by Griff Hosker
“Reform!” His turma formed a line again and each man took out his next javelin. The brief respite had rested the horses but Rufius knew that this charge would be slower and they would be more likely to take casualties. “Charge!”
Galloping forwards he was pleased to see the field littered with barbarian bodies and noted with grim satisfaction that the walls were no longer being assaulted as the Selgovae turned their whole force against the horse warriors. This time the Selgovae had improvised a shield wall from behind which their archers and slingers could hurl missiles at the charging horsemen. Many of the troopers’ javelins smacked into the Selgovae shields while the troopers themselves, began to take casualties. Rufius could see that he had done all he could. “Sound recall!”
The other turmae were not in range and they pulled back to their start point. The Selgovae began to bang their shields in exultation. They had defeated, or so they thought, the vaunted Marcus’ Horse. “Roll call!”
The horses were ready for the rest and the capsarii began to treat the wounds sustained by the survivors of the charge. All of the troopers kept their attention firmly focussed on the barbarians for they were known to be fleet of foot and could cover the ground to them very quickly. The single minded Selgovae, however, resumed their assault on the camp.
The decurion from the Tenth Turma, Septimus, reported. “Sir the vexillation has lost ten troopers and we have eight wounded. None of them serious.”
“Good. Septimus, take your turma beyond the Stanegate and warn of any barbarians joining the fray from the forest.” Rufius could still see the smoke from the north which meant there were still war bands on the loose. The last thing First Spear would need would be to be attacked from his flank while relieving the siege.
The messenger galloped up. “The First Cohort is half a mile away sir.”
“Good.” He turned to the remaining four turmae. “Form a single line.”
One of the younger recruits said, in a worried voice, “We going to charge again sir?”
Rufius smiled while his chosen man glowered at the unfortunate recruit. “No son, not yet but I want them to think we are and I want to hide the legion from them until the last possible moment.”
The trooper grinned, “That’s all right then!”
Chosen Man roared, “And it will be all right for you son when you are cleaning the shit out of the stables for a nundinal!”
The Selgovae still kept a wary watch on the horsemen but they could see that the Romans were not a threat so long as they kept a wall of shields before them. Their axes began to tear chunks out of the wooden walls which topped the mound of earth that marked the camp boundary. The centurion within, had had his hopes raised when he had heard the buccina and seen the charge and the respite had enabled him to reorganise his defences and have his wounded seen to. Now, as he heard the axes biting into the wood he wondered how long they would last.
First Spear appeared behind Rufius. He nodded at the line. “Good idea.”Stepping next to the decurion he surveyed the scene. “It looks like we got here in time. If you stop them escaping we will take it from here.”
“Will do!”
Behind them the centurions were arranging the centuries in blocks so that there appeared to be six arrow heads peering from the line. Rufius had seen the tactic before and it worked very effectively, giving the attack of a point and the security of a shield wall. “Marcus’ Horse, wheel right. Column of twos.”
As the horsemen moved off the watching Selgovae wondered why they were leaving. When they saw the eight hundred legionaries advancing quickly towards them they knew the reason. In the camp the centurion knew they would survive; it was the First Cohort. They were the finest soldiers in the legion and they were coming directly for the Selgovae with revenge imprinted on their faces. The warband chief could see that the threat from the legion was more dangerous than that of the horse soldiers but they had seen off one attack; this second would not be a problem. Taking his war axe in his hand he roared his forwards, exhorting them to charge the advancing Roman line.
First Spear almost licked his lips in anticipation. If they wanted to die quickly then so be it. “Pila! Loose!” Four hundred spears flew through the air and stopped the Selgovae charge in an instant. The heavy spears either struck the few shields rendering them useless or punched the warrior backwards, immobilising them if it did not kill them. Over three hundred warriors were taken out of action in an instant. The First Cohort gave them no chance to recover and they marched quickly into the attack. The second volley of pila flew beyond the ragged and disorganised front line to decimate the ranks behind while the gladii of the legionaries began to hack and slash at the unprotected bodies of the wild Selgovae. The war chief fell in the first attack and the warriors began to lose heart. They had started their attack so well and the Romans had fled the field but now they had nowhere to run.
Septimus’ messenger found Rufius. “Sir the decurion says there is a warband coming from the forest. There look to be over four hundred of them.”
“Tell him to delay them and we are coming.” He turned to the trooper behind him. “Ride to the First Spear, tell him there is another warband coming from the forest. We will try to slow them down a little.”
“Turmae. Form two lines.” The remaining troopers formed two lines behind Rufius. “Forwards!”
It was but a few paces beyond the Stanegate when they saw Septimus’ turma retreating and then charging to throw their javelins. Rufius knew that it was effective but exhausting. He turned to the signifier. “Sound recall!”
As soon as the turma heard it they galloped quickly back to the rest of the ala. “Charge!” The warband was hot on the trail of the turma and charging blindly. Rufius’ men left gaps for the survivors of Septimus’ turma to pass through and then they struck the warband. There was no volley of javelins; they all threw at the nearest target and then they drew their long cavalry swords. The warband had run from their attack on the wall and were not a cohesive unit but they outnumbered the auxiliaries by five to one and Rufius knew that they could not fight them for long. He slashed and stabbed on either side of the grey’s head. His mount helped by trampling and kicking all who came within range of its deadly hooves. A spear was thrown at him and his instincts took over as he raised his shield and it glanced off. He stabbed down at the two men trying to strike his horse. It was time for a withdrawal. “Sound the retreat!”
The retreat began but ended half way through for the decurion when the signifier was stabbed in the leg. Rufius wheeled around and grabbed the loose reins to lead the signifier’s horse from the battle. The men who still lived galloped back towards the legion. To his relief Rufius saw that the legion had despatched one warband and were marching resolutely towards the forest. Glancing around him he saw many empty saddles. It had been costly but it had saved the First Cohort of the Sixth from an even greater disaster.
The warband which emerged from the forest had its number suddenly swollen by the warriors who had avoided the blades and shields of the Sixth. They poured back from whence they came. Had the cavalry not charged four times they could have pursued and destroyed them but Rufius knew it was too big a risk. “Septimus keep your eye on them but don’t pursue.”
The big decurion grinned, “I am afraid that none of us could sir. The lads are just about out on their feet and,” he ruffled his horse’s head, “as for these poor boys, I reckon they need a feed.”
“Good idea.” To the rest he shouted. “Get the grain bags out; they deserve it. Decurions go around and check the wounded, see to the dead.” The officers dismounted to begin the grim task of finding who had died and who was merely wounded.
Leaving his chosen man in charge Rufius rode over to the legionaries who were busily despatching the wounded Selgovae while the capsarii were busy with the Roman wounded. Quintus Licinius Brocchus strode over and clasped Rufius’ arm. He gestured at the dead troopers. “Thank you decurion. I know that without your sacrifice we might have l
ost more men than we did.” He looked over to the camp, still burning and looking as though it was ready to collapse of its own accord. “Shall we go and see what we fought for?”
“Aye.” Dismounting he followed First Spear across the battlefield.
Centurion Culpinus was lying on the floor with his leg supported by two legionaries while a capsarius tried to sew together the flap of skin which had been torn open. “Sorry I can’t stand sir. This dickhead reckons I need to lie like this to stop losing my blood.”
The two legionaries were grinning while the capsarius carried on sewing. “You’ll be glad when I save your leg. Or should I carry on doing what the barbarian was doing and chop your leg off.”
“You try that sunshine and you’ll get a gladius enema.”
First Spear bent towards the wounded man, “Well I am glad to see that you haven’t changed much Claudius. Still the same sour centurion with the silver tongue.” He leaned over to clasp his comrade’s arm. “Well done. Sorry we couldn’t get here sooner.”
“Not your fault sir. We need signal towers or something like that. They came out of nowhere.”
“You were the lucky ones centurion. They overran the Gauls in the west.”
The capsarius put the leg down. “Now, no walking on it for at least three days. If you pop those stitches I really will cut off your leg.” The fussy orderly marched off to deal with another wounded warrior.
When he had gone, and the three officers were alone, he said, “He’s better than a Greek doctor that one. “ He seemed to notice Rufius for the first time. “Are you the lad who brought the cavalry?”
Quintus laughed. “He is the officer commanding the cavalry yes Claudius.”
He held out his arm. “Then thank you son. You just about saved what is left of my command. You gave us time to reorganise.”
“My pleasure centurion. How many men did you lose?”
He looked grimly around the field. “We have less than one hundred effectives left out of four centuries. I reckon there are thirty who are wounded and will fight again but at least twenty of the lads are crippled.” He looked up at Quintus. “Bit of a cock up sir eh?”
“As you say. Bit of a cock up.”
The three of them looked around the carnage and devastation in silence until Rufius said. “Well the good news is more of the ala is returning north.”
Quintus looked at the piles of bodies being reverently placed by the troopers and said, “Well I think you may need some recruits as well decurion.”
Chapter 12
Their pursuers were relentless. None of them wished to risk the ire of Iucher. They had been left to guard the hostage, the price of his son’s freedom and they had lost her. Honour demanded that they get her back or die trying. At the rear of the turma Sextus could hear them closing on them. The horses could go little faster than a running man in this thick forest and the only advantage the horsemen had was that they would not be as tired as their enemies when it came to a fight and, the Roman warrior knew that it would come to down to a fight. If only they had something they could deploy to slow them down. Sextus almost slapped his own head at his stupidity. He turned to the trooper next to him. “Take out your caltrops.” To the two in front he said, “You two, take out your caltrops and then throw them on either side of you.” He reached down to his saddlebags and took his handful out. To the trooper next to him he said, “Throw them behind you.” The four of them dispersed their small number of caltrops; they were wicked pieces of metal which always had a spike upwards no matter how they landed. Sextus was counting on the fact that their pursuers might either be barefoot or only have fur shoes. Either way it would hurt.
Suddenly, from behind there came a scream, followed by another and then a string of what sounded like Votadini obscenities. “That’ll teach you, fucking barbarians, if you had proper shoes you might have caught us.” He risked a look behind and saw that the barbarians had dropped back as they negotiated what they thought was another trap laden area. It gave them time to increase their lead.
Marcus saw the edge of the forest looming up when the light in the dim murk began to brighten. They had almost made it. He could see, four miles away the magnificent stone monument that was the wall. He could not see a gate but it didn’t matter, the wall meant safety. He halted the turma. The horses needed a breather. Sextus rode next to him. “We slowed them up with caltrops sir.”
“Excellent idea.” He turned to the ret of the troopers, “All of you sow your caltrops in a line behind us.” His men cheerfully emptied their bags of the handfuls of caltrops that they all carried. “How far Sextus?”
“There they are!” The first Votadini could be seen as a white face a hundred paces back.
“Right! Let’s go. We should be able to outdistance them on this open stretch.” He led them at a brisk pace and then, to his horror, saw the band of riders who had left the camp the previous night. It was the chief returning from the fort. The Romans were seen as the same time and, with the girl at the front it was obvious what had occurred. The Selgovae and Brigante riders kicked hard towards the turma. Marcus knew that he could not risk the girl being caught and the rest of the tribe were hot on his heels. “Head west, try to out run them. Sextus lead them off and stay with the girl.”
The men needed no urging but the horse carrying Felix and the girl was struggling with the double weight. Felix was aware of the dilemma and, saying, “Sorry,” slipped from the horse. He ran alongside it with Wolf ahead of them.
“What are you doing Felix?”
“I will keep up.” He grinned. “I have had a rest now.”
The girl’s horse picked up the pace and they began to stretch away from the running barbarians but those on horses closed with them. Marcus knew he would have to delay them. “The last ten troopers on me!”
He slowed his horse down and began to angle away from Sextus and the others. “Javelins!” He turned to see who had followed him and that they had done as he asked. To his surprise three of them were his new recruits. Their faces did not look worried but excited. “Stay close to me you three. These warriors are the best the Selgovae have and these are neither half asleep nor drunk! We throw one javelin and then we run. Clear!”
They all chorused, cheerfully, “Sir, yes sir.”
Iucher had seen the girl and was incandescent with rage, if they returned to the fort with her then his son would die and this would have all been a waste. He urged his horse on. If he could cut them off from their escape then his men could close with them and he could recapture the girl and show the Romans true torture. When the ten men rode towards him he almost laughed. Some of them, he could see, were no more than boys. He was a warrior who had fought many times and never lost. These Romans would die at his hand.
Marcus watched the angle at which the enemy approached. “Go for the horses!” Part of Marcus was thinking of slowing down the enemy but another part remembered that they were largely recruits- a horse was a bigger target. “Loose!” His men threw their javelins and two horses pitched to the ground throwing their riders. One struck a warrior and hurled him to the ground. Two others struck men but they still rode towards them. “Wheel right!”
Anxious to get away the eleven troopers dragged their weary horses around. One of the troopers, Publius, was unfortunate; his horse found a rabbit hole and he was thrown to the ground, landing less than thirty paces from the warriors, eager for blood. Iucher, Briac and the remaining riders homed in on the dazed man as he struggled to his feet, still dazed and winded from the fall. Before they could reach him, and Marcus react, Vibius and Scanlan had turned their mounts around and as Vibius slashed his sword to half sever the Votadini warrior’s face, Scanlan grabbed Publius and hauled him across the neck of his horse. Marcus managed to halt his horse and hurl his javelin to strike Iucher’s horse in the chest. “Ride! Ride like you have never ridden before!”
When Iucher fell to the ground, the heart went out of the rest as they raced to help up their leader. He
cursed and stuck them as they helped him to his feet. “Catch them! You imbeciles! Catch them! They take with them the life of my son!”
By the time Marcus caught up with his men they were within bowshot of the wall and the sentries were looking down on the scene with a mixture curious and concerned expressions. Sextus held the reins of Vibia’s horse and he led her towards the gate which they could see. Felix was already there with Wolf, having taken a short cut across the rocky outcrop which meant a detour for the horses. The optio on the gate recognised the standard and the uniforms and ordered the gate opened. Here was a story to alleviate the boredom of sentry duty on the wall; where had the horse warriors found such a beautiful girl out here in the middle of nowhere? It just didn’t seem fair, they were paid more money, they could ride and not walk and now they were finding women in the middle of the barbarian’s forest.
They had reached a gate some fifteen miles from Cilurnum. Marcus briefly told the Gallic centurion at the gate what had occurred. “There is a huge warband in the forest to the north and their war chief was one of those on horses. They may be just pissed off enough to attack. I should watch out.”
The Gaul nodded. “I wouldn’t worry too much decurion, your lads and the Sixth knocked the Selgovae about a bit. We have a little more support.”
“Good!”
“Too right. It means we can do a bit of proper soldier work and not spend all our time shitting concrete!”
“Turma wheel left!” As they rode along Marcus shouted to Scanlan and Vibius. Scanlan was still riding double with Publius.”That was very brave of you lads.” They both blushed and grinned at what they took to be a compliment. “And also stupid. If you ever do that again I will have you on a charge.” The joy dropped from their faces in an instant. “I am only letting you off because you are recruits.” They looked at each other in confusion. ”What are my standing orders Publius?”
