[Gaius Valerius Verrens 06] - Scourge of Rome (21 page)

Paternus had wanted to bring the rearguard across from the island against the enemy flank when the main attack struck. Valerius agreed the suggestion had merit. Another surprise blow might be enough to turn a battle teetering on a knife edge into an overwhelming victory. But if the attack failed and Gaulan’s men were dead and scattered it would leave the baggage train – and Tabitha – at the mercy of the Judaeans. Valerius doubted much mercy would be forthcoming. So he’d told Paternus he must hold his position. As a precaution, two of Gaulan’s men would ignore the fighting and ride directly for the causeway and the road to Caesarea Philippi. If the worst happened, reinforcements would arrive by noon the following day in time to drive the victorious Judaeans away and rescue the survivors.

But that was in the future. The skiff finally reached the stand of reeds near the shore and now the packed stems were trying to tear him from the little craft. He heard the men in the water mutter muffled curses and hissed for quiet. Trying not to make a sound he used his free arm and feet to help propel him to the bank. Agonizing seconds passed until he felt one foot touch bottom and the slight crunch as the skiff hit shore. In complete silence the men on board the boats hauled the others aboard. They dried themselves off and threw on tunics and robes that had been stowed during the voyage. Serpentius helped Valerius strap on his sword and dagger and the Roman stepped ashore calling softly for the men to gather around him.

He waited till they were close enough to hear his hoarse whisper. ‘I will lead. We take it slowly and make no noise until we’re sure we’re among them. If we’re challenged, hold the guard’s attention until Serpentius can deal with him. Once we see the fires we split up into fours as we agreed. One man to snatch a brand and burn the nearest hut. Kill everything that gets in your way: they will give you no mercy if the reverse is true.’ After much thought, Valerius had decided that the burning huts might not be enough of a signal, hidden among the trees as they were. To make sure, he’d delegated one archer to loose a fire arrow when they had the enemy’s attention. ‘When you see the arrow, remember to knot the white cloth round your right shoulder, otherwise you’re as likely to be killed by a friend as an enemy. Now, follow me.’

He led the way through the threatening darkness, keeping to the fringe of the forest and guided by the lights of the watchfires to his right. The clothes he wore had been taken from a dead Judaean and his nose wrinkled with the stink of another man’s sweat and dried blood. He took his time, placing his feet carefully and feeling for any twigs or branches that might snap and give away his position to an alert guard.

It was unnaturally quiet. There should have been night sounds. The shriek of a hunting owl. The bark of a fox. Nothing. His ears strained for the faraway cry that would signal that Gaulan and his men had been detected, but all he could hear was the faint crackle from the fires, the soft rush of waves on the shore and the laboured, nervous breathing of the men ranged close by. Like him they would be gripping and regripping their sword hilts. Like him their hearts would be thundering in their chests fit to burst out. They were so close now they could smell the latrine stink of the scattered shit pits that were the mark of every gathering of ill-disciplined barbarians. In the darkness every shadowy bush and tree appeared as an enemy waiting to pounce, his stillness a testament to his skills.

Where were the guards? Valerius’s mind screamed at him that it was a trap and to get out while they could. They must have been seen as they entered the reeds and the enemy was allowing them deeper and deeper into his territory. Serpentius was closest to him and he could sense a similar confusion in the Spaniard. With every step he expected to hear a triumphant shriek and the rush from the shadows that would herald their deaths. But it didn’t come. Instead, they came level with the watchfires, still apparently unseen.

He turned to Serpentius. The former gladiator’s eyes glittered in the firelight and Valerius shrugged in answer to the unspoken question in them. They’d come this far … Gaulan’s men would be landing now, or forming up. He nodded and ran for the nearest fire, followed by four others. In the glaring light from the fires his back tensed for the strike of a spear, but suddenly he could feel the heat of the flames on his face. He picked up the unburned end of a brand out of the glowing coals and sprinted with it to the forest. Where was it? There! Just a large heap of twigs and leaves, a rebel shelter capable of holding four or five men. As his companions screamed to draw attention and hunted potential victims through the trees he thrust the brand into the twigs and waited until the material caught. In the darkness around him other shelters took light and flared up in explosions of fire and sparks. He ran through the smoke to a second shelter, leaving the others to deal with the occupants of the first. Where were the screams and the shouts of panic? Where was the opposition? He stumbled to a dazed halt as he realized it was all pointless.

The Judaeans were gone.

Valerius ordered one section of men to check the ground towards the causeway for any sign of stragglers or a surprise attack. Perhaps the rebels had been warned of Gaulan’s presence and moved out to meet him, but he didn’t think so. They would have left their women behind with their baggage. Here there was nothing but the detritus of an abandoned camp. He called the signaller bowman to his side and held out the glowing brand of the torch. The archer placed an arrow wound with pitch-soaked cloth against it until it lit. The moment the flame appeared the man drew back his bow and loosed so the fire arrow arced into the night before falling with a sharp hiss just off shore.

‘Now loose another.’ Valerius hoped that Gaulan would realize the second arrow signified a change in circumstances and would make him wary enough to rein in the headlong charge they’d planned. As the second arrow sailed skywards he called the men together and led them down to the shoreline, where the watchfires were beginning to burn down. ‘Throw more wood on the fires and make sure your white cloths show clearly,’ he ordered. ‘No point in dying now.’

He sat on the trampled ground and stared out to where the faint outline of the island could be seen against the first hint of dawn. Tabitha would be watching the shore and wondering why she didn’t hear the noise of men fighting for their lives. Would she think he was dead? He wished he had some way of sending a message to her.

The sound of muted thunder reverberating in the distance interrupted his thoughts. Not a charge, Gaulan wouldn’t cut them loose until they could see their enemy, but hundreds of hooves approaching at the canter. Valerius motioned the others to stay where they were by the fires and stood up. The thunder came closer and the sound intensified until it seemed to shake the air and the very ground beneath his feet. A grey mass appeared, approaching at speed in the faint gilded light of the new dawn, rapidly transforming into individual groups of horses and men. Valerius could see the pennant of Gaulan’s Chalcideans at their head. He stepped out into the open space between the shore and the trees.

If Gaulan saw the man standing in his way there was no slackening of the pace. Valerius felt as if the wall of horsemen were about to charge right over him. A blast from a trumpet finally saw the speed slacken as the leading troopers reined in their horses less than ten paces away. Gaulan stared impassively from beneath his pot helmet, his signaller and his standard-bearer curbing their excited horses by his side.

‘It seems you have won this battle on your own, Gaius Valerius Verrens.’

‘Alas, there was no battle,’ Valerius said. ‘Your fame preceded you and the rebels fled at the first hint of your coming.’

The two men grinned at each other for a long moment, before Gaulan sobered. ‘Why would they leave when they had us trapped? You were wrong about the west shore. It had been well fortified. If they’d stayed they would have slaughtered us.’

‘Then let us be thankful they didn’t. As to the why, I think we will find out soon enough. But first let us send out pickets to guard the road while Paternus brings the baggage ashore.’

They discussed their next move while a message was sent out to the island. Gaulan surprised Valerius by suggesting they retire to Caesarea Philippi and wait until the situation became clearer. ‘We can replace our supplies and get the latest news on Titus’s whereabouts. Two or three days will make no difference now. Yes,’ he answered the question in Valerius’s eyes, ‘all this has made me cautious, perhaps overly so. But these Judaeans are more numerous and cunning than I had been led to believe. We could have been wiped out.’

His view was borne out when it became light enough to count the Judaean huts. There were at least five hundred of them and signs of many more men sleeping out in the open. They’d been facing twice as many rebels as they’d estimated. Even if things had worked exactly to plan Valerius knew he’d have been fortunate if a quarter of the Emesan and Chalcidean force had survived. Despite that, he argued against any retreat. The rebels had given them a chance and they should take it, working their way south as swiftly as they could and resupplying at cities loyal to Rome.

As it turned out, the decision was made for them.

Tabitha and Claudius Paternus had just reached the shore at the head of the baggage train when one of Gaulan’s scouts galloped in from the causeway. Before he could pass on his message Valerius heard a blare of trumpets that made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. He glanced at Paternus and the scarred tribune smiled.

‘A
cornu
,’ he confirmed, referring to the curved trumpet used by legionary signallers.

‘A legionary column marching down the road from Caesaria Philippi,’ the rider blurted to Gaulan.

Valerius smiled at the Chalcidean. ‘Then let us go to meet them.’

But if Gaulan’s men and the Emesan archers were going to meet a column of Roman legionaries their commanders were determined they’d be dressed like soldiers. They’d been forced to leave their protective mail behind on the island when they’d swum their horses to the gathering point for the attack. Now they had to wait until it was unpacked from the camels.

In the meantime, Valerius exchanged his bloodstained robe for a fresh tunic before riding out to meet the Roman column with Tabitha and Paternus, now resplendent in the uniform and armour of a
tribunus laticlavius
.

By the time they reached the causeway the legionary detachment’s commander was already in conversation with the horsemen Gaulan had sent to guard the road. The Chalcideans looked none too happy, surrounded as they were by twenty or thirty of the legion’s own cavalry. The questioner was a compact, stocky man wearing a legate’s sash and gilded armour, which meant they were dealing with a full legion, or the better part of one. That surprised Valerius, but not so much as the man’s identity.

One of the general’s aides alerted him to the arrival of the newcomers, and he broke away with his escort from the little knot of men. He was naturally drawn to the figure in the tribune’s armour, but Valerius met his eyes and saw a hint of recognition that lasted all of a heartbeat.

Paternus rapped his fist against his breastplate in salute and gave his particulars and his orders to join Titus. He introduced Tabitha as a member of the Emesan royal family, but curiously didn’t mention Valerius by name, only as ‘a Roman citizen travelling with our column’. Valerius bowed his head and the legate acknowledged it with a tight smile before turning back to Paternus. ‘Aulus Larcius Lepidus, commanding Tenth Fretensis, and you are a welcome sight, tribune, for I am short of senior officers. It may be that I have work for you if you are willing. We both have the same destination, after all.’

Paternus said he would be delighted, though the part of his face Valerius could see didn’t mirror the sentiment.

‘These men,’ Lepidus indicated the Chalcidean horse soldiers, ‘have been telling me something of your predicament and it corresponds with our own experience. The Emperor cleared this area of rebels, but like rats they have a habit of wriggling their way back if you don’t keep killing them. They were able to build up their strength during the troubles with Vitellius. The Tenth has been given the job of destroying them once and for all.’ He removed his helmet and wiped sweat from his forehead before replacing it. ‘We were clearing the mountains around Caesarea Philippi when we heard of a force blocking the road by the lake. You must have been a day ahead of us. We destroyed one of their bands last night and my spies told of a larger one camped in this area, though for what purpose they could not say. It was my intention to attack them at first light, but,’ he gave a weary shrug, ‘I see they are already gone.’

A bearded man dressed in voluminous eastern robes rode up to join the general. Tall in the saddle, his aristocratic features and air of careworn nobility reminded Valerius of a man he had once seen die on a cross. Flecks of grey speckled his beard and the immaculately styled curls of his dark hair, but he couldn’t have been more than forty years old. Valerius sensed Tabitha tense as penetrating brown eyes swept over them. When he glanced down her knuckles were white with the fierceness of her grip on the reins.

‘My adviser on Judaean matters,’ Lepidus introduced the newcomer with a hint of mockery. ‘His given name is Joseph Ben Mahtityahu, but since the Emperor took the misguided decision not to cut his throat he’s taken to calling himself Josephus, which is easier on us all. Josephus can smell a rebel from twenty miles, can’t you, Josephus?’

‘You honour me, lord legate,’ the Judaean bowed low in the saddle and his tone matched the legionary commander’s, ‘but I fear you exaggerate my powers. There is no magic or sorcery involved. Long acquaintance with these rogues has given me an insight into their ways.’

‘Long acquaintance indeed.’ Lepidus’s eyes fixed on the other man and Valerius noticed that there was no love there. ‘We suspect Josephus was one of the instigators of the rebellion. He may even have been the man who planned the ambush that took the Twelfth’s eagle, though he’s understandably reluctant to claim any credit for it. Long enough certainly to become a general in their army, who commanded this entire area. Is that not so, Josephus?’