Legionary

by Hector Miller

  It was a statement, but I recognized the question within and I said: “Centurion, I spent a long time with warriors who are more akin to animals than to civilised men. They have taught me their skills.”

  He nodded and said: “Lead the way legionary.”

  I replied: “Follow fifty paces behind. When I hold up my hand, go to ground immediately.”

  Chapter 8 - Trap

  By afternoon we were fortunate to stumble upon a rocky hill densely populated with ancient oak trees. It was snowing so we decided to risk a fire. Against my better judgement I ventured from our campsite with my bow and was rewarded with four fat pheasants.

  Hostilius had managed to get a fire going while I prepared the birds. I cut the necessary rigging from the branches of a huge oak tree we used for shelter.

  We had scouted the area in the vicinity and there were no signs of any enemy scouts.

  The oak kept most of the snow away and we had a rocky outcrop upwind from us. It was still bitterly cold but the shelter and the prospect of warm food made it bearable.

  I rigged the birds to roast next to the fire. Hostilius said: “I do not recognise the barbarians who attacked us this morning. They look different from the Yazyges.”

  I turned the pheasants and said: “I know them well enough. They were Goths. The Goths are a numerous people who are invading the lands of the Scythians. They are being pushed west by nomads who live to the east of their lands. The only option for them is to encroach upon Rome. They are subduing the Scythians and the cultures are merging.”

  “The Goths are hungry for new lands and plunder. This is but the start. They are a scheming race of people who would not blink an eye to deceive.”

  Hostilius grinned and said: “They sound very Roman to me.”

  I replied: “You are not wrong. The simultaneous attack on the two forts is a plan. A deception.”

  We did not keep the fire going throughout the night, but took turns to sleep.

  We were well fed and rested when we moved on the next morning.

  We still had a lot of ground to cover to get to the fort at Annamatia, so we travelled as fast as caution allowed. We kept away from the Roman roads to avoid detection and walked through shrubs and forested areas for extra cover. Our destination was still five miles distant when we exited a particularly dense area and stumbled upon the bodies.

  Close to the Roman road we found the remains of what was twenty legionary cavalrymen.

  Some bodies had wounds caused by heavy barbarian spears and others were riddled with arrows. All the weapons, clothing, horses and saddles were taken by the enemy. The Romans were surely led into a trap.

  We had not the time or manpower to bury the bodies, but we marked the spot in our minds so that they could be taken care of at a later stage.

  It was too risky to approach the fort during daylight, but we had to find out whether it had been taken.

  Hostilius and I could approach to within a mile using the vegetation as cover. We sat down and enjoyed the leftover pheasant with hard cheese and olives while we waited for darkness to descend.

  As soon as it was dark enough we crept closer to the fort to investigate. Campfires were burning outside the gate and I could hear loud chatter in Scythian and Germanic. Although it was dark, the gates of the fort were wide open. It had been overrun by the Gothic alliance.

  I motioned to Hostilius to remain where he was. I slowly crept closer. The fort was still intact and I could see no evidence of fire damage. There were no sentries and I could sneak up close enough to be able to eavesdrop on the conversations around the fires.

  I lay in hiding, listening for close to a watch. When I had heard enough I made my way back to the centurion.

  I told him what I had overheard. “The barbarians had lit a huge fire in the vicinity of the fort to draw in our cavalry scouts. They were waiting for them in ambush and killed them with overwhelming numbers. It was an easy victory. They stripped the corpses of their gear and clothing and took the horses. The barbarians shaved their beards and donned the clothing of the Romans and conned their way into the fort. As soon as the gates were open, they poured into the fort and massacred the auxiliaries. Food, gear and weapons were looted. They sing the praises of their high lord, a Gothic war leader by the name of Argunt.”

  “Did they mention anything about their plans?”

  “It seems that Argunt does not like to share his plans. I believe they do not know, else they would have spoken about it. They were deep into their cups.”

  We slowly moved through the undergrowth until we were at least two miles from the fort. The night was bitterly cold without a fire, but our fur cloaks made it bearable.

  From experience, I knew that I had to sleep with the cheese and dried meat inside my cloak. I had to share mine with Hostilius the next morning because his had frozen solid.

  As soon as it was light enough to travel we headed off with haste in the direction of our camp.

  The remainder of our trip passed without incident and we arrived at the main camp late in the afternoon. We reported to the head tribune, who took us to the commander of the army to report in person. The emperor was firstly a soldier. He had enough experience to know that a direct report was worth more than one filtered by another officer.

  We were ushered into the emperor’s tent and we both came to attention and saluted.

  “Speak, Centurion”, he said.

  Hostilius relayed the main points of the scouting mission.

  He did not comment, but dismissed us with a wave of his hand. Just before we left the tent he called out to Hostillius: “Centurion, did he save your life?”

  Hostilius turned around, inclined his head in respect and said: “Your prediction was correct, Emperor, he did indeed.”

  Chapter 9 – Back on a horse

  The emperor was a soldier. Soldiers are not inclined to sit around, they act.

  He acted immediately and decisively. We marched the following morning at first light.

  We crossed the frozen river at Lussonium, close to the temporary camp. It had stopped snowing and the sky was clear. It was nearly as cold as in the land of the Huns. We marched at a reasonable pace and at midday the river was ten miles behind us. The emperor had only taken two legions. Legio II Adiutrix had been left at our marching camp at Lussonium. They would patrol the countryside between Alta Ripa to the south and Annamatia to the north, ridding the Roman lands of any of the enemy who were still left on the southern bank of the Danube.

  We were waiting for the engineers to stake out the perimeter of the camp when I was summoned by Hostilius. “Domitius!” was all he said and I knew what it meant.

  The emperor was busy with whatever emperors did, so Hostilius took us to the man who was second in charge of the legion, the Tribunus Laticlavius. Normally the position would be given to a young patrician as a first step towards political advancement. The Thracian had abruptly inserted his own man, a grizzled veteran of countless campaigns. The position had become vacant when the previous tribune left for Rome in a hurry following the assassination of Alexander Severus and his mother.

  In any event, Cornelius Carbo was a man of much experience and few words. We came to attention and saluted.

  “At ease.”

  His eyes drifted over me and he asked Hostilius: “Centurion. Do you ride well?”

  Hostilius was a younger version of Carbo and he replied: “I ride, but not well.”

  He kept his gaze on Hostilius and said to his Greek secretary. “Pericles, bring me the young equestrian cavalry tribune.”

  He walked to his desk studying some maps of the area, leaving us standing awkwardly.

  Pericles returned with a cavalryman in tow. None other than my friend, Marcus.

  Hostilius and I both saluted.

  Carbo looked at me and said: “Have you met Tribune Marcus Aurelius Claudius?”

  “Yes Tribune”, I replied.

  “Good. You will draw the necessary supplies and equipment an
d leave tonight.”

  “Centurion, you are dismissed.”

  “Domitius, collect your gear and return here.”

  I collected my gear and my bow from the contubernium’s dedicated pack mule. Hostilius had reluctantly agreed to transport our scouting gear on the animal.

  A short while later I was waiting outside the tent for Marcus to appear. I could hear that he was still being briefed by the senior tribune, although I could not discern what they were saying.

  He made his appearance and said: “Let’s get you a horse, legionary. Follow me.”

  “This is an important mission for the emperor. He wants us to have good horses”, he said as we walked towards the area where the personal horses of the emperor were kept.

  I could obviously not take the emperor’s own mount but I selected a horse for endurance and camouflage. A magnificent gelding. Light brown with a dark marking between the eyes. I had a brief discussion with the emperor’s groomsman to ensure I had made the right choice. He gave me a saddle on loan. I followed Marcus to where the cavalry’s horses were kept.

  When the darkness provided us with sufficient cover we left camp. First travelling two miles in the direction from which we had come to confuse any enemy scouts who might be watching us.

  The moon was hidden by clouds and it was pitch black. We left the track and entered the forest where we found a suitable spot to spend the night.

  We were unable to scout the area so we spoke little. Only a fool would risk discovery by the enemy just for the sake of idle chatter. We ate dried venison and cheese. Marcus even produced a skin of half decent red wine.

  As was the norm, we took turns in sleeping. The night was mild, probably due to the cover provided by the forest. My cheese and bread slept with me inside the cloak and after an adequate breakfast we left to do the emperor’s bidding.

  The countryside close to the Danube was heavily forested, but slowly gave way to patches of forest interspersed with grassland. It was winter and the trees were devout of leaves, providing less cover than in summer.

  We walked the horses in silence, with Marcus leading the way. A quarter of a watch had passed when we stopped in a small deserted ravine. As we had scouted the area prior to dismounting, we could converse in low tones for the first time.

  Marcus asked me: “Are you as good at scouting as you are with a bow?”

  “Yes”, I replied truthfully, grinned and added “sir” for effect.

  He grinned and said: “Don’t be ridiculous Lucius. You obviously have to call me sir when we are with the army, but if you ever call me sir again when we are in private, I will arrange a flogging for you when we get back to camp.” He punched my arm to emphasize the jest.

  He continued: “My grandfather on my mother’s side was a senator. My father is an equestrian. When I met your father, Nik, he reminded me a lot of my grandfather. I am not blind. I can see that he is a noble and that you are at least of the equestrian class, like I am. Why did you not join the army as a cavalry officer? By the gods, man, if your seniors could see you ride a horse, you would be a decurion!”

  “You have no shortage of coins either. Even if I am wrong regarding your lineage, you could surely buy yourself an officer’s position?”

  I decided to be truthful, which must have been my Roxolani heritage.

  “Marcus, my friend, you are correct. My father is a noble, but my mother was a Scythian. My father does not wish to advertise his lineage. But even if things were different, I would still have joined the legions as a ranker. War is in my blood, Marcus. I desire to see war from the view of the common soldier. I wish to be in the thick of the fight. But more so, I follow the god of war and I will follow my destiny. If it is meant to be, there may come a time when I will join you in the cavalry. If not, I will spend my whole career as a legionary.”

  He smiled his infectious smile and said: “You have not even been in the army for six months and already you have become the emperor’s favourite. I will bet my last sesterces that you will be promoted before the year is done.”

  “Lead on, legionary. Although I am a tribune, we both know who the better scout is.”

  The Huns know how to scout the sea of grass. It is critical to keep to the low lying areas. Use the streams and ravines and when exposed, move slowly and stay flat on the back of the horse. The Hun scouts even teach their horses to lie down flat when commanded. Our horses would not be that well trained.

  We were watering our horses in a deep ravine when I heard the sound of men laughing. I immediately muzzled my horse with my hand and gestured to Marcus to do the same. Horses tend to whinny when they become aware of the presence of their own kind. Once I was satisfied that the horses where calm, I crept up the side of the ravine to investigate. Fifty paces yonder two Yazyges warriors were slowly riding their horses in the direction of the ravine.

  I scrambled back down the slope. We had the clarity of mind to walk our horses in the small stream that meandered through the ravine and consequently we left no tracks. Marcus and I hastily double backed the way we came and circled the ravine.

  Nearby we found cover in the form of a copse overgrown with dense shrubs.

  “We could have easily killed those scouts, Marcus, but that could have alerted the enemy of our presence.”

  “Yes Lucius, the emperor has a plan, but he needs us to scout the area without rousing suspicion. He realises that the Gothic alliance is trying to eliminate our cavalry and attack the legions when they are robbed of their eyes and ears. The Goths know that the legions use the cavalry as scouts. The emperor plans on using our cavalry as bait to lure the Goths into the grasp of the heavy infantry. Then the iron fist of the legions will smash them.”

  “We also need to identify the best spot for the legions to ambush the Goths, once we have located their camp.”

  We decided that we would wait until dark. The presence of the enemy scouts indicated that their camp was not far off and detection would have spelled disaster for our plans.

  Late in the afternoon we spied the Yazyges scouts returning the way they came. They were still riding leisurely and conversing loudly, clearly unconcerned about the possible presence of the Romans. We let them pass and followed them on foot. The mounted scouts outpaced us but that was of no concern, as long as we could locate their camp.

  It was dark when we crested yet another hill. We did not have to crawl over the hill because the darkness provided enough cover. Marcus was leading when he came to an abrupt stop. I nearly walked into him. Spread out in the valley below us were thousands of camp fires. We had located the enemy camp. I had seen the camps of the steppe nomad armies and estimated it at about fifteen thousand warriors, but it was impossible to be certain. My guess was that half would be Yazyges cavalry with the rest Gothic heavy infantry.

  We could not afford the luxury to wait until first light to make a more accurate estimation. Marcus and I jogged to where we had left the horses and headed for the ravine which we visited earlier in the day. It was close to midnight and after a quick meal of cheese and stale bread, we took turns to sleep.

  I had the last watch and as soon as the night made way to the pre-dawn light, I woke Marcus. We rode, munching on hard cheese. We had passed a couple of suitable areas for an ambush site the previous day, and now we inspected them in more detail, discussing the benefits of each one.

  We eventually decided on a narrow valley, two hundred paces across. The sides of the valley were accessible to infantry, but it was strewn with rocks and gravel, which made it nearly impossible for cavalry to breach.

  We rode with caution for the next watch, but once we were miles away from the enemy, we picked up the pace and made it back to camp with half a watch of sunlight to spare.

  I safely delivered the emperor’s horse to the groomsman and Marcus went to make his report to Cornelius Carbo.

  When the horse was in good hands, I immediately reported to Hostilius. His clerk ushered me in without delay.

  I came to
attention and saluted as I entered his office. “At ease, Domitius.”

  I told him of the scouting mission, the proposed ambush and the location of the enemy camp.

  He listened intently, turned around and produced an amphora of red.

  “Now go. Tomorrow will be bloody”, was all he said as he handed me the wine.

  Chapter 10 – Battle

  My contubernium displayed more interest in the amphora of wine than my recent whereabouts. Little did I know that their lack of curiosity was not rooted in ignorance.

  Ursa filled his beaker for the second time and smacked his lips as he swallowed the un-watered wine. “This is real good stuff. You must have done something right to get this from old stone face.”

  He took another huge gulp and said: “Do you know by what name they call you in the legion?”

  Now they had my attention. I did not even know that apart from my century, anybody else in the legion knew of my existence.

  Ursa refilled his cup and continued: “They call you ‘Umbra’, the ghost.”

  Felix noticed my surprise and he explained: “There are three things that keeps a Roman legion going, Umbra. Gold, wine and gossip. Anything you do is public knowledge. Tent flaps do not block out sounds, heh?”

  Pumilio smiled and said: “Tell us about the scouting, else we have to hear the story from the emperor’s scribe’s second cousin on his mother’s side who is also the wife of Hostilius’s secretary.”

  I grinned, defeated, and continued: “We found the enemy camp. I guess their numbers to be fifteen thousand. Probably half infantry, half cavalry. The emperor is planning on ambushing their cavalry.”

  Bellus smiled his perfect smile and said: “I hate the bastards with the arrows. An arrow wound leaves a nasty scar.”

  Pumilio replied: “Then you’d better stand next to Ursa. He is too big a target to miss. His shield only covers half of his fat body.”

  “Sure, Pumilio, sure. Have you had time to requisition a smaller shield so you can see over the rim when you stand on your toes?”