Hosker, G [Sword of Cartimandua 12] Roman Wall

by Griff Hosker

  “And the orders?”

  “Keep attacking until you are flanked and then pull back. Keep an eye on me. Send Rufius to me so that I can explain it to him.”

  While he waited Livius was grateful for such experienced officers. His orders relied on a quick brain and a confident leader. He knew that his officers had both of those qualities.

  “Sir.”

  “Rufius, you are to command four turmae. Harass the Brigante from the west. Use Marcus’ method of three turmae charging with javelins and then the fourth with spears. Do not get trapped. Watch me for the three of us must move as one and pull back slowly towards the fort. If the bridge is under attack then we will ford the river.”

  “Yes sir!”

  The four turmae trotted down the road and took their place to the west of it. Marcus and his turma were at the rear with their spears at the ready. Having borne the brunt of the losses Rufius’ and Marcus’ turmae had been the ones to benefit from the disbanded reserve turma of the prefect. There were new faces for Marcus to get to know. He was just grateful that Titus and Gnaeus, although both wounded, had survived. When they went into action then he would be able to rely on them. Felix waved as he loped off up the hill to the west and headed south.

  The prefect had sent Felix and Wolf to scout Vinovia. It was important to know what forces the Brigante had left there. Was there a reserve or was this band the only one they had to defeat? The prefect had wondered at the wisdom of abandoning the two fortlets at Vindomora and Longovicium. Had they been occupied then the Brigante would have been slowed down in their advance. It was some miles to the fort but Felix had time and merely had to avoid the Brigante. He had his bow and he had his dog. He needed nothing else. It was thirty miles but he would be able to make quicker time once he had reached the road.

  Caronwyn knew from Briac’s scouts that the Romans were waiting for them at Coriosopitum. She halted her army, for she now felt it was hers, a mile south of the waiting horsemen. Briac’s behaviour at Vinovia had disappointed her. He was not proving to be the leader she wanted. She imperiously waved for the chiefs to join her. She did not dismount. Acutely aware of the effect of making the chiefs look up at her she used every trick to her advantage.

  The ten men who looked up at her were all dressed in mail and each had a fine helmet. The Lady Flavia’s bounty had enabled Caronwyn to realise her dream of a rebel army. Their weapons were now the weapons of warriors. What Caronwyn wanted was the commitment and the discipline which she knew would reap rewards.

  “The scouts have told me that the horse warriors wait for us below the fort. These are the last warriors who can stop us. Beyond the horsemen lie the garrisons of the wall. Already our Votadini and Selgovae brothers will be assaulting the wall and, even now, may be approaching Coriosopitum from the north.”

  At the back of her mind was a doubt for Marcus’ Horse would not be waiting for them unless the wall was safe. Something had not gone to plan. The priestess was still confident for she meant what she said. Her army outnumbered the horsemen by over three to one.

  “We will use our superior numbers to defeat them. Elidr you will take a thousand men and head to the west. You will outflank the horsemen and destroy them. Briac you will do the same to the east. I will lead the rest along the road.”

  The chiefs looked at each other. This was not right. A woman did not lead an army. When the Queen of the Iceni, Boudicca, had done so then eighty thousand had died. The gods did not approve. Elidr looked at Briac and willed him to speak. Briac was the putative king of the Carvetii and the Brigante and it was for him to speak. He cast his eyes down and the moment passed. It was at that point that Elidr decided he had had enough. Briac had cost him his son. He would support him no longer. When this was over he would wrest the crown from him. He was, however, no fool. He knew that they had to defeat the Roman horse warriors first.

  Caronwyn’s eyes narrowed. She had seen Elidr’s reaction. He was dangerous. She would have to watch him. Briac was clay in her hands but Elidr was immune to both her charms and her magic. When this was over then he might have to disappear. He would be a dangerous enemy.

  Elidr led his men over the gently rising ground to the west. There were bushes and trees dotted all over it. Hollows and rises meant that the distant Romans sometimes disappeared from view. One good thing which Caronwyn had brought to the barbarians was Severus. Elidr might not like the arrogant Roman but he wished he was with them now for he had brought ideas and strategies which would defeat the Romans.

  The men that Elidr led were all Brigante and the chiefs who led the men from his land were well known to him. He remembered Severus saying that spears were the best defence against horses. He did not move in a wide line, instead, his men moved forwards a hundred abreast. It was a narrow front. The front four ranks all had spears and a shield. The front rank all had helmets and some had mail. Most of them had been taken from dead Romans. They moved in a loose line with space for two horses between each warrior. That was deliberate. As they moved north each man was waiting for the carnyx to signal close ranks. He wanted to tempt the horsemen to attack.

  His fifth rank had his best warriors. All of them were armed with a sword and a shield. Half of them wore pilfered mail. They were his secret weapon. They were his horse killers. He marched in the midst of them. He was not afraid but when they attacked he would be with them.

  Rufius saw the warband as it crested the rise before, briefly, disappearing in a hollow. They were trying to outflank them. “We had better realign to face these warriors.”

  Marcus left his turma to come to Rufius’ side, “This is not the way the Brigante fight. This is the way that the Selgovae fought the other day.”

  “I know. I see the hand of that Roman we saw in all this. We will be cautious.”

  The cavalry charge which Marcus would use involved a trot for a hundred paces and then a gallop for fifty. It was efficient and did not tire the horses out. His men had put markers at a hundred and fifty, two hundred and two hundred and fifty paces respectively. He would charge at the perfect moment.

  Over to his left he heard the carnyx as the other two warbands attacked. The warrior who led the band closest to them was more cautious. Marcus looked along the front rank which was oddly spaced out. He sought the leader but there appeared to be none who was giving orders. The formation was tempting them to attack whilst negating the effect of their javelins. Rufius had no other tactic to hand. In a perfect world he would have had a turma equipped with bows but this was the real world.

  At two hundred paces he shouted, “First turma prepare!”

  Each trooper adjusted his shield and took out his javelin. The other two would remain in the sheath. With the reins in their left hands they waited for the sound of the buccina.

  “Trot!”

  As soon as they moved forward the carnyx sounded and the open formation closed ranks and a hedgehog of spears prickled from behind Roman auxiliary shields.

  “Charge!”

  The Brigante braced themselves for the impact. The troopers all wheeled to the left when they were twenty paces from the tribesmen and released their javelins. They threw them high to descend on the ones in the middle. Even as they released them they turned and headed east. Cassius led the second turma to perform the same manoeuvre.

  Marcus had watched the attack and he could see the effect of the javelins. It had been negligible. If they had hit anyone then Marcus could not see them. “Gnaeus I am going to aim the line at the warriors on the far right of the barbarian band. Our men have been wheeling left and they will expect that. We will wheel right. Troopers hold your spear like a javelin. Lower it only when we strike.”

  “Sir!”

  By the time Septimus and the third turma had loosed their javelins Marcus and the fourth turma were ready.

  “Trot!”

  As they moved forward each trooper held his spear at shoulder height. Marcus hoped to fool the Brigante into thinking that they would throw the weapon.<
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  “Charge!”

  When they were fifty paces from the line Marcus and his turma lowered their weapons. The slightly western alignment of the troop had deceived the Brigante. He saw the fear and confusion on the faces of the men on the extreme left of the warband. They watched for the wheel and it never came. Each trooper pulled back his arm at ten paces and then punched forward with the long, sharp spears. Every spear struck a face and part of the left flank disintegrated.

  “Again!”

  Pulling back each trooper repeated the strike and men in the second rank fell.

  “Recall!”

  Titus sounded the buccina and they wheeled away from the Brigante. The riderless horse told Marcus that they had paid for their success. Glancing over his shoulder Marcus saw that the Brigante had stopped to make good their losses.

  Rufius was waiting for Marcus. “Well done Marcus. That was bravely done.” He returned to his men. “We will attack the left flank of this warband too. Wheel right after releasing your javelins.”

  Elidr was annoyed. They had been doing so well until the last attack. He recognised the decurion. He had been the one who had visited him in Stanwyck and he was the one with the sword of Cartimandua. His oathsworn were close by him and he said, quietly, “The officer who led the last charge has the Sword of Cartimandua. I will have that blade!”

  He watched as the next turma came at his left flank. Although the dead men had been replaced those in the second rank now had no mail. Some in the fourth rank had no shield. When the javelins fell amongst them, this time, they caused casualties. The next two turma attacked the same place and Elidr became worried. He watched as the fourth turma prepared to charge.

  “Oathsworn with me.” He led his oathsworn swordsmen, all twenty of them and they slowly filleted down the line until they were in the second rank. “You men without mail stand behind us.”

  Marcus frowned when he saw the movement. They were trotting and it was too late to adjust their line of attack. The warband had reinforced the left of their line.

  “Charge!”

  Once again they plunged into the front rank which crumpled. Suddenly the second rank began swinging their long swords as they quickly advanced through their comrades. Three horses died in a heartbeat.

  “Recall!”

  As they wheeled right another two troopers and their horses fell to the deadly blades. This time Rufius was not smiling as his friend returned. The cheers of the Brigante filled the air as they butchered the wounded troopers.

  “We have a clever opponent.” Once again they had a brief respite as the Brigante realigned. “Cassius, take your men and attack their left flank. Try to hit those swordsmen. My turma, prepare spears. Marcus, take charge here and wait for my return.”

  “Take care, Rufius. We cannot afford losses like this.” He looked at his depleted line. He had lost six of his thirty two troopers. A fifth of his men had died!

  Rufius and his men used the same tactic as Marcus. Punching at the front two ranks with their spears they made the right flank reel. At the same time Cassius and his men released their javelins. Two of the swordsmen fell but, more importantly, the turma withdrew without taking casualties.

  As Rufius headed back Marcus noticed that the barbarians were much closer now. They kept steadily advancing. To the left he could see the prefect was closely engaged with the main warband. Rufius looked at the river. It was less than two hundred paces away.

  “Form line!” As the four turma dressed ranks Rufius said to Marcus, “We will charge and throw our javelins. I intend to withdraw towards the bridge. We are in danger of becoming isolated and trapped besides which the horses are tiring.”

  “Suits me, sir!” Marcus and his men were on the right of the line. Marcus turned to Gnaeus. “We are going to use javelins. I want those swordsmen dead!” Marcus realised that he was allowing revenge to rule his head but he also knew it was important for the morale of his men that they avenge their comrades.

  “Trot!”

  They moved forward. Marcus hefted the javelin to the horizontal. He saw that they had done well on the left flank of the Brigante. The well armed warriors who had been there were replaced by lighter armed warriors. The swordsmen in the second rank were still the main threat.

  “Charge!”

  Marcus saw the leader of the swordsmen. He recognised him as the headman from Stanwyck. It made it even more personal. He aimed his javelin at the man’s head. He was a cool customer and, as the missile headed towards his head he moved it slightly. The Brigante behind him took it full in the face.

  They wheeled and began to ride away. “Roman coward! Fight me like a man!”

  Marcus recognised the voice and he reined Raven in. He turned. “Why should I fight a deceitful liar such as you Elidr of Stanwyck?”

  His use of his name told the Brigante that he had been recognised. Marcus was not being foolish. He was not doing as Macro or Macro’s father might have done and risked his life foolishly. While they talked the warband was halted listening. He was buying time.

  “Because I give you my word that we will not attack until you and I have settled this.

  Rufius had reached their start point and looked at the scene before him. He saw that Marcus, along with his signifer, Titus, had not retreated. Was there a problem?

  To his horror he saw Marcus dismount and walk towards the Brigante while Titus held Raven.

  Chapter 21

  As Marcus handed his reins to Titus the signifer said, quietly, “Is this wise, sir?”

  Marcus shrugged, “It buys us time and that is worth the risk.”

  Elidr walked through his men. He could not believe that the Roman had acceded to his request. He would make short work of him. This would increase his chances of leading the tribe. Briac would not dare to do as he was doing. He strode towards the Roman. His eyes lit up with envy when he saw the sword in the Roman’s hand.

  “And when this is over, Elidr, what then?”

  “I will take your sword and we will slaughter your men.”

  Marcus nodded. He understood the rules of the combat. “And if I win, what then?”

  Elidr could not comprehend failure and so he spread his arms and smiled. “Then my warriors will carry my body to yonder hill and burn it.”

  “Do your oathsworn so swear?”

  Elidr frowned, the first hint of doubt entering his mind. This Roman understood the Brigante psyche. He nodded and the leader of his oathsworn said, “We swear.”

  Marcus dropped his cloak and went into his fighting stance. “Then let us get on with it, Elidr of the Brigante.”

  The Brigante was a bigger man than Marcus and his sword was also longer. He decided to use both to his advantage. He brought the sword over his head and swept it towards the Roman’s neck in a diagonal sweep. Had it connected then the contest would have been over. Marcus flicked up his shield and angled it so that the Brigante blade slid harmlessly down the side.

  Marcus’ right hand darted out in a steel blur and the tip went directly for Elidr’s eye. He jerked his head to the side but the sword cut a long gash in his cheek. There was a groan from the Brigante. It was first blood to the Roman.

  Elidr was warier now. He swung his sword horizontally at Marcus. This time the blade would not angle down the shield. Marcus braced himself with his left leg as he waited for the blow. At the same time he feinted with the Sword of Cartimandua. Elidr thought it was coming for his eye again and he moved back slightly. The result was that his sword cracked weakly against the Roman’s shield. The decurion did not wait for his opponent to regain the initiative and he punched with his shield making the Brigante tumble to the ground as he tried to keep his balance. There was another groan.

  Marcus stepped back. He could have leapt in and finished off Elidr, it would have been easy but he did not do so. He needed to win well. He wanted the Brigante to lose heart. He gestured with his sword for the Brigante to rise. Anger filled Elidr’s face. This was not the way it was supp
osed to happen. He would finish off the Roman quickly.

  Once on his feet he roared at the Roman and swung his sword with every muscle in his arm, shoulder and chest behind it. Marcus stepped to one side and the sword flashed through fresh air. He took the opportunity to slash at the Brigante’s head. He was slow to raise his shield and the blade cracked against the helmet. The dent the sword made in it was matched by the ringing in Elidr’s ears.

  The Brigante knew that he would have to use cunning to defeat the Roman. He was a skilful swordsman. Using his left hand he pulled his dagger from his belt. It was hidden from view by his shield. He swung his sword, once more, at the Roman’s head. As Marcus countered with his shield Elidr’s left hand darted in with the dagger. It caught on some of the mail links but still penetrated. It came away red.

  Elidr grinned, “We are even now Roman!”

  “No we are not for you have no honour and now I will kill you.”

  Marcus’ calm voice and the icy look in his eyes told Elidr that he meant it. As Elidr swung his sword Marcus blocked it with his own sword. As they came face to face Marcus pulled his head back and butted Elidr in the face. He heard the crack of bone and cartilage. He punched with his shield and, as Elidr stepped back, swung with his sword. Elidr had to counter with his own blade but his size and weight made him over balance and he had to step back quickly to keep his feet. He was now but five paces from his oathsworn who were watching in horror as their leader was given a lesson in arms from the young decurion.

  In a blur Marcus feinted with his shield and as Elidr tried to adjust his feet the sword of Cartimandua darted out and pierced the Brigante’s throat. Marcus held it there for an instant. “The Sword of Cartimandua has dealt out her justice! Die rebel!” He twisted the blade and pulled it out. Dark arterial blood spurted out like a fountain and as Elidr fell backwards it showered his oathsworn.