by Griff Hosker
The ala began to cheer and the oathsworn’s hands went to their swords. “Remember your oath.” He held up the sword of Cartimandua. “This is the sword of the Brigante. Think before you break an oath.”
The leader nodded. He and his brethren picked up the body and slowly began to carry the corpse to the hill. The rest of the warband followed leaving Marcus and Titus alone.
“Well, sir, you never do things the easy way do you?”
They mounted and rode back to the waiting, cheering turmae. Marcus could see the anger on Rufius’ face but he would not reprimand him in front of the men. Marcus was saved by the rider who galloped over to them. “Sir, the Prefect says we are to pull back over the bridge. He says can you cover the withdrawal and then use the ford?”
“Tell him aye.” As the messenger rode off Rufius shouted, “Javelins at the ready. Skirmish order.”
There were no warriors between them and the road. They trotted forward. The Brigante on the left of Caronwyn’s column were suddenly aware of the cavalry approaching. They partly turned. Caronwyn had no idea what had happened to Elidr. His warband appeared to have disappeared. She was incandescent with rage. Her warriors had forced the Romans back. The corpses of the horses and the troopers marked their withdrawal. Briac too had had success. Now her men were halting. She saw the troopers who had been facing Briac use the hiatus to flood back across the bridge to the safety of the fort.
“Forwards! Victory is within our grasp!”
Before her men could react Rufius and his four turmae charged in and hurled their javelins. The Brigante held their shields above their heads. A second shower of javelins followed. A buccina sounded and Caronwyn cursed as the Romans she had been fighting fled across the bridge. All her anger and hatred was now directed at the four turmae who had suddenly attacked her. Her men now held the end of the bridge. The last horse warriors would be slaughtered.
“Kill them!”
Rufius had done enough. “Sound the recall!”
The four turmae wheeled to the right and followed the decurion as he headed directly for the river. Caronwyn wondered what he was doing. She and her amazons galloped after them. When she reached the bank she saw the eighty odd troopers swimming the narrow river. Already the first ones were clambering on to the bank. They had evaded her!
Julius Demetrius had watched the whole battle from the southern gate. He had not been idle and two Scorpios had been man handled from the east and west gates to double the artillery pieces protecting the bridge. Every available man was now on the southern walls. He had no idea what had just happened although he had seen Marcus fight a single combat with a barbarian. He did not know what had made the warband leave but it had saved the day. The Prefect and the rest of the ala had been restricted by the land and were not as free to manoeuvre as Rufius and his men. He watched the ala ride to the east and west gates. It would have been madness to try to enter through the southern gate.
Caronwyn reached Briac and his men. They were cheering and celebrating as though they had won. “Your cousin had better be dead, Briac, or he will wish that he was. He has cost us a quick victory.” Before the warrior could reply she snapped, “Now take the bridge and attack the gate!”
Briac nodded and turned to the warriors closest to him. “Make a wedge and advance across the bridge. Make sure that you are covered with shields.”
The hundred men closest to Briac eagerly began to line up. Pedair was amongst them in the front rank. He would show his uncle what he could do. They would march six abreast across the bridge and they knew that their shields would be effective. The vaunted Romans were going to lose!
The Brigante warriors had not faced bolt throwers before. The Legate allowed them to reach the middle of the bridge before he ordered his four machines to release their deadly bolts. He did not do so all at once. There was a count of five between each one. It was a clever move for the cracks as they were released rolled together like thunder. The bolts themselves carved a line through shields, metal, flesh and bone. The four bolts cleared the bridge of the sixty men who had just stepped on to it. Not all died immediately. Some were thrown into the river while others merely had deep wounds and broken limbs. Pedair was one of the few who survived and stumbled backwards, still shaking from the shock of the wall of death which had struck them. The first attack had failed. They had, however, no respite for the Legate continued to send bolt after bolt across the river making the barbarians move further and further away. Even when they moved from the bridge itself the deadly machines tracked them and continued to plague them. Finally the Brigante took shelter out of sight of the fort and the artillery. Caronwyn had been thwarted.
Banquo and his warriors had spent a day watching the routine of the men on the wall. They knew now of the dangers of the ditches and they also knew of the dangers beyond the walls. In the forest, overlooking the wall he gathered his men around him. His brother’s style of leadership had been to tell just the chiefs of his plans. Banquo knew, from his oathsworn, that young warriors liked to feel part of the plan.
“Brothers, we will scale the walls tonight. If we have to kill the Romans on the wall we will do so but I hope that we can be as the shadows of the night and move through their land unseen. I want us to march south and join our Brigante friends and the priestess of the Mother. The Votadini gave their word. My brother might have broken his oath but I am a Votadini and I keep my honour!”
They were the right words to say and the young warriors were all committed. They would follow this valiant young prince and the Votadini would be honoured once more.
As night fell they slipped like wraiths across the ditch. The two sentries who might have alerted the mile castle were slain by arrows. Once over the wall they disappeared south and by morning had crossed the Vallum and the Stanegate. Unknown to any Roman a warband of armed Votadini was south of the wall. The Parcae were toying with the Romans.
The VIth were being pushed hard by First Spear Broccus. He turned to the centurion of the 1st century. “Just keep them moving Servius. We have waited too long as it is to move. I know some of these auxiliaries are good soldiers but they can’t handle a rebellion on their own.”
Almost on cue one of the Thracians galloped in. “First Spear, the decurion sent me. The bridge is held. They are wearing Roman uniforms.”
There was hesitation from the trooper. First Spear snapped, “Well get on with it! If they are our lads then we can slow up can’t we?”
“Sorry sir, the decurion reckons they are deserters or barbarians in looted uniform.”
“That’s better sonny. Now ride back and tell him to report everything.”
“Er, sir, there is a boat moored next to the fort. On the other side of the island.”
First Spear sighed, “A report in three parts! How refreshing!”
The trooper leapt on his horse, threw a quick salute and galloped back to the relative safety of the fort. First Spear scared him.
Turning to his cohort First Spear shouted, “Right boys. A quick double march up the road and we can see if can make these deserters shit themselves and give up!”
The men cheered. They were in the mood for action.
The auxiliaries guarded their flanks in case the Thracians had missed an ambush and they made double time to reach the bridge.
Inside the fort Severus had seen the Thracians. He hoped that they were the only threat but he was not certain. He and his men had not bothered to follow Caronwyn’s orders and destroy the bridge. It would have taken them too long. Once their friends and their boat had reached them then they had an escape route. He turned to his number two. “Get the treasure in the boat and stand by. If this goes wrong we will head out to sea and Gaul.”
“It could be just a turma of cavalry.”
“I know but it could be the VIth. I do not intend to risk a run in with them.”
He went to the gate and watched the Thracians as they dismounted and tethered their horses. They had done their part. Severus had hi
s fifteen Romans and forty two barbarians. Most of the Brigante had been wounded and all of them were useless. He knew that for if they were warriors of any standing they would have gone with the army north. Severus knew that they could hold the fort against the Thracians and even a second auxiliary force. He hoped that was all that would be coming. When he saw the eagle he knew that they were doomed.
He summoned Ragdh. “They have sent the legion. I have a plan. I want you and your men to keep the bridge clear with the bolt throwers and I will take my men to attack the legionaries when they manage to cross. We will use my boat to cross the river downstream.”
Ragdh was suspicious. “Wouldn’t it make more sense to all wait in here?”
“If you like you and your men can attack them and we will use the bolt throwers. We are better than your lads anyway. My boys have fought the legion before. If you keep the bridge clear of large numbers we can deal with any who get through. We have to protect the gate don’t we?”
Ragdh could not see any advantage in what the Roman was doing. It seemed both brave and foolhardy. He and his warriors were happy to use the bolt throwers. It would be good to kill Romans in large numbers. He nodded to Severus. “When do we begin?”
“Wait until the first men try to come across the bridge. When they get half way over let them have it. That will give us time to get in position and to hide.” He pointed the small island in the middle of the river. “We will come down from that direction. The island will hide us.”
Ragdh had to admire the Roman’s cunning and his bravery. He watched as they left the fort through the east gate and then he returned to the southern gate. “Get ready with the bolt throwers.”
First Spear saw the Roman helmets disappear from the walls. He wondered what that meant. He had seen the bolt throwers. They would make the bridge a slaughterhouse for anyone who tried to cross. He summoned the Tungrian centurion. “I want twenty of your lads to run across the bridge.”
The Tungrian said, “That will be suicide!”
“Not all at once, you half wit! One at a time. If they go all at once then they will be slaughtered. I want to see if they have archers. If your boys use their shields then they should be safe. They can shelter beneath the walls. If they get across then my slower legionaries will try it.”
“Very well First Spear.” In reality the centurion had no choice. He was outranked and he knew it; he had to obey.
Ragdh saw the Romans running across the bridge. The warrior on the bolt thrower asked, “Well?”
He chewed his lip. The Romans were not doing as Severus had said. He wondered if they would kill the soldier. A second and a third followed. Ragdh was about to order the bolt thrower to be used when one of warriors shouted, “The bastards are leaving sir. They are in the boat!”
Now he knew that he had been outwitted. “There are more Romans coming over.”
He saw the legionaries with their huge shields as they lumbered across the bridge. “Use the bolts.”
To their horror the two bolts they released flew too high and more Romans sped across the wooden structure. As his men fought to adjust the machine even more Romans flooded across. They released another two bolts. One speared a legionary in the leg while the other buried itself in the bridge itself. Ragdh saw a hand appear over the wall as the first of the Tungrians was hoisted up to the fighting platform. He knew then that it was over.
First Spear was the fourth man over the wall. He laid about him with his gladius. The long swords used by the Brigante were of no use in such a confined space. Quintus Broccus had killed six before he realised that they had taken the fort. It had cost them one man. The Allfather had watched over them!
Inside the fort at Coriosopitum Livius, Rufius and Metellus faced Marcus. The Legate sat at his desk watching and listening.
“But sir, I did not disobey any orders!”
“Nonsense! Standing orders forbid such a thing!”
Marcus sighed, “There was a risk, sir. Perhaps it was a gamble but it worked. A third of their men were out of the battle at the end. You taught us to use our heads. I was using mine.”
Livius could not argue with that. The three of them were more upset because they could have lost the popular young decurion and the talismanic sword. “Suppose he had defeated you?”
“That never occurred to me, sir.”
Metellus wagged a finger at Marcus. “One of these days a young warrior will face you who will defeat you.”
Marcus nodded although he did not believe it. The sword would keep him safe. If he had not had the Sword of Cartimandua then he would not have accepted the challenge.
The Legate stood. “Let us put that in the past. What will these Brigante do now?”
They all looked at Marcus. He was half Brigante and, as he had shown with the combat, understood the mind of the enemy. “They will cross the river and attack us tonight. There is no honour in dying to a bolt. They will make a sacrifice to Icaunus the god of the river and then they will cross.”
“Will they swim or use rafts?”
Rufius pointed to the south. “There are many trees. They will use rafts.”
The Legate rubbed his chin. If they crossed the river then there was nothing to stop them bypassing the fort and heading for the thinly defended wall. The Votadini had been cowed but the sight of a Brigante army might rekindle the fire of rebellion in their breasts.
“We must stop them at the river.” The Legate jabbed a finger at the map on the wall.
“Easier said than done, sir. They could cross anywhere. Upstream they could probably ford the river.” Livius had patrolled this land for years and knew the Tinea well.
“We will concentrate our efforts on stopping them here. If they move upstream we will deal with that problem later for it will take them some time to reach us. There are a couple of hours until dark. I suggest you rest your men for we may need them after dark.”
As they turned to leave Livius said, “Sir, if I might suggest having the garrison measure accurately to the river. The onagers might discourage them.”
“Thank you Livius, that is a good suggestion.”
Chapter 22
The legionaries quickly disposed of the bodies of the Brigante. They were hurled into the river. The Thracians were not given any respite. First Spear sent them north towards Vinovia. He spoke urgently to the decurion. “I am worried that we have heard nothing from the north. Your lads were patrolling this road but so far we have only seen you. Where are the others?”
The decurion was equally concerned. Once the fort at Morbium had been captured he knew that his comrades would be cut off but he had expected some scouts to be watching the captured fort from the north. The fact that they were not there was unsettling. “We can reach the fort quickly and find out if the garrison holds there.”
“Be careful. The handful of men we just killed couldn’t have taken this fort. There is a much bigger army out there somewhere and, at the moment, you are our only cavalry.”
Felix and Wolf spotted the Thracians as they approached the fort. The young scout had found the fort empty and hid close by. He and Wolf needed rest. He looked on approvingly as the decurion sent in two men and waited with the rest. Felix mounted his horse. These were Romans. They were not deserters or Brigante in disguise. He made sure that he waved as he approached. The Thracians were suspicious and twenty javelins were aimed at Felix. Wolf growled at the new soldiers.
“What is your story boy? That is a Roman horse you are riding.”
“I am Felix the scout of Marcus’ Horse. Legate Demetrius sent me south to see if there were any Brigante here. There are not.”
The decurion was relieved. “Right lads. He seems genuine; you can lower your weapons. We are safe. The dog won’t attack us. What is happening here, son?”
“The Votadini, Selgovae and Novontae have attacked the wall. There is a large Brigante army and they are attacking Coriosopitum.”
“Did you see any of our lads?”
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��There are some in Coriosopitum.” He pointed at Vinovia. “Many died there and there were some on the road as I came south.” He gestured at the plume on the decurion’s helmet. “There were decurions’ bodies there. I am sorry.”
“Not as sorry as me, son.” He turned to a trooper. “Cassius, ride to First Spear and tell him what the lad just told us. We will head north and keep an eye on the Brigante.” As the trooper galloped off he asked, “Can they hold out?”
“There are many Brigante but it is Marcus’ Horse and they have the sword. They will hold out.”
“I hope that you are right.”
Caronwyn and her priestesses stood on the banks of the Tinea. Behind them were the serried ranks of the Brigante. They were all out of range of the bolt throwers. The walls of the fort were lined with the garrison. The captured trooper had been stripped naked and bound. One of Caronwyn’s amazons held a knife to his throat. The trooper had been captured when his horse had been killed and his body pinned beneath it. He had expected death but to stand shivering on a river bank with baying barbarians all around him was not the death he had expected.
“Great Icaunus take this sacrifice that we may safely cross. Take the body of this man and let his death be payment for our transgression.”
She nodded and the knife was ripped across his throat. The blood spurted and the lifeless corpse thrown into the waters. It disappeared for a moment and then the current picked it up and it emerged in the middle of the river and began to head towards the northern bank. The priestesses all gave a wild and terrifying shriek. “The god accepts the sacrifice!” Caronwyn stared at the fort. The Romans thought that they had thwarted her with their machines. She would show them that they would use the waters of the land to defeat these defilers of her land.
