by John Salter
She smiled, “Most things are yes, my name means as black as a Raven.” She pointed at the clothes he still wore, and the rest.” She almost ordered as he removed the remainder of his clothing. She walked to him and placed a hand on his chest, gently smoothing her hand along its surface, her fingers making circles around his nipples. He could feel himself getting aroused as they looked into each other’s eyes and her hand moved lower. He grew hard as her fingers sought out his erection, she smiled as he bent to kiss her but she moved away laughing.
“Are you always so impatient?” Continuing to laugh she turned and ran towards the water. He watched as she moved, ‘slowly old fellow’ he thought to himself wishing he was inside her. She splashed into the water and he felt the first ache of wanting as he yearned to feel her surround him. He recovered and walked to the water’s edge, it was cold against the skin of his feet. An owl in a nearby tree was hooted as if shouting encouragement. The sky was clear and full of stars now and the night air was warm against his body.
“Come on, get in. Surely a big strong soldier isn’t afraid of a little water?”
He walked further now nearly oblivious to the cold as it reached his thighs, a small tide lapping against him. Brenna was standing waist high motioning him forwards towards her upper body glistening with droplets of water. When he got to within touching distance she laughed again and turned, diving into the water and vanishing from sight.
She reappeared some feet away and swam further into the lake, her back visible above the dark water. Varro bent his legs and squatted allowing the water to reach his neck, he gathered some more and splashed if over his head. He shuddered slightly as he ducked underneath it and swam after her. He followed her for a while as they swam further out, the water getting colder the further they went. Eventually she turned and slowly headed back to shore.
Varro had just managed to get level with her as she began to leave the water, drips leaving her body. He saw she stopped waiting for him again smiling and he approached her. Without waiting for an invitation he held her close to him again, getting aroused as he kissed her gently on the lips. Her tongue forced his mouth open and darted in to his as her hand helped his arousal grow. He felt her slim waist and moved his right hand up her side as they kissed, gently cupping her breast. She moaned as he felt her hard nipple as they kissed more intently.
“Come.” She said breaking away and once again took him by the hand. She led him to a large downed oak lying on its side. She turned drawing him closer and drew him to her. She sighed and pushed herself onto the tree and then wrapped her legs around his waist, their tongues moving against each other’s. She massaged his swollen manhood carefully and slowly rubbing it against her wetness. He waited like never before wanting to thrust himself inside her. He opened his eyes and saw that hers were closed but then opened to look into his own. He was consumed by her beauty, her intelligence and passion as she reached around his hips and gently pulled him into her.
Chapter Five
Caratacus had waited in the shadows under thick low branches of trees for the rider to come back and report on the advancing Roman column. He had met up with his younger brother Deganus that morning at their pre-arranged rallying point in case of any unusual occurrence. If either one of them hadn’t arrived the other would know that there was something seriously wrong. They had spent a few hours with the war council going over tactics and possible plans dependant on what the rider reported.
His impatience was beginning to get the better of him and he now wanted to engage the enemy as soon as possible. He had sent the scout out to determine the route and number of legionnaires heading in his direction. He knew that they had already established a working harbour and some were already preparing to move away from the shore. What he didn’t know was how many would leave and where would they go, would they all go together or would they split their force and how many would stay at the shore. He knew that if the majority marched into the interior of the country, it would leave those at the harbour vulnerable and he would attack them cutting the others off from any re-supply or re-enforcements.
One thing he was certain of was that he and the other tribes loyal to him and his brother were now gathering. Had it not been for misinformation from Gaul, the Romans would never have set foot on solid ground but there was nothing he could do about that now. He had over five thousand fighters already which at such short notice, he was happy with as it had only been two days since news of the invasion had reached him. With more of his own warriors and the rest of the tribes he would treble the amount of Britons to Romans and more. Time was against him now however and it would take days for his extra forces to reach him, whilst at the same time evading the Romans, the last thing he wanted was a relatively small war band to be taken. He knew he couldn’t and wouldn’t wait forever, and dependant on the report would decide how to strike an early blow against the invading army. They had to be stopped, which meant dealing them a deadly blow or one that would at least cripple them just enough to hamper their movement, once that was achieved, they would be wiped out. Amongst his five thousand warriors, he had over two hundred chariots, five hundred horsemen, the rest were made up of foot soldiers, seasoned campaigners on the whole. Once the others arrived his numbers would swell but they would be made up of farmers, men and women who were used to working the land not fighting on it. They would be fit nonetheless and most would be efficient with a bow, he would have little time to mould them into battle ready warriors.
“Sir, a rider approaches.” Just then his attention was caught by the sound of cantering hooves. He got to his feet and walked to greet the man who had been sent out to spy on the Roman’s progress.
“Sire,” he shouted, coming to an abrupt halt, mud being thrown up by the animal’s feet, Caratacus caught the horse’s reins, “What did you see, what of the Romans?”
The rider jumped off the horse and landed heavily on the ground almost stumbling over in his eagerness to report.
“They have divided their force into three columns one of them is now marching west, one north and the remainder north west. It looks like they mean to cover all areas of the country. Each army is about five to six thousand strong and has cavalry, light and heavy infantry and their auxiliaries. They have wagons full of equipment to the rear containing food, more weapons, spare horses, oxen, cattle even mules for pulling the carts. At the shore, above the cliffs it looks like they are beginning to build some kind of large palisade, there are thousands of them there still. Some of the ships that delivered them to us have already begun to return to Gaul but others are still at anchor and haven’t been unloaded. I would say that they have left a full legion guarding the shoreline.”
Caratacus thought briefly for a few moments and then announced to his plan to the war council. “We will attack on two fronts; firstly I will take four thousand men and ambush the column heading west. If the gods are with us and I’m careful, we will then track and attack the other columns. Deganus my brother, I want you to stay in this general area and harass their supply lines.” He looked at Caratacus with a bemused expression but didn’t respond.
“You will attack the base on the shore but I don’t want you to go head to head with them brother. You will be too few, so you are to use guile and the cunning of a wolf and only take them on when you are certain, absolutely certain of victory. These men from Rome won’t last long on our soil if their supplies are destroyed, they’ll starve and won’t have replacement weapons or food. Remember they are the ones far from home, I want you to concentrate on those fat swollen ships at anchor. If they were lost with their goods on board, it would be a major blow for them.
I don’t know when we’ll see each other again but we have no choice in this, we have to destroy or at least cripple their army.’ He paused thinking. ‘Togodumnus will arrive soon with thousands of warriors under his banner but we can’t wait until then to act. I will take all the chariots as you won’t need them but you’ll have enough horse.”
He grabbed his brother’s arm and they hugged. “May the gods protect you brother.” He turned, called for his horse, mounted it and rode away.
Sometime later with the light beginning to fade, Caratacus watched from high above on a ridgeline as the wagons making up the rear of the westerly column, limped along what was left of the path, worn away by those who had gone before them. Although it was the middle of the campaigning season for the Romans and early summer, the ground had been churned and worn by the leading troops and great ruts now scarred the land. Their boots, horses and wagons had proven too much for a track that had never witnessed so much travel on its surface previously.
A small group of five wagons had become isolated by the ruined ground and now struggled to keep up with the rest of the army. They had tried and failed to use the path so had finally given up when the wheels kept getting stuck. Men were now pushing the wagons that were pulled by thickset mules along the side of the ravaged route.
“This will be a taste of what is to come.” Caratacus said looking into the valley below them. “Once the other wagons have gone beyond that curve,” he pointed, “these five will be all alone. No doubt the leading group will be looking for somewhere suitable to camp for the night before dark, so we have to move quickly. If we skirt the tree line and wait a few hundred feet this side of that natural bend up there, we should be safe to attack them without the others being aware of it.”
His tribal chieftains nodded in agreement. “Once they have been taken care of we’ll see about the rest of the column who won’t have the protection of any natural defences and we’ll destroy them.”
It took little time for Caratacus and his war party to get into position and they didn’t have long to wait before the enemy began to get close. From the safety of a thick tree line, the Britons watched eagerly for their prey to arrive. Here he had female warriors with the men, their hair limed and their skin blue. He had seen them fight before and knew what they lacked in strength they made up in ferocity, although a few he saw were well muscled and larger than the men.
“Wait, wait, wait…..NOW.” Caratacus ordered as spears flew towards the struggling Romans and their animals. His plan was to try and incapacitate them before destroying each and every one of them. As warriors ran into full view of the startled soldiers, the first animal was speared through the back and screamed out in agony and began to bolt forward, its wagon bucking and twisting in its plight behind it.
One trooper was hit at the base of his throat, just above his armour, his eyes wide with shock as realisation hit him, Britons swarmed all around them. A female shrieking like a banshee swung her long sword as she grew level with him. She was rewarded with a sickening wet clunk as her weapon cut through the jaw of the man biting into the cheek guards either side of his helmet. As far as she was concerned, he had come to take her children, kill her husband and to rape her and so deserved such a death. He died almost instantly but couldn’t fall flat because of the spear, so the woman now splashed with fresh blood, twisted him to one side and used her foot to pry her blade free.
Separate attacks were taking place all around as the small wagon train was assaulted and men were butchered. They were outnumbered and at a tactical disadvantage and didn’t have the numbers to form up in their traditional battle lines. Caratacus now in the thick of the fight, saw one legionnaire ripping free a horn from the rear of a covered wagon, intent on warning the others of the ambush.
Caratacus ran, sprinting towards him, running past others, his large sword in his right hand as he tugged on his knife on his belt and pulled it free of its sheath. Screaming as loud as he could, he caught the attention of the soldier, who whirled around in panic, hatred in his eyes as he leapt towards him. Caratacus was so quick that the soldier only had time to jerk backwards slightly as his attacker landed his sword and knife together finding their marks as they were embedded into his chest and forced inward and upward under his armour. The eyes were dead before the knife reached its hilt as the sword had done its work and the man fell backward, silent. In a very short time, the Britons were rifling through the contents of the five wagons, the enemy slain and scattered on the ground all around them.
“Sire.” One of his warriors shouted and pointed at the contents of the wagon he was searching.
“What have you found?” Caratacus asked. Looking under the sheeting he saw what looked like giant bows in pieces, pulleys and wooden frames.
“What are these?” He tried picking one of the bows up but it was attached at one side to a frame and wouldn’t move. He ran over to the other wagons and found the same equipment in all but one that contained large arrows.
“I don’t know what these are but they were intended to be used against us in some way I’m sure, take them north,” he said to one of his men a dark smile across his face. “Once we’ve found out how to use them we’ll turn them on their former owners.”
Twenty five men, five to each cart began to prepare to take the wagons away as Caratacus gathered the rest to move forward. He had deliberately left the corpses of the enemy where they had fallen. If he had more time, he would have had them disembowelled or had their heads removed to put fear into others but that could wait, he knew they had to move quickly. As the first of the carts began to be towed away, Caratacus kicked his horse and led his warriors up into the trees. The sight of the destruction below them as they looked down onto the former column was something that none of them had ever seen before and it encouraged them and gave them heart for what was to come.
In the time that it had taken them to destroy the former custodians of the five carts, the other soldiers in the column were a few miles west and had already found somewhere to camp for the night. They had begun to set their tents up and were now busy building palisades and all round defensive positions. Soldiers were digging trenches to create six foot deep ditches, the earth they had removed was used to create walls of solid mud. In effect they would soon have a twelve foot wall around their base. They had chopped down nearby trees and were now embedding them into the earthen banks, sharpened at one end and then hammered home deep into the earth. They were then sharpened into spikes at the other once they were in place using axes.
From their position high above, the Britons watched fascinated by the energy, order and efficiency of their enemy.
“Maybe they are intending to make a permanent settlement here.” One of the men offered, then added. “But why would they start building straight away? It seems odd for an army that’s been on its feet marching all day.” The warrior wasn’t talking to any of the others specifically and no-one was answering, they were too transfixed on the scene below. As the construction continued Caratacus noted that there were sentries already posted some two hundred paces from the building going on below them. He also saw men on horses presumably scouting the area for hostile forces. He decided it was better to withdraw and make plans for the next attack.
Varro awoke the next morning with the smell of smoke in his nostrils. As he slowly became aware of his surroundings he realised he was inside a roundhouse, Brenna’s to be precise. He had no recollection of how he had got there, his last memory of the night before was being with her at the lakeside. He turned and found her lying there next to him, partially covered in a large animal fur. Her smooth tanned flesh looked very appealing and he was tempted to peel the furry warm skin back and explore her body, he felt himself getting warmer as his eyes moved over her.
“Morning.” A sleepy voice said and he realised that she was waking, laying there looking at him, eyes barely open. Without hesitation she leaned up and kissed him gently on the mouth, he responded and kissed her back. Her hands sought out his body and he pushed the animal skin aside and was rewarded by the sight of her beautiful body, she smiled before her tongue moved over his as they began to meld together.
“Centurion.” A voice shouted from somewhere outside. Varro recognised it as Veranius as he darted away from Brenna and struggled to his feet.
“I’ll be
with you shortly, Varro shouted, ‘go and catch some fresh fish in the lake for breakfast.” He heard something of a reply, a grumble and muttering maybe but didn’t decipher what was said exactly and didn’t really care as Brenna pushed him down and onto his back and mounted him, sliding him inside her.
Sometime later Varro found all his men fishing at the lake. He walked past them as they made remarks about his tardiness and made jokes about where he had been. He didn’t need to answer and within seconds Brenna appeared at the side of the lake, removed her fur blanket, touched his hand and walked naked into the water. The men stared open mouthed as Varro smiled.
“You lucky fucker.” Veranius said as the rest of the men laughed.
Some miles away, Caratacus and three men observed the Roman column preparing to move from their overnight position. It was clear now that they weren’t building a fort at all and that last nights fortified position was just that, a fortified position for just one night. It demonstrated to the Britons just what these foreigners were prepared to do to defend themselves even after a long days march over great distances. The Britons in contrast would in all likelihood only have put lookouts around the perimeter of their own camp.
“These men will take a little more cunning to crack than our normal enemies I believe. They are most vulnerable when they are on the move and strongest when they have built their defences for the night.” He said to those watching with him and the enemy. The sentries were going into their camp and he wondered how they could march all day, guard all night and then march all day again. The answer became evident as he saw the men climbing aboard carts, where they were presumably going to rest or even sleep as their comrades drove the wagons forward.
