Hosker, G [Sword of Cartimandua 04] Roman Retreat (28 page)

Livius met the Prefect and halted the ala. “The warband is halted in a dell a mile away.  Mac… the Decurion asked me to halt you here.”

“Well done.  Gaius, come with me.  The rest of you feed and rest your horses.”

Livius led them off the road and they found the two troopers guarding the horses. Leaving their own mounts there they began to make their way through the undergrowth. The warband obviously hadn’t come down the slope for the brush was thick and tangled, ripping at cloaks and unprotected limbs. Macro appeared like a wraith from no-where and Gaius was reminded of Gaelwyn the Brigante scout. Livius noted that the well trained turma was also well hidden and he knew the enormity of the role he had taken on.  How would he take on Marco’s mantle?

Macro squatted and they copied him. Whispering he said, “They are down there about five hundred paces. Most of them are sleeping but they have got guards out all around and an ambush laid up the back trail. With this undergrowth there is no way to surprise them and our mounts would not cope with this terrain.”

The Prefect popped his head up and looked around.  “You are right.  The good news is they are not going anywhere at the moment and our horses need the rest. Let us go back to our horses where we can talk.”

Livius’ mind was working overtime as they slipped through the tangle.  He was desperate to impress these hardened warriors. “How about an ambush of our own?”

Julius looked with interest at Livius. “How would we work that?”

“I don’t know the terrain down here but we know where they are heading don’t we?  Morbium.  Is there somewhere that we could ambush them with Macro’s archers while the rest of the ala attacks the rear?”

Gaius looked at Macro.  “Remember the place where Drusus died near the river? Well just down from there the valley narrows quite a lot and it is steep ground. Fifty archers could cause problems.”

“That’s right and the land this side is quite wide and will allow us to manoeuvre. “

“Right. Macro leave two of your men to trail the barbarians when they leave.  You and Livius take Gratius’ turma; they are competent archers and lay your ambush.” As Macro eagerly sprang on to his horse’s back the Prefect gripped the reins.  “And Macro you are not Horatius on the bridge.  You are an ambush. Kill as many as you can but when they work out how to outflank you then flee.  Fire arrows as you do so but do not get caught. We haven’t got enough men to be able to throw away two turmae.” Macro nodded sulkily. “Retreat to Morbium. They could use the extra men and we will continue our pursuit.”

Gaius and Julius were glad for the rest, Gaius even more than the Prefect.  He felt his age these days and the back of his horse did not seem as easy and comfortable as it once had.  When he did retire he would save his horse riding for special occasions.

“Will the plan work Gaius?”

Gaius looked over in surprise.  The Prefect was having doubts. “It doesn’t matter either way sir.  It is the only plan we have.  We slowed them up at Trimontium.  If we can slow them up at Morbium then they may not get south of the Dunum and that is all we can hope.”

“There will be another warband Gaius in the west and there will be no one to stop that one.”

“Remember the land of the lakes Julius? That is a hard country. There is a large garrison at Luguvalium which may slow them down and a small garrison at Glanibanta.  Those and the terrain may well make it harder for Calgathus’ men.”

“But Gaius there is no-one coming to aid us. Once they brush aside those two forts then they are into Britannia, Brigante country.”

“This isn’t like you Julius.  Don’t look too far ahead.  Let us deal with this warband first and then we will look at the next problem.”

“You are right.  One warband at a time.”

The problem the ala had the next day was staying out of sight of the warband.  The Roman road ran along a ridge and any troops would be clearly seen.  The warband stayed in the valleys moving swiftly along the lush new growth. Eventually Julius decided to move the ala east and ride parallel to the road relying on Macro’s scouts for warnings of any deviation from the route they had predicted.

“The funnel is about two miles away sir.”

“Right Gaius.” Raising his arm the Prefect led them down the slope along to the valley bottom.  At first it was hard going until they came to the area trampled by thirty thousand warriors. The two scouts found them.

“Still heading south sir but they keep leaving forty or fifty warriors along the trail to ambush any pursuers.  They nearly caught us until we worked out what they were doing. “

“Decurions Valerius and Galeo.  Go with these men and eliminate the ambush.  The rest of you, unsling your shields we are going to battle.”

The land fell away before them but they could, about a mile away the wooded copse in which the ambush was being set. The ala halted in two lines and waited. The two Decurions had split their forces and Julius could see the horses tethered on the outside of the woods. The troopers slipped in and after what seemed like an age but was probably a few minutes he saw a trooper emerge and wave his javelin.  The ambush had been cleared.

The two wings of the ala swept around the outside of the copse and reformed on the other side. The turmae of Cilo and Galeo formed up behind them. Julius led the ala slowly towards the funnel and the trap.  He needed Macro to ensure that the barbarians were pressing forward before he attacked.  As they came over the rise they see the horde pushing forward. In the distance the Prefect could see arrows, few in number plunging into the warband.  Drawing his sword Julius ordered the charge.  Gaius drew the Sword of Cartimandua and, as he felt his turma start to edge forward, he smiled at their enthusiasm. Marcus had always said the sword was worth another turma in battler and he was right.

The barbarians were too eager to get at the men who had halted them and did not see or hear the horses thundering at their backs.  The first javelins were hurled at thirty paces distance and the second twenty.  Even as the last javelins flew they drew their spathas and, as their mounts trampled the dead and dying they stabbed and thrust into unarmoured and unprotected backs. Their blades slipped easily down the sides of their horse’s heads killing all before them. They were a killing machine four hundred paces wide.  The second line threw their javelins ahead to create an enormous killing ground. As Julius found a gap before him he looked over the barbarians and saw Macro’s men retreating, firing arrows as they went. The charge of the rest of the ala had slowed down and the barbarians were now turning to fight their tormentors. “Fall back!”

The order was repeated and the ala withdrew up the slope out of arrow range. The Caledonii waved their fists and weapons at the Romans but they were in no position to attack. Julius watched as a group of chiefs and leaders met behind the barbarian’s lines. “Looks like we have given them a problem Prefect.”

“Aye.  They can’t move forward with us here and they can’t attack us because we can evade them.”

“They will probably try to outflank us.”

“No that would take too much time.”

Lulach’s solution was simple, he kept moving through the funnel but the men at the rear were spearmen who planted their long shafts of ash into the ground whenever the ala approached making a hedgehog of spear points.  Although this stopped the ala from attacking it meant that the warband was moving incredibly slowly.  Macro had chosen to disobey his orders and was harrying those at the front and peppering them with arrows.  Unfortunately for Marco the funnelling effect did not last long and the warband began to spread out; the turmae were in danger of being enveloped and, holding his bow above his head as a signal Macro led his men south to the safety of Morbium’s walls.

“Well we slowed them for a while but they can move on to the river now.”

“But much more slowly Gaius.  By the time they arrive it will be dark and they will have been warned by Macro. Look at the field.  They have left almost an ala of their own men dead.  The problem is they now know we are pursuing and we will have to watch for ambushes. Take your turma as scouts, we will follow.”

Calgathus was having less success than his son.  The legionaries and auxiliaries at Luguvalium had inflicted many casualties on his warband and, like Lulach at Trimontium, he had been forced to leave the siege and continue south to raid. Already herds of cattle and other animals were being driven north to the lands of the Selgovae and Votadini.  Calgathus might not have caused a major military problem but, economically, he had hurt northern Britannia.

Decius Brutus arrived at Eboracum with the cohort from the Ninth. “Who is charge here?” He looked around and could only see Centurions. “Who is senior then?”

“Me First Spear.  Centurion Annius Servilius.”

“Where is the Prefect?”

“He was taken ill last week.  He died last night.”

Groaning Decius looked around the walls. “Who do you have here then?”

“Two cohort of Tungrians.”

“That it?”

“There is a camp outside with the four Cohortes Equitatae waiting for orders.  They have been trained but no prefects!”

“Why haven’t they moved north then?”

Before the man could answer there was a shout from the gates. “Riders approaching.  Stand to.”

Decius heard the challenge and the response. As soon as he heard, “Marcus’ Horse.” He shouted, “Open the gate and let them in.”

The two troopers were exhausted. One of them Julius Calpius recognised Decius. “Am I glad to see you sir? We are from Decurion Cilo’s turma.  The Caledonii have broken out and two warbands are heading south. The prefect was trying to slow them down.  One of them was heading for Morbium.”

“Well done son. Get these men some food and water. Centurion I want one of your cohorts ready to move at dawn.  Take me to these four cohorts.  They are going into action tomorrow.  We will march on Morbium.”

“But sir it is sixty miles.”

“Then we will double time. If we don’t stop them there son they will be able to destroy Eboracum in a heartbeat. Send messengers to Lindum and Deva.  They need warning too.”

Prefect Demetrius was proved correct.  Lulach’s warband arrived at Morbium after dark and they made their camp in the Roman style with a ditch and stakes. “They are learning Gaius.”

“Yes I had hoped they would just collapse and then we could have attacked them while they slept.”

“I want us up that ridge.  The last thing I want is for a sneak attack at night and undo all the good work the lads have done. Set the sentries and make sure everyone is rested.”

“At least Macro will have a comfortable night.”

“I think he would rather be here with us.”

Decurion Macro was, indeed longing to be outside the walls.  “I tell you Livius I am never happy inside walls.  I feel trapped.”

Decurion Cilo laughed.  “Well if you will go outside then Livius and I will have four times the room to sleep.”

“No I will put up with the discomfort.”

The Camp Prefect now had almost three full turmae in the fort.  While this made it crowded he had a much chance of defending against the warband which seemed to fill the horizon and their many fires dancing closer to the fort than they would have liked made the night seem like day. He hoped that the two troopers sent south had reached Eboracum but more than that, he hoped there was even now, a legion marching from the south. The giant Decurion, Macro had stressed to the Centurions and the Camp Prefect that they needed to ensure that the bolt throwers well supplied, well manned and well aimed. “They could be the difference between winning and getting our arses kicked.  Make sure the men have the ranges for the onagers and get plenty of water from the river otherwise we will burn. “

Decurion Cilo and Livius just smiled at the befuddled expressions on the Prefect and Centurion’s faces.  Macro looked so big and muscular that everyone assumed he had no brain.  As Decurion Cilo said to Livius, “He might not be sharp about some things but he is a military marvel right down to his toes.”

Lulach was in a foul mood. He knew that the Roman cavalry was just watching him and waiting for him to attack.  His plan to sneak up on them as they slept had failed when they moved out of sight and his scouts had been found butchered. The fort still stood there and he knew that his father would have expected him to have passed it already and be heading for Eboracum. He looked towards the read where his tired men were planting sharpened stakes.  If he couldn’t eliminate the cavalry he could at least neutralize it. When he attacked the fort he would not have to worry about cavalry causing him problems.

Julius was up well before dawn.  Gaius had told him of the traps laid by the Caledonii. “That gives us a problem then doesn’t it?”

“We could go upstream and cross the river at the ford it is only twenty miles upstream.”

“All that does Gaius is to get us across the river.  No we need to cause the Caledonii problems here. Well we shall have to fight on foot.” Gaius looked quizzically at the prefect.  They had done it before but the men were not happy about it. “We shall do as we did in the north.  Half the men mounted and half on foot. The mounted use javelins and the foot use bows.  If, sorry I meant, when the Caledonii attack, the mounted men race in with spare horses and take our men out.”

“We won’t be able to destroy large numbers.”

“No but we will wear them down and stop them bringing their full force against Morbium.  It is no Alavna or Coriosopitum.  Unless Eboracum can send reinforcements it won’t last a day. I just hope Macro and Cilo can do something about the bridge.  If they can get men across there then the south is open to them.”

Gaius looked south as though he could see the miles to Stanwyck.  “Where my family and Tribune Marcus wait.”

Lulach had learned from his wars against Rome.  His men had constructed huge shields made of logs.  In the night they had moved forward and placed them within arrow range of the fort.  The men who had waited there had had a long cold night but were rewarded in the morning by not having to face the gauntlet of enemy fire. Lulach stood out of range of the Romans and signalled the assault.  The first warriors popped their heads over the log shields and fired their arrows.  There was no reply and they looked back at their leader who urged them on.  Soon the archers were firing constantly until their arrows were exhausted.