by Tanya Allan
“Aye, Commander.”
I watched the girl delegate the various responsibilities. Shortly afterwards, four girls rode off to take up positions as lookouts.
“My lady, how do you know so much military strategy?” Cabacula asked.
Smiling ruefully, I turned to him. “What did your mother say?”
“She spoke gibberish of spirits of the forest and goddesses. She says you came at a time of need in answer to her prayers.”
“Yet, you think differently?”
“I know little of gods and spirits. I know fear and Roman steel. Our warriors are brave and valiant, but are no match for those soldiers of Rome. They seem to move and fight as one, without fear and without any sign of weakness.”
“They are but men, as are you and your warriors. The only difference is in their training and equipment.”
“What do you know of such things?”
“I was part of an army as great as Rome’s. I’ve seen wars in which death was measured in thousands per day, not hundreds, in which women and children were deliberately targeted by those instigating it.”
“So it is with the Romans. They win a battle, and if the peoples do not totally surrender, or offer any form of resistance, then they wipe the whole village or settlement from the face of the earth,” Cabacula said, somewhat heatedly.
“I accept what you say, as war is a terrible thing for anyone. Just believe me when I tell you that I am no stranger to it.”
“What kind of people make their women fight?” he said.
At last, he was revealing his prejudice. This I could deal with.
“The same sort of people who expect them to carry and give birth to children unaided, to gather food, cook meals and look after men-folk for nothing in return. Freedom is not something that is exclusively man’s, but belongs to women equally. We want to be free, so we are prepared to fight for that freedom, would you have us taken in chains just for being women?”
“That’s not my point. Women shouldn’t fight!”
“Tell that to these girl who will risk death to free your comrades; the same comrades who are their fathers, husbands and brothers!”
“It’s not our way!” he insisted.
“Maybe not before, but from now on, just get used to it. Now, go and rest, for I expect you to show us mere women how to fight later.”
His gloomy visage broke into a reluctant smile.
“My lady,” he muttered and went to find somewhere to rest his head.
I found a mossy bank on which I lay for a while. I must have dozed off, for Iona shook me awake. The light was beginning to fade, so it was later that I had anticipated.
“The enemy scouts have been sighted. They don’t seem to be worried, for the main body of soldiers is marching up the valley in columns. The scouts are an arrow’s flight in front, and they are not vigilant.”
I was up instantly.
“Good. Wake everyone and get them to gather in their companies. First, they are to see to their horses. Make sure that all are fed, watered and are not lame. Then all the girls are to eat well and drink some water. Once everyone has fed, then ask the company commanders to come to me for briefing.”
I walked amongst my troops, encouraging and jesting with them as they prepared themselves. Some looked ashen with fear, while others couldn’t seem to stop talking. Everyone deals with fear in different ways.
I then watched as the Romans advanced on the hill, predictably making their camp in the shelter it offered. I had guessed correctly, as they simply encamped and posted sentries. No defences were put in place, and no attempt was made to dig any barriers.
“They are lazy!” I muttered.
“They are victorious, so they have no fear of attack,” said Cabacula, who had joined me.
“They will regret it.”
“They are still well armed and disciplined. Do not underestimate them, my lady.”
“Do not fear, I shall never underestimate them,” I said, turning to meet my commanders.
“Iona, I want you to brief the Recon Company, for as soon as the assault troops run through and cause mayhem, I want the cavalry to mount a feint to the north. Then, as the Romans start to organise, I want the Recon Company to go in from the south, along that slight dip in the hill. I want them to go in fast and assist the captives to escape. My guess would be the Romans will place them in the middle of the encampment with a few guards. They’ll be bound together and feeling depressed, so it will take them some time to realise we’re trying to free them.”
I then briefed the other companies as to what I wanted. It was simple. An infantry sneak attack, quickly in on two flanks at once; then the feint by the cavalry from the north as the infantry escaped under cover from the archers. As the Romans attempted to deal with them, the Recon Company would sneak in and free the captives.
I went through each phase slowly and methodically, answering all the ‘what if’ questions as they arose.
“Just ride hard and fast. Head round in the darkness, along the route we’ve already walked. We re-group north of here, at the fork in the river. The support company will assist the captives to get clear, as we stay and harass the enemy. Our task is to free as many of them as we can, then move the settlement up into the hills so the Romans will be unwilling to pursue us.”
At last, we were ready. The sun began its descent behind the hills, as the sky darkened. We watched and waited. Our bellies complained as we smelled the aroma of the Roman cooking pots. By the smell, they were having some form of stew. I guessed that some slain horse or local deer was in the pot, added to the hard tack and dried vegetables and garlic that I knew the Roman cooks carried on their wagons.
Darkness fell, and we watched as the sentries were posted. A silence pervaded the land, broken by confident voices and laughter from within the enemy camp.
I walked through the ranks, encouraging those who were beginning to doubt.
“This is the worst time; just before action. At least you know you’re going to be fighting, as those Romans think they’re going to sleep.”
After a couple of hours, the sounds from the Roman camp all but ceased completely. With muffled bridles and metal, my companies moved into positions. On the word of command, they went into action.
I rode with the assault company, as they had the most dangerous task of actually facing the enemy for the longest period. The plan worked beautifully, as the Romans didn’t know which way to turn. Most were either asleep or settled down and relaxed in their tents.
The two infantry attacks threw them completely. We overran the outer defences and caused maximum disruption, while suffering minimal casualties. Soldiers came running from their tents, half-dressed and carrying whatever weapons they had to hand. My girls dealt with them rapidly and without hesitation. No sooner than we were in, we had left, leaving the enemy confused and bewildered, fumbling in the dark.
It was at this point the cavalry attack came from the north. The well-trained legionaries didn’t hang about, forming themselves into defensive clusters wherever they found themselves.
Orders were bellowed, and the well-oiled military machine swung into somewhat belated action. As the Romans moved in formation to face the cavalry, the Recon Company managed to sneak in, kill the few guards and release the captives, as planned.
Having freed the captives, we withdrew, using the drums to tell the northern cavalry to do likewise.
As predicted, the enemy cavalry started to follow, but found themselves being cut down by the archers so were forced to retreat.
We lost eight girls to the enemy, five of which we were unable to retrieve. I tried to imagine the enemy commander being shown that he had been attacked by women! I wondered whether it was Gallinas. I hoped so, as it would make my job easier.
I expected the Romans to follow us, but they failed to do that. Instead, they dug in on the hillock, as if fearing a second attack. I was tempted to do just that, but realised that the element of surprise had gone, so th
ere was no advantage in doing so. There were others who wanted to have another go, and it took all my powers of persuasion to keep them in check.
We met as arranged by the fork in the river. While the horses drank and were refreshed, I took stock of the situation.
Iona discovered from the other men that her husband was dead, as were many of the leading men. The chief was alive, but he had lost his other sons, leaving Cabacula as the only one left.
I set scouts to keep watch for the enemy, as I had some tents pitched on the flat land in the river fork. Torches were lit and I had all the freed captives brought in.
We looked an amazing sight, with our obvious feminine shapes, long hair and warlike appearance. Many Romans had been injured or killed by my girls, so many had their blood on their arms and armour.
Morale was high, as adrenaline still coursed through my warriors’ blood streams. Most were laughing and joking, as they recounted their personal tales of heroism.
Gorard, the chieftain, stared in undisguised shock at the female warriors. At first, he was in a state of shock, but that changed as he recognised some of the girls.
“What do you think you are doing?” he shouted, as the enormity of the situation dawned on him.
Iona was abrupt with him. As a widow, she had nothing to lose, so she was curt and downright rude.
“We don’t ‘think’ we are doing anything, chief. We know what we are doing! We have saved you from slavery and probable death, so now you can scuttle away to the mountains and lick your wounds.”
He opened his mouth several times, with no sound coming from him. He had probably never been spoken to like that by anyone, least of all by a woman!
Iona deliberately turned her back on him and placed her right fist against her left breast in a pseudo-Roman salute to me.
“Lady Commander, what are your orders?”
I attempted to hide my smile as I answered.
“Cabacula, come forward!” I said, and the warrior walked into the dim light.
“My Lady?”
“Take the spare horses and the support company. Return to the settlement, collect those who remain and ride with all speed into the hills where you may be safer. We shall continue to harass the enemy to give you time to retreat, regroup and consider the future. The remaining companies will join you as soon as they can.”
“Aye, my lady. May I ask a question?”
I nodded.
“Will you be returning with them?”
“When my task is complete, there will be no need for me to return, but should you need me again, then perhaps I will come from the forest.”
He bowed his head, smiling slightly.
The chief was watching with an open mouth.
“Who in the blazes are you?” he asked.
Iona walked out until she was inches from him.
“She is the Lady Layla, commander of these warriors. She has enabled us to free you and allow you to live to fight again. Show respect, - man!”
The last word she spat as an insult.
“Iona, leave him,” I quietly rebuked my friend.
“My Lady,” she said, stepping back and placing her fist to her breast once more.
“Lalya? The Goddess of the woodlands?”
“My name is Layla, I am as mortal as you, but we waste time. Go, take your men and a hundred of the women and return to your families.”
Shaking his head and still clearly confused, the chief and his men were soon mounted and leaving with my support company. Some girls didn’t want to leave us, so they swapped with some whose husbands and fathers were amongst the men.
An hour later, all was quiet. I was able to rest for the first time for ages. Iona came to me.
“My lady?”
“Mmm?”
“Might I lie with you?”
I raised the blanket and the naked girl slipped in beside me. I was also naked, so as she caressed my breast, I smiled.
“So, while your husband likes the boys?”
She smiled and we kissed.
Chapter Three
The Romans clearly were confused. Normally, given the fact they had around fifteen hundred men, their commander might have ordered a rapid pursuit and counterattack, but he failed to do that. I sensed an uncertainty in his actions.
Obviously not prone to knee-jerk reactions, he simply regrouped and put in place a defensive perimeter in case of a second attack. As no second attack materialised, we heard the sounds of mobilisation just after dawn. I stood in the forest, watching the ranks of Romans and they moved, efficiently and relatively quietly towards the direction they believed their captives had taken.
The legionaries marched in full battle order. They wore their helmets and carried their shields and pilum at the ready, not slung over their shoulders as they probably would have preferred. All their ancillary equipment was in the rear with their supplies and support personnel. Quiet orders and sharp commands were the only sounds apart from the marching feet and the chink of metal on metal.
Scouts rode out in front and to the sides, with their cavalry keeping flanks covered. These were true professionals. I could fully understand how they had managed to conquer such a huge expanse of the known world.
Our attack came from their rear, out of the forest. The recon company attacked their supply wagons and disappeared before their cavalry could intercept them. Apart from damaging a couple of wagons, we made little impact. However, the attack obviously rattled their commander, who moved the supply wagons to the centre of the column for security. They were far from their lines, so if their food was taken, they would all go hungry. By placing the lumbering wagons in such a place, the speed of their advance was reduced by a third. Time was the key factor. Every moment I gave the tribe to escape to the hills was a moment gained towards their freedom.
I smiled, for I knew that within fifty years, the Roman Empire would be in total control of most of these lands, so this little action was purely academic.
I launched two more attacks. One as they passed along a narrow valley, so I had the archers let loose several volleys to slow them down.
I was impressed by the quick and effective reactions of the legion. They simply used their shields to form impenetrable tortoises, and still managed to advance. We inflicted few casualties, but succeeded in slowing them down further.
The second attack was my last.
There was a crude bridge crossing a rushing river in a steep valley. Made from two felled trees, lashed together and then hacked into a degree of evenness, the bridge was not wide. There was a crossing point a few miles downstream, where the land was flatter, but by crossing here, they hoped to reduce the march and get to where they believed the enemy was based. If they crossed at this point, then they would reach the existing settlement within a day’s march.
If I could hold them for just one day, then the tribe would get into the hills and away. If we managed to inflict too much injury, then perhaps the commander might even call off the campaign and return to lick his wounds.
The Romans reached the bridge as evening fell. They sent some scouts ahead, but they were forced to retreat because of our archers.
They retreated a short distance and formed a defensive encampment for the night. I don’t think anyone on either side slept much that night.
I was up before dawn, watching as the Romans broke camp. They were ready for battle, so I knew that this was crunch time.
They had to reduce the column to just three men wide in order to cross the bridge.
I let their scouts cross with impunity, so giving word that it was safe to proceed.
Then, once the first column mounted the bridge and were almost across I had the archers launch a ferocious volley. This was followed by a quick cavalry attack as the legionaries struggled to form a protective tortoise in cramped conditions on our side of the bridge.
This was successful, so they pulled back off the bridge to regroup.
It was a ludicrous situation. We were hidden f
rom their view by the trees, so they knew we were here, but not how many or how well equipped.
The bridge was in the middle, isolated and bare.
They had pulled back out of range of our arrows to decide upon the best course of action.
The day wore on. Hours passed, and soon it was noon. I had bought the tribe the time I wanted. It was at this point I ordered my entire force to evacuate and escape to the hills.
There was some argument, but with a lot of weeping, they did as I commanded.
I was left with Iona.
“Are you sure you don’t want to join the others?” I asked.
“I can’t leave you to die alone,” she said.
“I have no intention of dying.”
She smiled, lifting her chin, as if to say, I’m where I belong.
Shaking my head and smiling, I hefted the long javelin in my hand.
“Let’s do it!” I said, and we rode towards the bridge.
With the shields already in place, the second detachment of Romans marched up to the bridge to face us.
It must have presented a comical sight, the pair of us, lightly armoured and lightly armed, and on prancing horses, facing around thirty legionaries wrapped up like a parcel in their shields.
They stopped, their spears unwavering.
A single rider came from their rear, an officer on a beautiful white horse.
“There is no need for you to die here!” he shouted in Latin.
He was right, there was no need, but the tribe needed all the time we could give them. Feeling sorry for my horse, I dismounted, as did Iona. The horses trotted off into the forest behind us.
The Roman rider was a good eighty yards away, behind his infantry. I gauged the distance and threw my javelin. I knew I’d never reach him, but it was an excellent shot, forcing him to pull his horse to one side as the weapon hammered into a sturdy oak just behind him, and stuck there, quivering.
I drew my sword and advanced onto the bridge towards the stationary Romans, changing into a run within ten yards. Just before the first points of their spears, I jumped onto the top of their tortoise and ran along its back to jump down the other side and continue towards the mounted officer.
