Hibernia (Veteran of Rome Book 2)

by William Kelso

  “What’s happened to the southern picket?” Trebonius frowned as he turned to his officers. “Did they make it back?”

  One of the Tribunes shook his head.

  “No Sir, they must still be out there, maybe they are hiding.”

  “Maybe,” the Legate muttered sourly.

  On the fringe of the wood the Hibernian riders had gathered together and were watching the ramparts. Among their ranks were packs of sleek grey Hibernian hunting dogs and their baying and barking was incessant. The Hibernians however seemed to be waiting for something. From amongst the trees Corbulo suddenly heard the mournful blare of a Hibernian Carnyx. It was followed by another blast and then another. Armed men began to appear along the tree line; more and more of them until the whole forest was bristling with shields, axes and spears. The Hibernians were singing and the noise of their strange language mingled with the barking dogs as it carried across the open fields to the Romans on their ramparts. Then from amongst the massed Hibernian ranks a solitary war chariot pushed out into the fields and came cantering towards the Roman fort. The chariot was pulled along by a two white small shaggy horses and in it stood three men. The vehicle came to a halt beside the Hibernian rider who had been impaled by the Scorpion. Two of the occupants got down onto the ground and Corbulo’s face darkened as he noticed that the man who had remained standing in the chariot was wearing a black eye patch over one eye. Corbulo peered at him with a sudden sense of foreboding. The man was tall and thin and had a white beard that reached to his ears and a bald- head. He looked like a druid.

  “Hold,” Trebonius snapped as the Scorpion crew swivelled their weapon in the direction of the chariot. “Looks like they want to talk.”

  The Legate turned and was about to start off in the direction of the gateway when Corbulo cleared his throat.

  "Sir," he said stepped forwards, "Why don't you let me talk with them. I know something about these Hibernians. They are an untrustworthy lot. Maybe this here," he said, gesturing towards the three men beside the chariot, "is just a ruse to identify and kill you. The Hibernians train their warriors to prioritise and kill the leaders of their enemy. It's how they fight."

  Trebonius hesitated and glanced at Corbulo with a wary mistrustful look. Then he turned to stare across the fields at the solitary chariot. For a moment he said nothing as he made up his mind.

  "Allright," he said sharply, "Go and find out what they want and you," the Legate said pointing at a young spotty faced Tribune of no more than eighteen, "will accompany him."

  As Corbulo made his way along the lines of Legionaries towards the main gateway he was suddenly conscious of the young aristocratic Tribune by his side. The youth was nervous.

  "What's your name?" Corbulo growled.

  "Galba," the Tribune muttered. The youth was silent for a moment. "Do they really train their men to go after our officers?" he said at last.

  "Do you think I made it up son?" Corbulo replied.

  The Tribune did not reply but his face grew more and more serious. He did not seem to notice the faint smile that appeared on Corbulo's lips.

  ***

  Corbulo could feel the hundreds of Roman eyes staring at him as he strode across the open muddy field towards the three Hibernians and their chariot. The relentless rain was still pouring down from grey skies. Galba plodded along at his side in tense silence. As they moved away from the fort three Roman Legionaries slithered down the earthen rampart to retrieve the body of the Cornicen and his trumpet from where it lay in the grass. The instrument after all was a valuable piece of military equipment.

  As he approached the waiting men Corbulo could not take his eyes off the tall thin bearded man with the long white cloak he'd spotted earlier and as he did so his mood darkened and his mouth seemed to dry up. The man was in his thirties and he was gripping a wooden staff and he definitely looked like a druid. Corbulo clenched his hand into a fist as the sight of the druid brought forth memories of the battle for Mona Insulis, the strong hold of the druids, the sacred isle, where the druids, mad with blood lust and vengeance, had sacrificed and tortured captured Roman soldiers in order to appease their alien gods. Corbulo had seen the aftermath of their work and he had never forgotten the utter depraved barbarity of it all. Every Roman soldier hated and feared the power of the druids and their closeness to the gods but the druids were still just men and they could die like men too he thought with growing anger.

  Corbulo came to a halt before the chariot and its small horses. The three hostile Hibernians stared at him in silence. The two veteran warriors were older men of around Corbulo's age and they were clad in dark leather armour and were wearing golden and silver torques around their necks. They did not look very different to the wild Brigant tribesmen Corbulo had fought in his youth. Their long dark wild hair fluttered gently in the breeze and numerous tattoos disappeared up their arms and they were leaning on their spears. The men looked as hard as nails and Corbulo folded his arms across his chest as he waited for the warriors to speak. But it was the druid who spoke first and his fluent command of Latin took Corbulo by surprise.

  "I am Faelan, eldest druid of Tara," the tall man with the bald head said in a deep powerful voice, "This is Finn and his brother. They do not speak your language but I shall translate. This land does not belong to Rome, it belongs to Finn and he wants to know what you are doing here, Roman?"

  The druid fixed his eye on Corbulo and Corbulo felt a sudden shiver of unease pass down his spine. Could this druid read his thoughts? At his side Galba had thrust his chin into an aggressive confident look but it was all just show. The young Tribune was as tense as a newly wed virgin on her wedding night. Slowly Corbulo wiped the rainwater from his forehead and ignoring Faelan, he turned to the two warriors who were watching him with hostile eyes.

  "We have come to support the claim of Tuathal Techtmar to the High Kingship of Hibernia," Corbulo said grandly. "If Finn will promise his support to Tuathal then he and his people will be left in peace."

  A hiss escaped from Faelan's mouth. "We already have a High King at Tara," he snapped.

  Corbulo kept his eyes fixed on Finn and his brother.

  "But I don't see him here." he exclaimed looking around the small gathering.

  Faelan was silent as the two brothers muttered something to each other in a dialect that was too difficult for Corbulo to understand.

  "King Elim is in the north but he will be returning to Tara soon," Faelan growled. "Tuathal Techtmar is not welcome here. Take your soldiers, board your ships and go home Roman, no one here wants you, nor will they support you."

  Corbulo sighed and turned to look at the earthen ramparts of the Roman fort. For a moment he was silent.

  "I agree with you," Corbulo said as he turned back to face the Hibernians, "Tuathal is a dick and I don't blame you for not wanting him but he does have one thing that you and your men don't have." Corbulo grasped his hand around his cock. "He's got balls gentlemen. He is waiting for you over there. If you are such brave warriors, then why don't you come and try and kill him?"

  At his side Corbulo sensed Galba stiffen. Finn and his brother too did not seem to need a translation to understand what Corbulo had just said. They broke out into an angry muttering and one of the warriors took a threatening step towards Corbulo. But it was Faelan who replied first and there was anger in his voice.

  "Do you think that we are that stupid?" the druid cried. "If you have come to fight then tell your cowards to come out from behind their walls and face us like real men."

  Corbulo ignored Faelan and shook his balls with his hands.

  "Have you got any of these Finn?" he cried turning from one brother to the other. "Shall I check just in case?"

  Faelan stepped down from the chariot and called out something to his two companions that Corbulo could not understand but the warriors were not listening. One of them spat onto the ground beside Corbulo's feet and without a word stepped up onto the chariot. He was swiftly joined by the second warr
ior who grasped hold of the reins and with surprising speed the chariot was rolling away towards the lines of waiting Hibernian tribesmen. Only Faelan remained. The druid was staring at Corbulo with sudden wariness. Then he shook his head and raised and pointed his staff at Corbulo.

  "You should remember my name," Faelan said quietly, "for I am the son of Queen Boudicca, last rightful ruler of the Iceni and I have seen what is to come. If you do not leave by tonight, then we shall take no prisoners and I promise you, those that fall into our hands will have their hearts ripped out whilst they are still alive. Lugh does not want you to survive. By the next full moon you will all be dead and the ravens will feast on your corpses. Fear the one eyed man, fear the coming of the black ravens on the northern wind."

  "Oh fuck off," Corbulo snapped angrily. Then he turned and strode off back towards the Roman fort calling for Galba to follow him. A few moments later the young Tribune caught up with him. He was breathing rapidly and blushing despite the cold rain.

  "Walk, don't run lad, show them that you are not afraid," Corbulo muttered.

  Galba nodded quickly and tried to slow his pace. Up ahead the lines of Legionaries on top of their fortified ramparts were still down on one knee with their large red rectangular shields leaning against their bodies.

  "What was all that about?" Galba gasped at last unable to contain himself. "You insulted them."

  "I certainly hope so," Corbulo murmured grimly, "That was the whole idea. Let's hope Finn is really annoyed for I want him to attack us."

  "Why, I don't understand, those were not the Legate's instructions," Galba said in alarm.

  "Maybe not," Corbulo said with a sigh, "but if they attack us, they are going to get slaughtered."

  Chapter Twenty-One - The Stained Earth

  "Well what did they want?" Trebonius cried as Corbulo followed closely by Galba clambered up the earth rampart towards him. Corbulo straightened up as he reached the top and rapped out a quick salute.

  "They wanted to know what we were doing here Sir," Corbulo replied, "So I told them about Tuathal but they didn't seem very keen on him so then I invited them to attack us."

  Trebonius opened his mouth and then closed it again. His eyes narrowed.

  "You did what?" the Legate exclaimed.

  "I told them," Corbulo said patiently, "That if they were real men, they should come and try and kill Tuathal."

  Trebonius shook his head in bewilderment. Then before he could say anything else a great roar of voices rose up from the Hibernian lines followed by the blaring of a dozen Celtic war trumpets.

  "Fuck," the Legate muttered as he quickly turned to his staff officers, "Have the Hamian's prepare to shoot on my signal. If they attack we will hold them on the first rampart. Go!"

  Across the fields the Hibernians were shouting and banging their weapons against their shields and the din was growing in volume.

  "Looks like they are going to attack Sir," a Centurion from the 6th shouted as he came hurrying towards Trebonius.

  The Legate ignored the officer and turned to Corbulo and Galba.

  "I know what you are trying to do," he said angrily pointing a finger at Corbulo. "But I never told you to provoke the enemy."

  "Yes Sir," Corbulo said quickly, "but there is something else." Corbulo caught Trebonius' eye. "Elim, the High King, he's not here. The druid said that he was in the north. I find that rather odd Sir, considering that he must have known we were coming. Maybe the Hibernians are not as united as they would like us to believe. If Elim is dealing with a local rebellion then there must be friction amongst the Hibernian tribes."

  "I will deal with that and your insubordination later," Trebonius growled as the noise from the Hibernian lines grew more frantic. "Look at the fine fucking mess you have created."

  Corbulo turned to stare across the fields towards the Hibernians. The Celts were working themselves up into a rage. The ranks of Legionaries from the 6th Cohort were staring at the enemy impassively and suddenly from amongst their lines Corbulo heard a booming voice and saw a huge bear of a man, the Cohort's senior Centurion striding down the line behind his men. The officer was wearing a red plumed helmet.

  "The first man to break ranks without my permission is a dead man," the Centurion roared at his troops as he passed along behind them tapping his vine stick against his leg. "There will be no retreat from this position. The boys from the 1st Cohort behind us think that we are not up for the job. They think they are going to be needed today. Well let them play with their cocks. The 6th Cohort is going to hold the enemy, not one of those Celtic bastards is coming over our wall. We know how they like to fight boys. Don't be scared by the fierceness of their charge; it's all they’ve got. Stand up to them and they will quickly give up. They have no armour, their shields are small and their weapons are of wretched quality as for their dogs, we will eat them for supper."

  Corbulo's attention was wrenched away by Galba's sudden cry. The young Tribune was pointing at something across the fields. Out in the meadow two Hibernians were dragging something along across the slippery wet grass. Behind them, striding towards the Roman fort, with calm confident steps, came Faelan holding his wooden staff in one hand and a short gleaming scythe in the other. The druid's long white cloak fluttered in the breeze. Corbulo wiped the rain from his face as he tried to see what the two Hibernians were dragging along. Then he groaned. The Hibernians halted and in between them, forced up onto his knees was a Roman Legionary. The soldier was facing the fort and his hands were tied behind his back. Slowly Faelan came up behind him, paused, then grasped the man's hair, jerked his head backwards and swiftly slit his throat with his scythe. Even from where he was standing Corbulo could see the blood spurting from the soldier's throat. Faelan allowed the corpse to flop forwards before one of the warriors stepped forwards and decapitated the Legionary with a single blow of his axe. Amongst the small group of officers who clustered around the Legate not a word was said. The silence continued as Faelan picked up the Roman head and raised it high in the air. The gesture seemed to release the Hibernians for suddenly their bloodthirsty shouts, screams and yells reached a climax. Then they were coming, storming towards the ramparts in a great howling surging mass of grey led by their packs of war dogs.

  "Hold, wait for the order," Trebonius bellowed at the trumpeter. Along the earthen rampart the Legionaries from the 6th Cohort lifted up their spears as they awaited the enemy onslaught. Corbulo stared mesmerized at the flood of Hibernians that was surging towards them. There had to be thousands of them. The Celts were armed with swords, spears, axes and clubs but the Centurion had been right. Their small round shields of wood and hide and their body armour of stiffened hide were going to offer them little protection from what was to come.

  "Now," Trebonius said turning to his trumpeter.

  The soldier raised his trumpet to his lips and a second later a short blast reverberated across the headland. For a few moments nothing happened. Then from behind the ranks of the 6th a volley of arrows arched gracefully into the air before plunging straight into the mass of running warriors. The Hibernians were too closely packed together and their shields too small and here and there men plunged to the ground whilst others shrieked and cried out in pain. A second volley was already in the air even before the first had struck home and the arrows mercilessly slammed into the enemy ranks. Despite the carnage the Hibernian charge showed no sign of wavering. The war dogs, grey sleek beasts were the first to reach the outer ditch. Some of the animals crashed straight into it, howling and barking in their eagerness to reach the Romans, whilst others leapt across it with mighty bounds but the steep earthen rampart and sharpened wooden stakes were not easily climbed. Here and there a Legionary rose to his feet and jabbed his spear at a dog that had managed to work its way past the defences.

  Trebonius was staring at the advancing Hibernians. The foremost warriors had nearly reached the ditch. At the Legate's side the crew of the Scorpion were hastily fitting another bolt into their machi
ne as the thin line of Legionaries protecting the rampart in front of the group of officers rose to their feet and raised their spears. Corbulo could clearly see the faces of the enemy now. He was suddenly conscious that he did not have a shield.

  "Hold them, hold them!" a Roman voice screamed.

  As the Hibernians came piling down into the ditch they were greeted by a volley of spears flung down at them from the Romans on top of the rampart. At such short range it was hard to miss and the bodies of the dead and dying tumbled back onto those coming on behind. The shrieks of wounded men mingled with the barking howling dogs and the cries and screams of the Hibernians as they sought to force their way up the rampart.

  Corbulo unsheathed his sword as the fighting drew closer. Along the entire length of the rampart the surging tide of Hibernians had got stuck in the ditch. Men were trying to scramble up the steep embankment, trying to find a way through the rows of sharpened wooden stakes whilst above them the legionaries had risen to their feet and were hacking and stabbing at the enemy with their short swords and pushing them back with their large rectangular shields. Here and there a small group of Hibernians had managed to fight their way up onto the rampart but their existence was short lived as the Legionaries drove them back with their shields. The vicious hand to hand combat rippled along the rampart and the air was rent with screams and cries. Close by a Hibernian grasped hold of one of the stakes and tried to pull it from the earth. A Legionary brought his shield down on the man's hand and was rewarded by an agonising scream. Corbulo snatched a quick glance at Trebonius. The Legate had not moved and his sword was still in its scabbard. The officer was staring at the fighting with a calm calculating eye. Then he noticed Corbulo and a brief knowing look passed between the two of them.

  The 6th Cohort seemed to be holding the enemy. The ditch, rampart and sharpened stakes seemed too great an obstacle for the Hibernians. They milled about at the base of the defences, seemingly without a plan as the unrelenting hail of arrows continued to slam into their rear most ranks. The Legionaries manning the ramparts suddenly seemed to sense that victory was theirs for they started to become bolder, venturing out from behind their defences to close with the enemy.