a silent wave and within moments the Germans had been disposed of silently and efficiently.
Fronto smiled grimly to himself. The legions were renowned as a frightening force on an open battlefield, but they’d never been known for stealth. It said a lot for the army in general and the Tenth in particular that they were capable of such varied military activity, and specifically, he suspected, it said a lot for the Tenth’s chief training officer and his methods.
The sounds of activity not far behind him heralded the arrival of Ingenuus and the cavalry. Now that he’d stopped muttering and complaining so much, Fronto realised he could hear the cavalry moving quite clearly. He hoped the Germans couldn’t. A cavalry decurion, leading his own turma, approached the legate.
“Sir, prefect Ingenuus is in position now and the ala is ready to move. We’ll await the second signal and then move in.”
Fronto scratched his head.
“How is Velius going to know that we’re done when he gives you the signal? He’s going to be a long way away.”
The cavalryman grinned.
“Maybe he won’t sir. Maybe he thinks you’re already on your way.”
Fronto nodded and looked around for his group of three men. He was surprised once again to see that three of the men from the fire had joined them and his entire unit of six were standing, impatiently waiting for his order to move out.
“Let’s go.”
The seven men crept through the woods until they were close enough to the second fire to see how the land lay. The setup was much the same as the central corral, though the guards were a lot more spread out. He gestured for the men to gather round.
“I know I’m the commanding officer, but I realise that you’re good at what you do and that centurion Velius has trained and briefed you very well. I assume you’re quite capable of dealing with this?”
There were a number of nods.
“In that case, I’ll take the guard next to the fence nearby and you can deal with the rest according to your own plans, yes?”
More nods, followed by arcane gestures reminiscent of those Velius had used, as the troops worked out who would do what with not a single word spoken. Fronto moved out towards the guard nearby as the rest of them melted away to deal with their own targets.
The man was considerably more alert than his previous victim. Fronto ducked behind a nearby tree when he thought he’d been observed. Peeking out, he realised that the guard was just clearing his throat. He brought his dagger up ready to make a dive on the man when suddenly, not far from where he stood, an owl hooted.
Not wasting any time, Fronto merely broke cover and ran at the man. The German had been scanning the upper branches of the nearby trees looking for the noisy owl and was surprised enough when a senior Roman officer in a grey-stained tunic leapt out of the undergrowth and hit him in the midriff. The wind was knocked out of the man and as he struggled to draw breath and shout a warning the knife blade entered his torso once; twice; thrice. He stared in horror at the Roman nightmare from the trees as the blade arced in towards his neck.
Fronto stood, sickened by the fact that unfortunate necessity drive him to kill like this in cold blood. He would much prefer an open and fair fight. He sighed and wiped his dagger on the man’s tunic. He obviously hadn’t been fast enough for Velius. He would have to have words with the centurion when they got back. Moments later there was the sound of broken undergrowth as the cavalry moved in to deal with the horses. Velius had been much too soon. A shout of warning in
the guttural German language was silenced by a legionary’s blade, but too late. The cry had gone up.
Moments later, as Fronto rushed round the edge of the horses’ corral to the gate to free the beasts for the cavalry that were now arriving, he heard a distant owl hoot and realised. The Gods had played a horrible trick on the Tenth tonight. Velius was now giving his signal, but the cavalry were already on the move and there was little chance the cry of alarm hadn’t been picked up by another German somewhere.
A cavalry officer appeared out of the woods not far from Fronto. He turned to face the man.
“Quick. The alarm’s out. Get the horses and let’s go.”
The cavalry started to pour into the area around the corral and men moved to individual horses. Fronto reached out for a nearby one. Fortunately, not only did the Germans appear to use the same Gaulish-style saddle that was the standard for the Roman cavalry, but they also appeared to have left many of the saddles on the beasts, whether for speed or through laziness he wasn’t sure. He pulled himself up on one of them. These animals were very different from the horses generally used by Rome. By comparison they seemed immense. He hauled himself into the saddle and looked around. Everywhere around him cavalry troopers were climbing onto horses, with or without the saddle. He could see the legionaries struggling onto horses too. There seemed little point now in subterfuge. He called out, still relatively quietly, but loud enough to hear over the rest of the noise.
“Move out. Fast.”
* * * * *
Fronto was having difficulty. He was unused to being in the saddle anyway, but this brute of a huge German horse had been increasingly hard to handle since they had left the confines of the wood. With the unfamiliarity of the terrain and the darkness weighing against him, he considered it a lucky thing that he’d made it this far without pitching off the animal or falling into something and ending with the beast lame. Although there was nothing behind them as far as he could see, he felt uneasy. They had made too much noise and commotion in the woods once the signal had gone up. He felt absolutely sure the Germans were following them, even if he couldn’t see them. Once more he pulled the madly charging animal over towards Ingenuus, who had refused to set any speed for the unit other than charge.
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