Hosker, G [Sword of Cartimandua 12] Roman Wall

by Griff Hosker

  “Sir.”

  “And Marcus, be careful. That sword does not grant you immortality.”

  Marcus waved Gnaeus over. “We are scouts tonight. I saw a hollow over there.” Marcus pointed to the west. “We can move closer to the Selgovae along the dead ground and remain hidden. If we approach from the east we will be in the dark.”

  Gnaeus looked to the north, “Remember what happened to the Decurion Marius sir. One of these barbarians might well fancy another horsehair plume.”

  “Then you will have to be my mother for the night and make sure he does not get it.”

  The banter was just to ease their nerves. What they were about to do was risky but they were the best that Rufius had and Marcus took it as a compliment that they had been selected.

  It helped that they were approaching from the dark that was the east. Even so they dismounted as they turned to head west and the hollow which would take them close to their enemy. They both had well trained horses that picked their way silently across the turf. They were like shadows as the edged closer to the barbarians.

  Once they reached the hollow they tied the horses to a gorse bush and left the animals to graze. Taking off their helmets they put them next to their spears and shields. They would only get in the way. Drawing their swords they slithered up the side of the grassy hollow. Their ears were attuned to the sounds of the evening. They could hear voices to their front but they saw nothing. The mound running along the partly built vallum gave them an indication of their location. They moved slowly and silently across the undulating ground. The soft turf deadened any sound they might have made. After a small dip it began to rise and the two Romans could now make out the voices. They moved so slowly as to be almost stationery. When they crested the rise they saw that they were just thirty paces from the barbarian camp.

  There was a sentry at the edge of the camp and Marcus could make out the glow of a fire hidden behind the bodies of the warriors. The mood appeared to be quite bullish. At first he could only pick out one or two words; it was some time since he had heard their language but he heard, ‘Victory’ and ‘Roman Slaughter’. The two of them settled down to watch and to listen.

  Numbers were hard to estimate but as the barbarians moved around Marcus saw that the camps were spread all along the edge of the Vallum. He knew that Rufius had been right to attack them. Had they not done so then this camp would now be many more miles inside Roman territory. Marcus suspected that they could return to their own camp without hearing more. The warriors looked to have settled down and they would gain little more information but Marcus would stay. He could suffer a night without sleep if it brought victory one day closer.

  The talk went on for some time and Marcus wondered if they would ever sleep. A sudden shout in the camp yielded silence. A single voice spoke. This time Marcus found that he could understand more words for the warrior was speaking slowly so that all of the tribes could understand him.

  “Warriors, we have victory within our grasp. All that stands between us and the rich land to the south is the handful of horse warriors. They are not to be feared. When we attack, on the morrow, follow your leaders. I have told them how we can defeat these Romans and then we drive on to meet our Brigante and Carvetii brothers. They, too, have defeated the Romans in the south! The priestess was right! The Mother is with us!”

  The camp erupted in a huge cheer. Marcus knew that the sentries at his own camp would be worried when they heard the shout in case it preceded an attack. He wondered what plans the leader had put in place. He also wondered if the words about the Brigante were true. He worried about his family but he could do nothing about it.

  They waited in the dark listening to the sounds of the camp diminish. Within a short space of time all that they could hear was the snores of sleeping men and the stamp of the sentries’ feet as they struggled to keep warm. Marcus was about to lead Gnaeus away when they heard steps approaching. Marcus pulled Gnaeus down the slope. A pair of shadows appeared above them. A quick glance showed Marcus that the two sentries were going to relieve themselves. Although they were not looking down yet, when they did so they could not help but see the two Romans.

  Marcus tapped Gnaeus on the arm. He rose and plunged the sword of Cartimandua into the chest of one warrior. Gnaeus slashed his sword across the other sentry’s throat. Even while the two warriors were dying, the Romans turned and ran towards their horses, hidden in the dark. They were unfortunate in that the spears the men were holding clattered against a rock as they fell and shouts of alarm erupted from the camp. It would not take them long to find the bodies.

  They donned their helmets, grabbed their spears and shields and mounted their horses. They could hear the barbarians behind them as they sought their sentries. The hollow hid them but as soon as they crested the rise a precocious moon peered out and illuminated their silhouettes. The roar told them that they had been seen.

  “Well that has torn it. We had better go steady Gnaeus. There are traps ahead.” Marcus dismounted. He glanced over his shoulder and the warriors were hurtling after them.

  Marcus was peering into the undergrowth to look for the telltale signs of a trap when he heard a low whistle. He whistled back. “Over here, sir, to your left.” Titus’ voice was like music to the decurion’s ears.

  The barbarians had disappeared into the hollow but they could only be a few paces away. He saw Titus’ relieved face. The signifer had his javelin ready. He said, “Down sir!” Marcus and Gnaeus both ducked as the javelin flew from Titus’ hand and thudded into the chest of the Selgovae warrior.

  The three troopers quickly disappeared behind the bushes and waited. They did not have to wait long. The four young barbarians threw themselves into the undergrowth to get to grips with the Roman spies. The first one set off the spring trap and the wooden stake tore into his middle. A second one tripped over the piece of rope and he was propelled into the wooden spike sticking out from the tree. The other two stopped. Behind them were another handful of warriors. One of them shouted, “Tiernan says you are to return to camp and stop chasing shadows.”

  Seagh and Darius are both dead!”

  “If you do not return now then you will join them.”

  The last of the pursuers turned and reluctantly followed the other warriors back to their camp. As Marcus followed Titus through the maze of traps he thought about this Tiernan. He was not the reckless barbarian they were used to. He had some sort of control over his men. They would have to take them seriously when they attacked for there was a plan behind this attack.

  Rufius had asked to be woken when Marcus returned. He was waiting for them at the fire. They told him what they had heard. “It sounds to me like they are going to try some sort of trick tomorrow. You have done well. Get some rest. Tomorrow may be even more testing.”

  Chapter 19

  Felix had also had problems reaching the fort at Cilurnum. There were small bands of Votadini who had managed to scale the wall and they were looting the Roman settlements south of the wall. It was late in the afternoon when he reached the bridge. He had waited in the woods south of the river when he had heard the hooves leaving the fort and he had only emerged when he saw it was a trooper from the ala riding south. He was cautious. The guards were, naturally, equally wary and the optio on duty sent for Livius.

  “He is our scout, let him in.”

  Livius feared the worst. “Report, Felix.”

  “Sir, the decurion sent me because the Novontae have crossed the wall. He has taken command of eight turmae from the Cohors Equitata.”

  “Good work Felix. Does the Prefect at Vercovicium know of the danger?”

  “Yes sir, I told him.”

  “Then get some rest for tomorrow we will go to the aid of Rufius and Marcus.”

  It was a damp and dismal dawn. The clouds had been scudding across the skies since the moon had set and the spring rain drove from the north. It was as sharp as needles. The horse warriors had been standing to since before dawn. They
were already all soaked to the skin. Rufius was taking no chances however, better to be damp than to be dead. He and Marcus sat with Decurion Albius. “We need to be flexible today. We have no idea what is happening on the rest of the wall and we just need to slow down the warband. I am sure that the Legate will have plans in place. We must buy him time.” Rufius was not as confident as he sounded. He knew how few men they had. At best the Legate would be able to send a couple of turmae. The rest would be needed, now, to protect the fort at Cilurnum.

  Tiernan had more men under his command than he had ever had. His brother besieged the fort at Luguvalium. They did not want the auxiliaries there to come to the aid of the horse warriors. The two brothers had decided that the horse warriors were the biggest threat. If that could be eliminated then they could run amok in the land to the south of the wall. Tiernan was using his large numbers to gain the advantage. He had watched in horror, the previous day, as his men had attacked piecemeal and been picked off easily. The advantage he had was that he could attack from three sides. He divided his army into four warbands of five hundred men. The front two ranks were armed with a spear and a shield. The warriors in the third rank had a shield too.

  Three of his warbands began to move south. Each one had a leader who stood in the third rank. The Roman Severus had told them of this tactic. It went against the grain for the barbarians to march in straight lines but Tiernan had a powerful personality and a fiery temper. It would take a brave man to question him.

  Rufius frowned when he saw their advance. This was not the barbarian horde he was used to. Decurion Albius asked, “Do we attack as we did yesterday?”

  “No, for that would do no good; they have shields.”

  “Suppose we threw them beyond the front three ranks. It would disrupt those at the back.”

  “It is not worth the risk Marcus. The troopers throwing the javelins would have to be close to the barbarians, we would risk losing them.”

  “Then what do we do?”

  “We fall back slowly.”

  They still had time to perform the manoeuvre for the warbands were still three hundred paces from them. Rufius frowned. The two warbands at the edge of the formation were moving ahead of the centre band and looked to be angling their line of attack.

  “I think they are trying to flank us. It is time to move back.” He turned to Titus. “Order about face.”

  As the buccina sounded, each turma began to turn to the right. Bizarrely the carnyx also sounded at the same time and the warbands began to move at double speed. They were not running but they were moving swiftly. The two wings began to envelop the ends of the Roman cavalry. The about face meant that the barbarians were moving quicker than the Romans. The carnyx sounded two calls and fifty warriors erupted from each of the warbands. They wore neither helmet nor armour. Half of them carried javelins, taken from the dead horsemen and the other half had slings. The rear rank of the Batavian Cohors Equitata was struck by slingshots and javelins. Horses and men went down. Every trooper was struck. Some of them only suffered a stone to the arm but others were thrown from their saddles by either the lead ball or a javelin. The warbands, miraculously, kept their pace. They did not make the classic barbarian error of charging.

  Rufius had seen the attack. “Signal trot!”

  The remaining turmae began to move away quicker now but, even so, the rear turmae had to endure the rain of death. By the time Rufius had managed to extricate them from the missiles twenty five troopers had been lost. They could hear the screams as the wounded troopers were emasculated by the warriors at the rear of the warband.

  Decurion Albinus was shaken. He said, quietly, to Rufius. “My men will not take much more of this. Yesterday was a good one for them but they have lost too many friends today.”

  Rufius was uncertain what to do. How did you counter such an attack? They were outnumbered and had few options.

  “Sir, do you mind a suggestion?”

  “Anything would be welcome, Marcus.”

  “We still have one advantage sir, we just used it. We have more speed than they do. If we split into two groups we can ride east and west along the Stanegate.”

  Rufius was confused. “That will get us nowhere.”

  Decurion Albius said, urgently, “This debate brings the barbarians ever closer!”

  “They will think we are running away and that they have won. Half a mile down the road, we turn and charge their flanks. Their shields are with their front ranks. We use the Batavians’ javelins and whittle them down again. I bet their best men are at the front!”

  The warbands were less than a hundred paces away and Rufius made his decision. “Marcus, take your turma and half of the Batavians. Go east. We will take the rest and go west.”

  The decision made, they acted swiftly. Marcus yelled, “First three turmae follow me. Gallop!”

  As they headed east they heard the jeers mixed with cheers from the barbarians and when Rufius did the same it became a chorus of victory. They rode hard to give the illusion that they were defeated. Marcus halted them at the mile marker. “Rest!” He turned to view the barbarians. His opinion of the leader was confirmed for the warbands did not disintegrate into a mob but continued their steady progress.

  “About face.” He rode to the front of the turmae. “We are going to charge the barbarians.” He pointed to the decurion of the first Batavian turma. “I want you to charge and release your javelins at thirty paces. Wheel and go to the rear.” He pointed to the next two. Then you will do the same. Finally I will charge with my turma and we will use our spears. If I think we are winning. We will repeat the manoeuvre but if I sound recall then turn around and head back to this place.” He saw the nods from the troopers. They were keen to avenge their dead friends.

  Marcus was not happy about being in the rear. He preferred to be the first to charge but he knew that he and his turma would have a harder task and risked the highest casualties. The warband was still heading south and were crossing the Stanegate when Marcus heard the buccina. Rufius was attacking. He was earlier than Marcus. It meant that the war band’s attention was to the west and not the east. He decided not to sound his buccina. He would rely on the Batavians doing their job.

  One of the Selgovae had their wits about them and he shouted to his chief. The carnyx sounded and the warband turned to face the new threat. As Marcus had predicted there were only a handful of shields amongst the Selgovae who faced them. The first Batavian turma made a bloody mess of the front rank. Even as they tried to bring shields to face the new threat the second turma added their weight of javelins. By the time the last turma had thrown their missiles there was confusion and disorder in the once rigid ranks.

  “Sound the charge!”

  Marcus’ turma charged the Selgovae. Without a spear Marcus and Gnaeus were forced to lean forward and use their swords. They were both masters of the weapons and the Selgovae were terrified of the snarling, rearing horses. Marcus’ Horse punched a hole into the war band’s line. They had done enough. “Fall back!”

  The troop each performed the same action; they punched forward with their spear as they jerked the rein to the right. Marcus and his Chosen Man had no spear and were forced to watch. A warrior with an axe suddenly launched himself at Gnaeus. He came from the shield side and Gnaeus desperately tried to turn his horse. Suddenly the young trooper, Gaius, wheeled his horse around and speared the barbarian in the shoulder. The huge warrior roared a scream and grabbed the spear in his hands. He pulled. Gaius failed to release the spear and he was pulled from his horse. The warriors around him began to hack and chop at the helpless young warrior. As Gnaeus and Marcus extricated themselves young Gaius joined his friend Lentius in the Otherworld. He had made up for his mistake.

  As they reformed at the rear of the Batavians Marcus saw that Gaius was not the only casualty. There were empty saddles. The first turma rode in again and caused devastation in the Selgovae still reeling from the previous attacks. The second turma had just charged in
when Marcus heard the strident notes of the carnyx. He wondered what it meant for it came from the rear of the warband.

  “One last charge and we withdraw.” He saw that Titus had been wounded. As the signifer he only had a shield and a standard. “Are you able to signal?”

  He grinned and Marcus saw that he had lost a couple of teeth too. He spat blood from his mouth. “Don’t worry about me sir.”

  As the third turma withdrew Marcus shouted, “The Sword of Cartimandua!”

  The battle cry was taken up by the rest of the turma and they urged their horses on. The disorganisation of the band and the deaths of so many had taken their toll. When the battle cry was sounded some of those at the rear began to edge back. Those at the front felt the movement and they too moved back. The result was that they were further away from the turma and that increased the speed at which they charged. When they struck there was an audible crack as spear met bone. The screams of the dying filled the air. Raven’s hooves were deadly weapons and warriors were trampled beneath them. The sword carved a path of death and a wedge drove deep into the Selgovae lines. The Selgovae were breaking and Marcus began to wonder if they could defeat them with this charge.

  “Shit! Sir, better fall back.”

  Marcus looked to where Titus was pointing. The carnyx had been a signal for the uncommitted war band which was now racing to envelop them.

  “Fall back!”

  The fact that the Selgovae before them were falling back allowed them to withdraw and turn their horses. The Batavians had seen the danger and taken it upon themselves to charge the advancing Selgovae and release their last javelins. It cost them a couple of troopers and barely slowed the Selgovae down. The Batavians were now reliant upon their swords.

  The end of the warband now spilled over the Stanegate. Marcus wheeled Raven and shouted, “Head south.”

  As he looked to the west he saw that the warbands which had been there were now racing to surround him and his men. He had no idea what had happened to Rufius but Marcus appeared to have the whole of the Selgovae army trying to surround them.