Hosker, G [Sword of Cartimandua 00.5] Ulpius Felix- Warrior of Rome (6 page)

The Prefect pointed at the Pannonians.  “These are recruits.  They are not even trained yet.  It is impossible for them to attack a hill fort.”

The Spanish Prefect smiled, “We would not dream of asking you to assault the hill.  That is the job of my men but the Marcomanni have horses and when we attacked yesterday they used their horses to escape to the oppidum.  If you place your men to the north of the oppidum then you will close the door on their avenue of escape. You will only need two hundred men.”

Marius was not convinced but the Prefect suddenly became serious.  “If it is easier then I can give you a written order.”

“In that case we will but I will need one of your men as liaison.”

“I will send one to you and he will give you your written orders and your instructions.”

Flavius watched the Prefect returning and saw the disturbed look on his face, even from forty paces away. “Problem sir?”

“It looks like we may have to put some of the men into action sooner rather than later. Decurion Murgus! Decurion Vatia!” The two officers galloped up. “Decurion Vatia, take charge of the ala.  Make a camp this side of the fort.  Decurion Murgus, Bellatoris, have your men give their spare equipment to the other turmae. We are going to fight the Marcomanni.”

“But sir, the men are only half trained and we haven’t see them fight.”

“I know Aulus but we have been given orders.” He pointed up the valley.  “There is an oppidum there with Marcomanni in it. The Spanish cohort will attack the hill and our job is to stop them escaping with the grain wagons.”

The two officers both knew the impossibility of their task but both had been in the army long enough to know that orders were followed no matter how ridiculous. The liaison officer galloped up.  “Here are your orders, sir.” Proculus inclined his head.  “Oh you are to take your men along the road and station them eight hundred paces from the north wall of the oppidum, sir.”

“Thank you optio, my mind reading act needs work these days. Flavius I’ll lead with your turma.  Aulus bring up the rear and watch our arse.” He nodded in the direction of Wolf.  “We might just get the chance to use that wonderful standard of yours.”

Wolf heard it and swelled with pride.  He changed the standard to his left hand and slid the sword in and out of its scabbard.  He had not had time to practise fighting one handed, it looked like he would soon find out how to do it the hard way.

The road they rode along was not Roman made but was a worn and dusty track.  They could see it had been churned up by hooves. The cohort of Spanish Auxiliaries was up ahead, tramping along the road.  As they past them Wolf could not help but admire their armour.  He suddenly felt naked in his leather jerking and old helmet. The Spanish Prefect pointed up to the oppidum as they rode next to him and then pointed up the road.  “With luck Prefect your men will not be needed.”

Wolf turned in his saddle to watch the auxiliaries turn on command and begin to make their way up to the oppidum. “Head forward Wolf.  Nothing to see there.” Wolf’s head snapped around, how had the Decurion known what he was doing? He risked a furtive sidelong glance at the oppidum.  It looked impregnable; the sides were steep, there were two towers and a ditch.  The Spanish would be slaughtered!

“Here sir.”

“Thank you optio. Halt! First turma turn right. Decurion Murgus take your turma to our left.”

The two turmae formed an oblique line with their left flank resting close to the woods and their right flank half way across the road. The only escape possible for the Germans was either through the woods, in which case they would lose their wagons or back to the fort. Marius was gambling they would lose the wagons rather than risk their lives. They had a grandstand view as the Spanish Cohort lumbered up the hill.  The straight line occasionally halted and when it moved on Wolf could see the red splotch which marked the place a soldier had fallen.  As the lines progressed up the hill the blotches became more frequent. To the recruits it seemed impossible that the infantry could reach the top and there was no way that they could take it and then suddenly they were at the gates and a cluster of men gathered around the entrance to the fort. They had hardly been there for more than a couple of heartbeats when the side gate opened and the Marcomanni and their wagons erupted through the gate. The infantry reacted quickly.  While the cluster of men at the oppidum continued to break it down the rest double timed it to the other gate and began hurling their javelins. A good javelin thrower himself Wolf was impressed by the casualties that they inflicted. 

His role as an observer was ended by the Prefect’s command. “Prepare javelins and stand firm.” The order was repeated by Flavius and Murgus.

Wolf could see the wagons and the fifty riders making like an arrow for the road.  They were heading directly for him. Cava was next to him.  “I would take your sword out son, you might need it!”

Wolf blushed when he realised he had forgotten to arm himself.  He took it out and waited for the heavy horde of horsemen to hit their line.  If he had been at home in the same situation he would have turned and attacked the enemy from the side but the Prefect sat astride his horse patiently waiting. When the first enemy was forty paces away he ordered, “First twenty troopers, loose.”  Flavius yelled the order in Pannonian to make sure they all understood. The ragged volley, plus a couple of others thrown by excited troopers flew through the air.  Not all struck but, hitting the horses as they did, they made the first two wagons crash and hit two of the riders.  “Turma, loose!” The rest of the line threw their javelins and even more men fell.  To his horror Wolf saw a wedge of warriors making straight for him. He could not know that they were heading for the two officers who, with Cava were either side of him. Cava and Flavius engaged one man each while the Prefect fought two.  The last of them raised his axe to hack down on Wolf.  Instinctively he nudged his horse to the left and blocked the blow with his sword.  His arm felt as though it had been struck by an iron bar. He saw the axe go back and he kicked the horse forward thrusting with his sword as he did so.  Even as the blade went into the throat of the screaming warrior Wolf caught a movement out of the corner of his eye.  Another German was heading for him.  He aimed the head of the standard at the charging warrior and was amazed when he rode directly into the heavy wooden Wolf.

Prefect Proculus looked down the line and could see that the men had not broken and the Germans had turned into the exultant Spanish who fell upon them and slaughtered them where they stood. The Prefect left the line and rode forwards with Flavius.  “Well done Pannonians you have your first victory.”The two turmae cheered madly, “Chosen man Cava, check the casualties.” He looked wryly at Wolf, “And signifier, check your improvised spear and see what damage has been caused.”

Gerjen and the rest of his friends gathered around.  “You did it Wolf.  You killed your first warrior.”

“I thought he was going to gut you.”

“So did I Panyvadi. So did I.”

As they rode back to the fort they saw the crosses being erected and the few survivors being crucified. Cava asked the Decurion, “I thought they would have been sold as slaves?”

“No Cava.  This is more effective.  It warns others not to risk the wrath of Rome.  When we fight the Chauci we will capture slaves and sell them but this is a small scale battle on the frontier and the Prefect wants to save his men’s lives not make them rich.” He dropped back and rode next to Wolf.  That was bravely done Wolf.  It takes courage to stand like that armed with just a sword.  I think we shall see if you can be the first to get some mail, it looks like you will need it.”

The Turma was elated with their success.  A couple of men had been wounded but no one had died and they had defeated their hated enemy. Wolf took the ribbing from his friends in good part and he had learned that he was not being mocked.  The Wolf standard had not been damaged but its carrier was determined to make it more robust when they next found a smith; he wanted Gerjen to put metal bands around the top to protect it and a spike on the end. Panyvadi laughed, “What? Are you going to make a lance?”

“Until I learn how to fight without the shields which you will all have then I need to protect myself as much as possible.”

Darvas shook his head, “We have no shields.”

Gerjen leapt to his friend’s defence, “But we can move position he has to stay near to the Decurion with the standard and we need to protect him. Let us take an oath on the standard.”

The boys who had joined with him and whom he had led gathered around the standard and all placed their hands upon it.  Panyvadi was the thoughtful one and, as they all looked at each other he began to speak quietly, “I swear to protect this standard and my friend Wolf with my life.” The rest nodded eagerly and each one repeated it.

Wolf was touched, more than his friends could know.  He had led them before but not really understood them or even, Gerjen apart, liked them.  Now that he was no longer their leader he saw a different side to them and their friendship had become more precious.

“If it isn’t the Roman officer’s bum boy and his arse lickers!”

Wolf and the others leapt to their feet angrily.  It was Sura and some of the other new men who had joined the turma. “Take that back or feel my blade!”

Sura laughed contemptuously.  “Why should I fear a boy who cannot even take the head of a warrior he managed to kill,” he turned to his cronies and spread his hands, “how I will never know.” He turned back, all humour gone.  “Any time you fancy your chances boy and I will be ready.”

Before Wolf could reply Horse’s voice came out of the dark.  “If you don’t get back to your tent you will have to face me, Sura, and I am no boy.”

The scarred man stormed off with his men.  Cava walked up to Wolf. “I could have handled him Horse.  I am the standard bearer and I need no protection.”

The huge warrior known as Horse put his arm around Wolf’s shoulders.  “All of us need protection Wolf but Sura is a particularly bad man.  Keep away from him.  He will get himself into trouble soon enough. Now get some sleep.  We climb the mountains tomorrow and that will be hard work.”

Mollified Wolf and his friends went into their tent.  Cava looked at the backs of the departing Sura.  He wondered whether he ought to mention it to the Roman officer.  He enjoyed being the chosen man but he did not know the boundaries of the post. Was he above the men or one of the men?  He had never been a chief but he had led men in wars.  There you took command because men followed you here, in this Roman army, it seemed you were selected.  It would take some getting used to.

When they completed the next leg of their journey there was a spring in the step of the men of the two turmae which had fought. The Prefect noticed that even the sour faced Murgus had the hint of a smile upon his face and did not appear quite so bad tempered.  Marius had been pleased with the performance of his men.  They had obeyed orders.  He had worried that they would not stand but follow their instincts and retire and then charge at the enemy and when the enemy had fled he had feared that they would follow them headlong.  He had not wanted to blood them so early but he had learned much.  It also showed him that they needed arming in the Roman way, sooner rather than later; the lack of shields, helmets and armour could have proved disastrous if they had faced a greater force.

The legionary fortress at Vindonissa had not yet been turned into a stone bastion against the barbarians who lived across the river but even as it was, largely wood and earth it was a monumental structure.  The Sixteenth Gallica legion had to keep a keen eye across the river to foil the frequent raids of the barbarians who were keen to profit from the burgeoning empire. Marius took Publius with him to procure their equipment when he went to meet with the Legate. Inside the fort had the half empty look of a deserted home.  Publius was taken to the warehouse where their equipment was kept while the sentry took Marius to the Praetorium. The Camp Prefect apologised to Marius.  “We only have one cohort in the fortress at the moment.  The Legate has taken the others on a punitive raid across the river.” He shrugged, “We have to do it periodically, sort of thin the enemy numbers out. I believe you will be further north and east?”

“Yes we are part of Legate Corbulo’s army.”

The Camp Prefect had been a centurion and this would be his last posting before retirement.  He looked up at the Prefect who seemed relatively young for his rank. “Castra Vetera then. How are these barbarians you command then? “ He saw Marius’ reaction at the term.  “No offence meant Prefect but I have a reason.  You see I fought against the Pannonians, I was with the Ninth.  Years ago now but I remember them as wild and uncontrolled.”

Marius relaxed a little.  “I thought that too but we had to help some auxiliaries out in the mountains and their discipline surprised me.  I think being in one unit helps but they seem to be responding, well most of them.”

“Have you met Legate Corbulo yet?”

“No I was briefed in Rome.  I have never met the man.”

“Well a word of advice, he is s stickler for rules and he likes discipline and neatness.  He is a good general but he likes everything polished and bright.  He believes that a smart soldier fights better.”

“I can’t argue with that but I suspect you are telling me this because my Pannonians won’t fit the bill.”

Shrugging the veteran added, “When they are in uniform they might look a little better but if the Legate holds a parade then watch out for criticism if they don’t sit straight enough on their horses.”

“Surely it is how they fight that counts.”

“Oh I would agree with that but, as I said, the Legate believes that a neat parade ground leads to a better soldier. And he sent these orders for you.” He handed him a leather tube and Marius took it out to read the new instructions.

When he had read it he looked up.”Interesting.  It seems that your assessment of the Legate is an accurate one.  They are all to take an oath and be organised along regular lines.  A nightmare for me.  We will need to organise smaller turmae than the ones we have and more officers.”