Hibernia (Veteran of Rome Book 2)

by William Kelso

  "Tell those men to hold their positions," Trebonius cried as he caught sight of the rising confidence amongst his men.

  "Shall we order the 1st to counter attack Sir?" one of the Tribunes said hurriedly. "The enemy look like they are ready to break."

  "No, we can't afford the casualties," Trebonius barked.

  A spear suddenly embedded itself in a Centurion standing beside Trebonius and the soldier groaned as he doubled up and collapsed.

  "Get him to the rear," the Legate yelled at a pair of slaves who were crouching nearby.

  Just in front of the group of officers the line of legionaries defending the rampart suddenly seemed to fall back and as they did so a group of Hibernians squeezed past the wooden stakes and clambered up onto the rampart. With a quick practised movement Trebonius drew his sword and with a hoarse cry threw himself into the fight. Corbulo spat onto the ground and ran to join him. The Hibernians were few in number but they seemed to know what they were doing. The men stood back to back as they fended off the Roman blows and jabs. Corbulo ducked under a wild axe swing and thrust his sword into a man's unprotected belly. He was rewarded by a groan of pain as his opponent staggered backwards. Close by a Hibernian throwing axe embedded itself with a thud into the shield of a legionary. Corbulo staggered backwards in fright and as he did so he tripped over a dead dog and went tumbled onto his arse. A huge Hibernian clad entirely in black sheep skin came roaring towards him holding a spear in both hands. Corbulo's eyes bulged and desperately he tried to roll away but at the last moment a Roman sword cut the Hibernian down and the man tumbled down the rampart and into the ditch. Corbulo caught sight of Galba. The boy's sword was stained with blood. Then he was struggling back onto his feet, panting from the exertion.

  "They are fleeing, look at them run," a Roman voice suddenly cried out. Corbulo turned to stare into the fields beyond the ramparts. The Hibernians seemed indeed to have had enough and were retreating in disorder towards the forest from whence they had appeared. The Hamian's had not stopped shooting and their arrows were now slamming into the backs of the fleeing enemy sending men plunging and spinning to the ground. A victorious roar rose up from the Roman lines. Then Corbulo saw Trebonius. The legate's face was streaked with rain and mud.

  "Hold. Tell the men to hold their positions; there will be no pursuit. Let them run!" Trebonius roared as he kicked the body of a dead Hibernian down into the ditch. His orders were quickly followed by a solitary trumpet blast. Corbulo staggered to the edge of earthen embankment. Close by a Hibernian hung impaled on one of the wooden stakes and down at the base of the rampart the dead lay everywhere, filling up the ditch. A few wounded men were trying to crawl away, one of whom was trailing his entrails behind him and the groans and cries of the wounded and dying were everywhere. Corbulo was breathing rapidly as he stared at the scene. A wounded Hibernian was clawing at the earth as he tried to rise to his feet and a few paces away from him a man was clutching his throat as he slowly drowned in his own blood.

  Across the meadow in front of the fort the ground was a scene of utter devastation. Hundreds of corpses and wounded men littered the ground. The grass seemed to have been peppered with arrows. Corbulo straightened up and took a deep breath. Suddenly he became aware of someone at his side. It was Galba. The young Tribune was staring out across the fields.

  "You were right," the boy muttered, "We slaughtered them."

  "Well don't get too cocky," Corbulo replied, "These are not the High King's men. We haven't faced their main army yet and those boys won't make the same mistake as this lot did."

  "How do you know?" Galba frowned.

  "Because King Elim would not be High King if he was that stupid," Corbulo growled.

  Galba wiped the rain from his face and blew the air from his cheeks.

  "Do you believe what the druid told us," he said, "About being Queen Boudicca's son?"

  Corbulo shrugged, "Maybe, it's possible, he is of the right age."

  Corbulo turned as an Optio came hurrying up to Trebonius. "What are your orders Sir?" the soldier said. The Legate glared at the junior officer. Then he half turned to stare at the last of the Hibernians as they vanished amongst the distant trees. For a moment he was silent.

  "Have the Batavians take the place of the 6th," Trebonius snapped at last, "tell the 1st and 6th to stand down and get some rest. Tomorrow at dawn we march on Tara. I want the men to be ready to leave at dawn. Tell the Centurions that I want every unit to give me their strength reports within the hour and get the slaves to clear those bodies from my ditch."

  The Optio nodded and saluted before hurrying away.

  "Are you allright Sir," a Tribune said offering Trebonius a water skin. The Legate took a long swig and handed the skin back to the Tribune without a comment. Then his eye fell on Corbulo.

  "Quartermaster," Trebonius snapped as he glared at Corbulo, "that man over there shall no longer be entitled to his ration of wine and inform the Batavians that he will be spending the night outside the ramparts for disobeying my orders." Trebonius turned to look at the officer at his side, "Is that clear?"

  The officer glanced quickly at Corbulo and nodded. "Yes Sir, outside the ramparts. I will inform the watch that he is not to be allowed back in until dawn."

  "Just like old times," Corbulo said trying to sound cheerful.

  Trebonius was staring at him. Then the Legate sighed. "I don't know what business you and Agricola are up to," he growled, "but I will not tolerate disobedience under my command. You are lucky that I don't have you whipped in front of the men."

  From the corner of his eye Corbulo noticed another figure coming towards the small group of officers. It was Tuathal Techtmar and he looked annoyed.

  "Legate," Tuathal cried as he clambered up the rampart followed by a few of his men. "Why was I prevented from joining you? Why did you have to fight? I am the rightful High King of Hibernia; these are my people. I could have talked with them and persuaded them to join us. Now you have slaughtered them. This is madness."

  "This is my command," Trebonius said sharply as he turned to face the Hibernian. "You follow my orders. You and your men were held in reserve and your place was with your men. I did not need you."

  "But there was no need to fight," Tuathal said angrily.

  "Well blame him then," Trebonius said gesturing at Corbulo as he pushed past the Hibernian prince and down into the Roman camp, "He's the one who invited them to attack us."

  Tuathal watched the Legate as he strode away followed by his staff. Then he turned and glared at Corbulo.

  "You did what?" he exclaimed.

  Corbulo stooped to wipe his sword on the back of a dead Hibernian. Carefully he glanced up at Tuathal.

  "Galba here and I went out to speak with them," he said. "One of their leaders is a man called Finn, the other a druid called Faelan. They didn't seem to like you very much. So I invited them to come and try and kill you. Maybe they will succeed next time."

  Tuathal's face darkened and his hand shot out as he pointed a finger at Corbulo.

  "Be careful, be very careful," he hissed, "for when I am High King you are not going to get away with this insolence. You may think that I am just another ambitious Hibernian exile but I am Tuathal Techtmar, rightful king of this land and you will remember that."

  Corbulo finished cleaning his sword and carefully returned it to its scabbard.

  "You are Agricola's creature, nothing less, nothing more," he said sharply, "You think you are the High King of this land but you are just a puppet that dances to Rome's command. If you were a true king you would have been fighting on the opposite side today together with those dead men down there in the ditch."

  Tuathal's face broke out into a blush. For a moment he stared at Corbulo. Then abruptly he turned and stormed off without saying a word.

  Chapter Twenty-Two - The March on Tara

  The night was pitch black as Corbulo lay in the grass leaning on one elbow. The corpses of the slain Hibernians lay scattered
across the meadow around him and some of them were starting to stink. Corbulo could not sleep. The rain had finally stopped but the changing weather had not managed to lighten his bad mood. His situation had not been improved either by the cheerful band of Batavians up on the ramparts who had insisted on calling out his name every few minutes inquiring whether he was still alive. He had thrown a stone in their direction but the calls had not ceased. It wasn't the first time either that he had suffered this form of punishment. Many years ago during the year of the four Emperors when the loyalty of the Twentieth had been dubious he'd found himself tied to a tree and forced to spend the night outside the protective embrace of the Legionary camp. On that occasion it was the new legate of the Twentieth, Agricola who had come to his rescue. There wasn't much chance of that happening now he thought sourly.

  A sudden noise in the darkness had him reaching for his sword. Something had moved in the darkness. Carefully Corbulo rose to his feet with his sword in his hand. Had the Batavians come down to play another joke on him or had some of the Hibernians returned to retrieve their dead? He peered into the darkness from whence the sound had come. Then he heard it again. A little jingle and rattle. Someone was out there. Corbulo crouched ready to thrust his sword into whatever came for him.

  "Father," a voice whispered, "are you there? It's me Marcus."

  Corbulo rolled his eyes as he relaxed and lowered his sword.

  "I am here," he said.

  A few moments later Marcus appeared out of the gloom.

  "They told me that the Legate had ordered you to spend the night outside the fort," Marcus said with a voice that hinted at a smile. "Thought you may like to have some company."

  Corbulo sat down on the grass. "Well the dead don't make very good company so yes I am glad you are here," he said grumpily.

  Marcus chuckled and sat down. "For what it is worth my men, the Batavians think you are a hero. None of them like Tuathal and his mercenaries. Most of Tuathal's men are not even from Hibernia, they are the scum of the earth, the lot of them. Murderers, rapists, thieves, runaway slaves." Marcus paused. "Everyone has heard about how you invited the Hibernians to kill Tuathal." Marcus sighed. "There are quite a few who wish the Hibernians had succeeded for then we could abandon this expedition and go home. The man is a complete prick."

  "Well they can't," Corbulo growled, "we march on Tara at dawn or have you forgotten?"

  In the darkness Marcus was silent for a moment.

  "Trebonius is leaving most of my Cohort behind to defend the fort," Marcus said at last, "only us mounted troopers will be coming with you. The infantry is staying to fortify and defend the fort. Trebonius wants to secure his supply lines."

  "You mean he wants to secure his line of retreat," Corbulo snapped.

  Again Marcus was silent. Corbulo looked up at the sky but there was no sign of the usual stars or the moon.

  "What are you doing here father?" Marcus said quietly.

  Corbulo lowered his eyes. "Agricola ordered me to go," he said. "He wants me to find Quintus and bring him back. Quintus has a letter that belongs to Agricola, an important letter. That's my mission."

  "Yes, but why should you give a damn about Agricola and a letter? What has it to do with you? This is a dangerous expedition; you should be with Efa and Dylis. You saved those children and you got the money. You are too old to be serving in the army."

  "I know where I should be son," Corbulo said quietly, "but matters are not as simple as that."

  "Why not?" Marcus shot back.

  Corbulo sighed and scratched at his cheek.

  "It's just something that I have to do," he said wearily.

  From the darkness there was no immediate reply. Then Corbulo heard Marcus shift position.

  "Does this have anything to do with the disappearance of my woman and my son?" Marcus said quietly.

  Corbulo closed his eyes. Then he sighed.

  "No," he replied, "This is between me and Agricola."

  ***

  When dawn finally came Corbulo was standing outside the main gateway into the fort as the Legionary cavalry began to emerge. As the horsemen trotted out of the camp he snapped to attention. The riders peered at him curiously as they rode past. They were followed by the two hundred and fifty mounted Batavians and amongst them Corbulo saw Marcus. His son snapped out a quick salute as he trotted past. Corbulo watched him vanish from view across the corpse-strewn field. The next to pass him were the solid ranks of Legionaries from the 6th and 1st Cohorts, thirteen hundred and fifty men in all. The boots of the heavily armoured Legionaries reverberated on the soil. The men were singing a marching song and the gusto of their voices told Corbulo that the soldiers were in good spirits. They were followed by the two hundred Hamian archers. The Syrians were silent and tense and Corbulo noticed that their quivers were filled with arrows. The next to pass were a long column of supply wagons pulled along by oxen, horses and slaves. Some of the slaves had hitched a ride on the wagons and stared at the solitary figure curiously as he stood to attention as the column passed by. Then it was the turn of the two hundred and fifty men from the HQ Company. The part mounted Company including the solitary grey skinned elephant. As he stood to attention waiting to be relieved from his punishment he suddenly caught sight of Trebonius mounted on a horse. The Legate caught his eye and shook his head. One of the men accompanying him peeled off from the column and Corbulo saw that it was Galba. The boy was leading a second horse.

  "Here you go Sir," the boy said.

  "You don't have to call me Sir," Corbulo growled as he tried to mount the horse. The beast backed away nervously but on his second attempt he was successful.

  "If it allright with you," Galba said quietly, "I will call you Sir. A man who fought against the Barbarian Queen deserves that respect."

  "How the fuck do you know about that?" Corbulo said as he joined the column.

  "Everyone knows about you Sir," Galba said urging his horse on with a tight smile.

  ***

  Soon the sea was left behind and the Roman column began to move inland across bleak empty fields. Here and there the open gently rolling hills were interspersed with small woods and ring forts. There was however no sign of the Hibernians. Corbulo peered at a distant ring fort perched on top of a hill as the rhythmic thud of the Legionaries boots and the soldiers singing filled the cool dawn air. The gates to the fortified farm house were firmly closed and there was no sign of life. The Hibernians it seemed had fled en masse and had taken their animals with them for across the bare grassy hills he could not see a single cow, horse or sheep. He turned to look back in the direction of the headland fort but it had already vanished behind a screen of trees. Trebonius had left the bulk of the 2nd Batavian Cohort, some six hundred men, behind to strengthen and defend the newly constructed fort.

  As his eye fell on the eight hundred Hibernian and foreign mercenaries who were bringing up the rear of the column Corbulo grunted in disgust. Tuathal's men seemed to have no discipline or leadership for they were strung out in small individual disorganised groups and seemed to be lacking any kind of discipline. At their head rode Tuathal surrounded by a band of Hibernians on horseback. There was a proud look on his face.

  "When we reach Tara," Galba said as he noticed Corbulo watching Tuathal, "they will crown him High King of Hibernia. Tara is their capital, the place where they have crowned their kings for hundreds of years. Apparently there is a standing stone right in the centre of the place. The Hibernians call it the Stone of Destiny. The would be king must touch the stone and if he is the rightful heir the stone will scream and the noise will be heard in all corners of this island."

  Corbulo glanced across at Galba as the two of them rode across the muddy field.

  "It's a load of bollocks," he muttered.

  Galba shrugged. "Maybe," he replied, "But it makes a good story and I think here, in this land of eternal winter, a man needs good stories. The weather and the bleakness of this place are enough to drive a man insane."


  "It's no different to Caledonia or the land of the Brigantes," Corbulo grunted. "But you should be more concerned with the whereabouts of King Elim and his army than with fancy stories. Do you think the High King is just going to let us take Tara without a fight?"

  Galba was staring ahead at the long column of heavily armed Legionaries that was vanishing over the crest of the next hill.

  "The Legate says Tara is only twenty five miles away so we will reach it before nightfall. Trebonius has ordered a forced march. Maybe the speed of our advance will take King Elim by surprise. You said yourself that he was in the north."

  "So I did," Corbulo admitted.

  As the morning wore on Corbulo started to notice a river to the north meandering its way through the green country. Soon their progress began to slow as the column started to encounter bogs, desolate soggy looking fields of coarse heather that seemed to go on and on. Tuathal's Hibernian scouts however kept the column from losing its way and there was a constant coming and going as the riders and scouts reported back to Trebonius and his staff. Corbulo, riding just behind the Legate, was in a good position to hear their reports and the news the riders brought was promising. There had been no sightings of Elim's army.

  It was noon with a fresh westerly breeze blowing into his face when Corbulo suddenly saw Classicus, the Procurator riding towards him. The Finance Minister was accompanied by a Turma of thirty mounted Praetorians. It had been the first time he'd seen the Procurator since they had bumped into each other on the ship and Corbulo's heart sank and he groaned. Classicus gave Corbulo a hard, cold glance as he came up and slowed his horse to a walk.

  "And so we meet again," the Procurator exclaimed, "I can't seem to get rid of you, Corbulo. Everywhere I go, I seem to run into you."