by Peter Rhodan
“Feel like a ride Harlax?” He said to the grizzled soldier next to him with a grin.
The fellow looked around at the other troopers. “Damn sir. It’s my turn again, ain’t it?” He grumbled, a sour look on his face. Harlax grumbled about everything he was required to do but Glendywer had discovered early on that the large Frisian’s grumbles never got in the man’s way of doing his duty. In truth, the fellow was easily the most capable and reliable of the small force Glendywer led, camped here on this freezing mountain watching the Selgovae. If only he could be persuaded to learn to read and write Glendywer felt Harlax would be promoted to Ensign almost immediately.
Glendywer smiled. “Fraid so Harlax. Here. Take this to Centurion Julianus and return to the primary rally point. If we’ve moved by the time you reach the rally point the men there will let you know where we are. Good luck and take care.” The fellows at the rally point had the most boring part of the operation as they had nothing to do but camp and make sure they weren’t seen by the locals. For that reason, the people on duty there were slowly rotated each time a message was sent.
He handed over the note, now encased in a small leather pouch to protect it from the weather and smiled at the blond-haired soldier. Harlax took the pouch and saluted, which Glendywer returned and the garrulous soldier headed for where the horses were picketed down the slope. The required saluting was yet another of the enigmatic Arturo’s changes to procedure and he had to admit that the saluting every time you did anything got a bit tedious after a while he had found, but it did ingrain a habit of obedience in the men and separate the officers from the rank and file. And it also made clear what was an order and not just a casual request.
The odds were good that Harlax would get through without trouble. The men were getting quite expert at keeping themselves out of sight as they moved through the terrain, at least when there was no particular hurry. The messages were sent off every couple of days unless something exciting happened like all those warriors arriving from the north the previous week. Once delivered the rider would return to the designated rally point about a half days ride to the south. Four of Glendywer’s men were camped there with several of the spare horses carrying supplies.
One of those men would come forward to replace Harlax when the Frisian passed through on his way south. Julianus had a second force under Optio Myrddin watching the Novantae way to the west. So far as Glendywer knew they did not appear to be doing anything that would indicate they were intending to join the Selgovae in whatever it was their king Cluen had planned. It may well be the Selgovae were going to attack the Novotae, for all Glendywer could fathom, although that would seem less likely than their marching south based on past experiences. Or so the old-time veterans said. Roman territory was always a magnet for raids and such.
He put the telescope to his eye for one last look at the oppidum, but it was already getting a bit dark to see much so he packed the clever device away in the special leather case it was supposed to be kept in and started preparing for dinner with his two remaining scouts. The telescopes were a marvel, letting him see so far, so clearly and made this type of scouting so much easier. He thought of some of the other things the army now had, the metal crossbows, the standardised uniforms, the new medical officer he had been introduced to just before setting out to replace Ensign Coren on this isolated duty. Centurion Julianus only kept them in this isolated position for a month at a time, for which Glendywer was very grateful. Sitting out here in potentially enemy territory was not exactly a restful activity! On the other hand, all in all, he was quite satisfied with the way the army had been improved by this Arturo taking charge.
Two days later Tribune Coel, prince of the Carveti, looked at the report and debated his own course of action. Cluen’s intention to march south was in part a result of Coel’s urgings the previous year. When Maximus had killed the previous Dux and taken over the forces around Lugowalion Coel had thought it presented him with a great opportunity to restore his family’s position. He had planned for Cluen to march south and sack the north of the Roman province after which his tribesmen would then retire north with their booty. Somewhere in the process Maximus would have died gallantly defending the Empire, or so the story would go, leaving Coel in command of what was left of the Roman army and acclaimed as the new Dux.
As a prince of the Carveti he would call his people to arms and march south to defeat the Comes at Eboracum and gain control of the whole northern part of Roman Britannia. King Coel still sounded good in his head. Unfortunately, this foreigner, Arturo Sandus, had appeared and disrupted his plans. First he had suckered Maximus into a stupid blind charge over a ridge into an arrow storm that left Maximus and half his cavalry dead. Following that disaster, Coel and his fellow Tribune Brennus had been left with little choice but to join Arturo’s army when they appeared to be surrounded, it had been a clever subterfuge, one that still rankled.
And then there were all the changes this Arturo had introduced. The metal crossbows certainly gave his men more firepower. The stirrups the cavalry now had made them much more effective, both charging with lance as well as in hand to hand fighting with their swords. Plus the metal foot rests also made using their own crossbows while mounted much easier. The secret long distance scouting that kept a close watch on all about was another innovation he had never anticipated. The new medical troops had only just begun training but would obviously improve the men’s health and ability to recover from wounds based on the limited examples Coel had seen already.
Easily the most impressive thing was the industrial might that he was building up at Dervent. Coel had been to Gallia and even Italia once but he could not recall seeing anything quite like what was happening around Dervent. The railroad already linked Wern and Dervent, with trains hauled by the smoking metal monsters this Arturo had caused to be made. Only a few brave people made use of the two scheduled passenger trains that ran between the two towns each day so far, but as the line grew that would certainly increase. The goods traffic was still low as well from what he could judge, but already there was iron ore flowing north by train after being carted up the coastal plain to Wern by more traditional means and the planned extension of the line to the south would see that traffic grow as well.
Construction of the north bound line was half the way to Alladraef and without any interruption would be at Maglona by midyear and or a bit after and there was some hope that it would reach Lugowalion before year’s end. The strength of the army still lagged though, with neither force having reached the point of creating two cohorts yet. With a few recent recruits the First Legion was getting very close. There was a constant trickle of hopefuls turning up, mostly tribesmen from north of the wall but others as well, as word of the fact this army was paid in good coin got about.
Coel knew Cluen was determined to raid south and the real question for Coel was did he stick by his original plan and engineer this Arturo’s death during the confusion and take over the Roman forces himself, or did he accept this Republic the man was building and stick to being a soldier? The foreigner had certainly accomplished a lot in the short time he had been here. Surprisingly, Coel had found him an interesting and quite entertaining fellow whose company he found to be even enjoyable on occasion, not that he would let such matters influence his plans.
He sat back in his chair and contemplated the future. He could not stop the copy of the report already headed south. Not that it really mattered whether he did or did not of course as the previous reports had made it plain Cluen was gathering his tribesmen and only a fool would not believe that he intended to come south with them. The two legions combined had a touch over a thousand infantry between them and the cavalry was probably near three hundred now. Cluen on the other hand would be bringing over five thousand armed warriors and perhaps five hundred mounted men south.
The only realistic option would be for the Romans to hole up inside their forts and wait till the Selgovae finished their raid and returned to the north. C
ertainly, they could mount raids and look for opportunities to cut off and defeat small parties of tribesman, particularly as many of the Selgovae warriors would probably break off from the main army with their loot and captured slaves to return north independently. That was certainly the way most big raids had been eventually defeated in the past. The tribesmen’s indiscipline and the declining battlefield numbers caused by men heading home early were one of the main causes of the regular long term failure of most attacks. On top of that, Cluen’s army did not have the numbers to make a big raid by any means or at least not yet. So far there was no indication that either the Novotae or the Votandi were going to join forces with the Selgovae which Coel decided was probably a good thing all told.
Perhaps during those military actions would be the ideal time for Arturo to die heroically defending his new Republic. Yes. As one of the man’s trusted commanders it should not be difficult to arrange some sort of fatal accident. And once he was dead Coel’s royal standing would almost guarantee that he would inherit the title of Dux. Yes. He smiled to himself anticipating a spring that promised to be most interesting.
Chapter 9
A plan of action
Arturo, Oween, Valerius and Radovas sat at the table in Arturo’s office and took turns reading the report. Valerius looked up after handing it to Radovas. “Nothing new there. Except that he is obviously nearly ready to march.” Brennus was missing, being away leading a century of infantry, a half century of cavalry and two squads of scout cavalry through the mountains that Arturo had managed to crash his shuttle into on a show the flag mission. He wasn’t expected back for another week or so.
Oween frowned. “I would have thought that waiting till the crops were in the ground made more sense than marching south now.”
Radovas nodded still struggling through the report as his reading skills remained rather poor despite his best efforts to improve them. “It seems very odd to me. Perhaps he is trying to surprise us by coming early. Nobody campaigns till after the crops are sown. Everybody knows that.”
Valerius nodded. “That’s true. It would certainly have taken Maximus by surprise that’s for certain, and probably most other Roman commanders including myself, I think, if I am being honest.”
Oween nodded agreement and Arturo looked over at the wall where a very rough map was drawn in charcoal on the white washed plaster. It was not a very good map and he knew the distances and relative positions of towns and such were probably very inaccurate, but it did give him a feel for this northern edge of the Roman Empire.
It included the rough outline of the coast down to Deva on this side and Lindum on the other side of the Island. North it showed what was known of the lands north of the wall up to the narrowing where another wall had once run. Tribal areas were roughly drawn in and the east coast of Hibernia indicated as well although even less was known of that island than the areas north of tribes directly above the wall.
Arturo pointed at the areas on either side of the Selgovae. “At least it looks like we are not dealing with a large raid of fifteen or even twenty thousand tribesmen.” The other men all nodded, relieved the Novotae and Votandi did not appear to be joining in whatever action the Selgovae were preparing to engage in. Arturo took a few moments studying the map while the others all waited patiently for whatever he intended to say. He stood for a considerable time before he finally turned to face his officers. “Right. We will get the First underway north tomorrow. The aim will be to get it to Maglona as a first step and we will hold the troops there till we know more. I will send word to Brennus to march north with his force and meet us there. I am going to scout out the land north of the wall and try to find a good place to fight the Selgovae.”
The others all looked a bit surprised and not a little shocked at this idea. After furtive glances between them Valerius cleared his throat. “You’re planning to meet them in the open field north of the wall?” The surprise in his voice was palpable.
“If I can find a suitable battlefield, yes, that will be the best option.” He studied their surprised or appalled expressions. “You all appear to have doubts about doing that?”
Valerius tried to sound serious rather than scared. “They outnumber us nearly five to one, Primarius. In the open field they will simply run right over us, new bows or not.” Arturo noted the use of his title from his now friend as much loyal subordinate. Valerius only ever used the Arturo's self-proclaimed title when he was not happy with something Arturo had just said or was proposing to do.
The other two seemed to agree with this assessment. Arturo waved his arm in the little half wave the others were beginning recognise as what he used to indicate an acceptance of what was being said, but an unwillingness to go along with it. “I am not saying we will definitely fight in the open field, just that I will look for a position we could fight in. The key will be a suitable piece of terrain where we can negate their large numbers while chopping them to bits with our firepower. Basically, I intend to do to them pretty much what we did to Maximus, and because we can’t rely on Cluen being as headstrong as Maximus we are going to have to pull our little surprise right in front of his eyes.” He paused and looked around the table. “We will shoot them to bits if we can blunt their charge, we proved that with the Scotti, so all we need to do is keep them from closing with us.”
“Oh, that’s all is it?” Valerius said sarcastically. He had witnessed several charges by the various types of barbarian infantry and was still a little intimidated by the sight of thousands of charging tribesmen.
Arturo frowned. “I do not see any problem. I can think of several ways of stopping them from closing with us straight off the top of my head, but what I need is one they can’t see till it actually affects them. Otherwise they might simply sheer off and either retire back to their own lands or try and work their way around our position. That is why I need the right battlefield. It has to be one where we can surprise them with a way of stopping their charge while at the same time looking so inviting to them that they are actually willing to fight and mount a charge.”
The others all stared at him after this little speech. “You’re serious aren’t you sir?” Radovas said at last, looking, well, not aghast perhaps, but certainly not that enthusiastic about Arturo’s battle plan. “You want them to charge you?”
Arturo smiled at them. “If I can find the right battlefield, yes. I am not stupid gentlemen and while I might lack experience at this sort of warfare some things remain the same in all forms of combat. Concentration of force and surprise or get there first with the most as a cavalry commander once put it. The trick, gentlemen, is to know where to get and how much is actually the most. If we had two thousand infantry we would simply shoot them apart, as you would all probably agree. But we don’t. Therefore we have to even the odds another way. If I cannot find a suitable battlefield and entice them into fighting us there then we will fall back on the use our walls as a force multiplier.”
“Once Brennus re-joins I intend to double the size of the scout force by combining the scouts from the two cavalry cohorts plus maybe adding a few regular cavalry men who volunteer and then use that temporary force to harass their column as it marches south. I have been told such tribal gatherings have very poor march discipline which we will use to our advantage by annoying and harassing them, particularly when they have camped at night. Our scout cavalry will use the long range firepower of their manuballistas to whittle down the enemy cavalry who will no doubt be sent out from their army to drive our men off. We will disrupt their foraging and we will disturb their camps every night so that by the time they face our main force on the battlefield they are going to be tired and mentally befuddled so their decision making will be off. On top of that, they will be as angry as hell and that will help them to fall into our trap.”
The men looked at each other again, only this time they were smiling. “This sounds like the sort of thing the desert nomads engage in against our columns. Only they do it because they cannot fa
ce us in open battle. You are going to do it to goad them into attacking us when and where you want them to. Interesting.” Valerius said at last, a small smile hovering on his lips. “You are a very dangerous man, Arturo Sandus.” He said at last.
Arturo could not help himself and laughed. So did Oween. “That’s the second or third time someone has said that to me. The job now is to go north and make it true for the Selgovae.” He smiled wolfishly and the others mirrored him, suddenly a whole lot more confident than they had been before. Arturo may have been a ship captain not an army commander but there was a certainty, a sense of compete mastery, in the way he laid out his plans that filled his officers with a sense of faith in his leadership that none had felt with any commander they had served under before. Where what he initially proposed had seemed rash and foolhardy, it now seemed reasonable and daring.
Valerius found himself studying the man in front of him. He talked of tactics and enemy intentions in such a simple, this is what we do way, yet managed to convey an understanding of all the possible wrinkles that could happen with such calm confidence none of the men present could feel other than enthusiastic for the proposed battle. Yet all the possible problems still existed, the main one being how to stop their charge. Yet for all the uneasiness he felt, it was just as if Arturo had reduced all their problems to simple matters that would be dealt with easily. How did he do that? And could he learn to do the same?
Chapter 10
Dirty tricks and mayhem
Corotoc, son of Owain sat on the rather bony old horse he had managed to purloin and looked at the Roman army formed up on the slope in front of them. His own horse, the well trained, large, part Roman one, his father had given him five years ago, had been killed in one of the many raids the accursed Roman cavalry had mounted on the army’s nightly camps. If it wasn’t fire arrows plunging into the sleeping camp without warning it was the horses being stampeded or isolated groups of men simply being massacred.
