by Peter Rhodan
Apollodorus broke into the momentary silence. “Refreshments. I am being a terrible host. Serverus!” He called and a head poked into the room through the doorway. “Wine for our guest, and for myself as well.”
“Very good sir.” The man said and disappeared. And Apollodorus signalled for Licinius to continue his account.
“Well, because of the nature of the ground the cavalry were all deployed on the left. The ground where the Republican cavalry had formed up was a little rough and with lots new growth scrub but they seemed content to let Combrosius charge them while they sat and fired at him as he approached. At the same time he launched the Germani up the slope into the Republican infantry line.”
He shook his head. “It all looked so easy.”
Apollodorus cocked his head sideways. “And it wasn’t?”
Licinius shook his sadly. “It was all a trap. Of sorts. The Republicans had emplaced stakes in the brush in front of their cavalry which broke our charge, the horses shying off from impaling themselves and while they tried to sort that mess out these damned manuballista things the Republicans are armed with shot them to bits, even the Catafractii. Combrosius had led the charge and when he went down the fight went out the lot of them. The Republicans then swung around the staked area and charged themselves and our remaining cavalry broke and fled.”
Apollodorus was now looking quite concerned. “And Combrosius was killed?”
“Oh yes, very dead. They brought his head forward on a spear later.” Licinius answered. “The Germani did not fare any better. The Republican line fell back as they advanced, shooting the whole time and then the Germans finally got close enough to charge it was only to discover that there was a hidden ditch stretching across the front of where the Republican line had originally stood which broke their charge. It was deep and wide enough to make crossing it almost impossible under fire. The Republicans simply shot them to bits as they tried to work out a way across the ditch and then started advancing again which was too much and the barbarians broke and ran.”
Apollodorus looked quite shocked now. Licinius shook his head slowly. “I was with the Auxilia but once the Germans fled past us there was no hope, The damn Republicans had prepared some sort of wooden bridge thing which each of their cohorts threw over the accursed ditch and followed up so damn quickly they were within bow range of the Auxilia before anyone quite grasped what was happening. And their cavalry appeared on the flank ready to charge into the side and rear. I could see where it was going so took off before they surrendered.” He finished.
Apollodorus pursed his mouth his colour having gone very pale. “That is not good.” He looked at Licinius with a worried frown. “And do you think this Sandus fellow is going to come south to here?”
Licinius smiled sourly. “Without a doubt. His proclaimed intention is to restore the Republic, whatever that means. And with the Comes Saxoni now based over in Gaul there is really no one to stop him. You have, what, a couple of hundred men here and there are small garrisons still loyal to the Comes Saxoni scattered around the coasts but they are not going to stop these Republicans. You haven’t seen them. Their army is trained like the old Legions must have been. My guess is you have a week, not much more before they get here.”
Apollodorus nodded not looking particularly amused. Licinius thought he looked the type who enjoyed the trappings of his position more than the work the position brought with it. He had been lucky too. He was an appointee of Constantius and had only kept his head after Constantius was killed because Honorius had decided to leave Britannia to its’ own devices. Combrosius and Apollodorus had both benefited from that decision, rather than having to flee for their lives when a new Imperial administration and army was imposed on the island as had been the process in the past.
“And what of you Licinius. Are you going to return to your master in Ravenna?”
Licinius shook his head. “I have not decided yet. I am thinking of staying here but blending into the civilian population so I can watch what they do next. This Arturo Sandus fellow will obviously be the next to make a play for the Empire so I can send warning of his plans.”
Apollodorus nodded. “Yes, I suppose that is a good plan and has the added advantage of keeping you out of the reach of your master should he wish to blame you for the loss of the island.” The cynical tone in his voice was rather obvious. One of the pitfalls of the Imperial system was the rather permanent methods used to assign blame for things. Licinius had no desire to lose his head because of Combrosius’ failings.
“Yes. Well that is a factor I will admit.” He grinned sourly. “Macronius is a fair man and I doubt he would blame me for all this, but Honorius may decide to intervene which would be terminal I imagine. Far better I continue to work for the Empire here. Perhaps you should consider staying as well. Making some sort of accommodation with this Sandus fellow or simply retiring to that villa I know you have down on the south coast.”
Apollodorus started at this mention of his hideaway but then nodded. It was the job of Licinius, after all, to keep an eye on the Imperial officials. “Perhaps. I will think on it. I have a very nice estate in Africa as well which is looking very attractive right now.” He said with a smile.
Licinius doubted Apollodorus would be directly blamed for the events here but there was always that chance if Honorius was in a particularly bad mood. Something that happened far too frequently these days for everyone’s peace of mind. The province of Africa was almost semi-autonomous in practice, like a lot of the Empire, Licinius thought sourly. He nodded to Apollodorus. “That sounds like an even better idea.” He said with a smile.
The two men passed another hour discussing matters then Licinius took his leave and returned to the hostel he was staying at. The next day he arrayed himself in his second best set of clothes and went looking for work amongst the townsmen. He had various skills and by mid-afternoon had found a job helping a wine merchant, one of whose employees had broken a leg very badly and it was doubted he would ever be able to return to carrying the big amphoras of wine.
Licinius knew something of wine which helped him get the position. The merchant had contacts in Gaul, especially in Bononia which would enable Licinius to smuggle messages across the sea to the mainland after the Republicans took over which would be a major advantage of this job over some of the others, even though the work was hard.
Chapter 21
Isca joins the Republic
Maelgwyn Ap Cynan looked out into the morning sea mist as he loaded the last box of fish onto the wagon. It looked like it was going to be a fine day. In his experience, this type of sea mist usually meant the day would be a clear one. Given his fishing background he was the member of the garrison usually tasked with the job of bringing the fish up to the fort early in the morning. It was a tedious job, but doing it meant he was excused from a lot of the other tedious jobs Gwallog kept assigning to keep the men busy. The ever hopeful Gwallog, the unit’s Tribune, tried to instil some traditional pride into the two hundred odd men he had managed to accumulate by calling them the Britannia Secunda, which was the old name for the Legion that had once been based at the fort.
Suddenly his eyes picked out a dark shape gliding slowly through the mist out in the bay. As it neared it took on the form of a two masted ship rather like the new, large trading ship Captain Largwil had acquired up north. Only this clearly wasn’t Captain Largwil’s ship. It was longer for one thing. And it was painted a blue green colour that made it harder to see the hull clearly. Apart from the white stripe that ran the full length of the ship just below the upper edge of the hull.
The two tall masts each had two sets of sails on them, like the Captain Largwil’s new ship, but Maelgwyn rather thought they were taller than the ones on Largwil’s ship was well. There was a large red flag with a blue diagonal cross hanging from a stay running from the stern to the top of the rear mast and as the vessel neared the shore it he could make out shouted commands between the men on the deck which had pre
viously been muffled by the mist. It came right into the little bay where the trading ships usually anchored before suddenly the sails shivered and a large metal anchor attached to the front of the ship splashed down into the water. Within a few minutes the sails had been furled and the ship was riding silently at anchor.
As Maelgwyn stood like a statue and watched, two smaller boats were lowered over the side. One of them had another large anchor lowered into it very carefully and then this boat was rowed astern of the ship for some distance before it dropped this second anchor overboard. Ah, Maelgwyn thought to himself, they can use the anchors to move the ship’s angle at will rather than being at the mercy of the current. At the moment, the vessel was perfectly side on to where Maelgwyn stood, along with the growing band of locals that were gathering to watch the impressive vessel.
The second boat started to head for shore and as it did there was a shouted command and eight panels suddenly opened in the side of the ship and he could see what looked like some sort of ballista pointing towards the shore out of each one. Damn. He thought feeling rather intimidated. He had never heard of ship being packed with so many ballistae! At the same time, he could not help but admire the sleek and deadly looking ship. He had grown up in a small fishing family and had learnt to sail at an early age. He enjoyed the sea and if the opportunity had offered would have been happy to serve on trading vessel or such like but the lack of ships visiting Isca meant he had never found a berth.
Nor could he keep working with the family as he got older. He was the third son and their fishing boat was not really designed for a crew of four, their father and his two older brothers being more than sufficient crew. When Gwallog had started taking on recruits he had decided to join up rather than move away from his family altogether in search of work. It was not really a happy choice on his part but at least he was fed and housed. Looking at the smooth lines of the ship moored off the small port and the rather impressive firepower it mounted, he suddenly knew where he wanted his career to go.
The boat carried five men plus six rowers and a man sitting in the back directing the oarsmen. Four of the passengers hopped out and arrayed themselves on the shore, wading through the mud to reach dry ground. They were dressed in a blue green uniform with cobalt blue trim at the collar and hems. They wore thin trousers, again in blue green with a cobalt blue stripe down the outer seam. The each had swords and small shields strapped to their backs, but their main weapon was a fairly scary looking manuballista of a type Maelgwyn had never seen but which he and everyone else had heard of. The metal manuballista carried by the Republican troops up north.
The fifth person to come ashore wore the same blue green uniform but also wore a brimmed hat and his sleeves had a white band above the hem. This person came up to where Maelgwyn was still standing and bowing slightly, addressed him directly. “I am Optio Manann ap Cerda, sorry Cerdason of the Republican warship Romulus. My captain has charged me to approach the commander of the Roman forces holding this area, one Gwallog I believe. Can you take me to him?”
Maelgwyn realised the fellow must have spotted the fact Maelgwyn wore military type apparel and had thus approached him first. He bowed his head in return. “Certainly. I am taking the morning fish delivery up to fort. You may accompany me.” The Republican officer nodded and smiled a little. Maelgwyn had never heard of a warship having an Optio aboard and asked instead of sensibly hiding his ignorance.
The fellow smiled. “On our ships we have a Centurion and two Optios, I am the first which means the senior one as well as the one with the most responsibilities. We also have two Ensigns aboard the Romulus who are junior trainee officers.”
Maelgwyn looked back at the ship and couldn’t help from asking. “And how does one become an officer on a Republican warship?”
The fellow raised his eyebrows and Maelgwyn gave him an empty handed please look. Manann laughed. “With great ease when the next ship is launched. In fact, we were about to take on two new trainee Ensigns to begin their training when we were sent south to visit here.”
Maelgwyn waved back at the anchored ship. “That is your only warship?”
Manann nodded in agreement. “Yes. The second won’t be ready for some time yet. It is only half built. Why. Looking for a career at sea?”
Maelgwyn smiled. “I grew up in a fishing family, but I am the third son and not needed to man the family boat. But that ship, the Romulus you called her? That is a magnificent vessel. What do you need to become one of these Ensigns?”
The Republican officer eyed him for a moment as they made their way along the river side on the worn track that was fairly overgrown yet had clearly started life as a typical Roman road which lead towards the distant fort. “The main requirement, other than being thought to be suitable material for an officer, is the ability to read and write. All Republican officers, naval or land, must be able to read and write.” Maelgwyn’s heart sank as he could barely write his name. The Republican must have noticed because he said in kindly tone. “The school in Wern runs adult learning classes where they teach basic reading and writing skills to adults outside of the normal school hours. The exam to become an ensign is not that hard and it would probably only take you a few months to reach a level of learning where you could pass it.”
Maelgwyn was still disappointed but could sense the man was trying to be genuinely helpful. “What about signing on a crewman and learning to read and write later?” He asked.
The Lieutenant waved his hand in a negative manner. “It would be much harder to learn when you are busy as a crewman. We officers are happy to help our men improve but we are not teachers. There is one crewman aboard ship now who is trying to learn but he has made little progress this last couple of months as we have been continually at sea.”
Maelgwyn nodded with some understanding. There would be little free time aboard a ship when at sea except for much needed sleep and he imagined it would be even more so on the large warship with it’s incredibly complicated rig. He had spent much of his spare time studying Captain Largwil’s ship whenever he called in. No one had ever seen the sort of rig these ships being built in the Republic carried and many of the nautical types in the area spent a lot of time studying the Dawnstar whenever she was in port. Not that the rig was anything new so much as just more complicated although the ships performed much better, according to Captain Largwil.
The immense and largely unoccupied fortress was reached and after some discussion, his escort was increased by the addition of two men from the ready guard. With this official escort the Republican Optio was marched to Gwalog’s headquarters in the somewhat run down looking main building while Maelgwyn took his load of fish around to food preparation area where the cooks could make use of it. Maelgwyn had no idea of what transpired but a little later he saw Gwallog, and one of his junior officers, head down the road to the port where the Republican warship was still moored. The Republican Optio remained in the fort apparently, which meant Gwallog was keeping him as a hostage, Maelgwyn assumed.
Maelgwyn later heard he had gone aboard the Republican ship and stayed for some considerable time. He returned to the fortress later in the day, but rumour said little about what had transpired other than the Republican Optio was released and returned to his ship. The ship must have sailed on the outgoing tide that evening because it was gone the following morning when Maelgwyn went down the port to collect the day’s supply of fish. The next day, on top the continuing speculation about the Republicans, another rumour was spread around the small force Gwallog had formed to the effect that Combrosius, the Comes at Eboracum, had fallen in battle against the new Dux and that the Republicans were going to take over administration of the whole of Britannia.
Good, Maelgwyn thought to himself, maybe I can get a berth on one of those warships. He sought out a former scribe who had a small farm near Venta and using some of his small collection of old coins as payment had the man start teaching him how to read and write.
Chapter 22
The white cliffs of Dubris
Arturo rode through the northern gate of Londinium at the head of the First Legion. The march south had been slow. Much slower than he had originally anticipated. At least the frequent delays had allowed the task of integrating the captured Germans and surrendered Auxilia into the Legion to be done on the fly while they marched. He found he had to spend more time than anticipated at each town they passed through making sure that the local authorities clearly understood the new state of affairs and had a list of the changes to the laws to study.
The ride south had also exposed just how moribund the local economy had become. Most towns were a shadow of their former selves, a few houses in the centre still inhabited and the rest fallen into disuse and often disrepair. Town walls un-maintained and often falling down. Some towns were completely abandoned. The villas that dotted the landscape were largely still operating, albeit they were often not doing as well as in the past. And there were a number that had been abandoned. A few showed signs of violence, usually being burnt out, but most were simply abandoned. In some cases, the locals had started appropriating the fields and even the materials of the empty villas but in most the empty villas were simple left in situ. At least for the moment.
The immense Roman road network was going out of use and gradually being overgrown in places and getting into serious dis-repair in others. In a couple of locations bridges had been washed out and replace with poorly built fords. Overall the south of the island looked to be richer and potentially much more productive than the northern part of the Roman territory, but it would take time for it all to recover. At least food supplies shouldn’t be a problem, he decided as the farming looked to be potentially much better the further south they travelled.
Londinium was much like all the other towns he had encountered since arriving here, run down and derelict looking. Like every other town on the island it had clearly been a lot busier and better populated at some time in the past. The large and impressive walls were about the only well-maintained thing in the city. Some parts of the town were clearly abandoned while even those parts of the city that were still inhabited looked badly maintained and the whole city looked forlorn really. Like Eboracum, Lindum and other towns and cities dotted around the island, they all reminded him of state Lugowalion had been in before he took it over. He would have to admit that Londinium was the least rundown looking of the towns he head entered so far, though. Which wasn’t saying a lot, really.
