Hosker, G [Sword of Cartimandua 04] Roman Retreat (4 page)

Chapter 3

Prefect Marcus Aurelius Maximunius and Prefect Strabo had pushed the weary relief column as hard as they could. As they rested the two prefects discussed the parlous state they were in.

“Centurion Vestrus is the best man to defend a fort.  He has forgotten more than I know but even so the force he faces has already defeated two forts and killed their men.”

“The message from Decius was that the ala was going to their aid.”

“I know Marcus and for that I am grateful.  I was just pleased that you were still training these fifty recruits.  Otherwise we would have had no eyes and ears.”

“I would not like to throw them into combat yet but at least they prevent us heading into an ambush. The trouble is Furius that this country does not suit my men. There are far too many trees and too many rocks. My cavalry likes open fields and space to wheel and turn.”

“Aye but now that the Emperor has summoned the rest of the cavalry to Dacia you are the only ala left in the north.”

“The Emperor asked for us to be sent to Dacia.”

“But why?  Surely there are Eastern alae who are closer. I thought the Eastern cavalry was supposed to be the best in the world?  The Parthians and the Scythians.”

“It seems that General Agricola extolled our virtues and the Emperor Domitian wanted us and, I think, the Queen’s sword.”

“Why are you still here then?”

“The Governor said we were under strength.”

“If Domitian finds out that that is a lie then both the Governor and you will be in danger.”

“For myself I am going to retire as soon as I can but the Governor,” he shrugged, “they all play a dangerous game.” Dismissing the idea as though no politician was worth a second thought he continued, “Now if you were the barbarians what would you do?”

“I would assume that a relief force would be sent south to ambush them in this valley.”

“Luckily we know this area quite well; we are not far from where our first camp was. I will lead the scouts myself when we advance for I think I know where they will be.”

“Be careful Marcus.  If anything happened to you Decius would have my balls for his breakfast.”

“Do not worry old friend I have fought in these lands too long to die in an ambush.”

Decius and Marius met amidst the carnage which was the fort. They clasped arms. “Thank you Decurion Princeps.  Your arrival was timely. But for you and my friend here I would be with the Allfather now.”

“We may yet all join him. There are still warbands out there.  We must leave and leave quickly. Gather your men together.  We will need litters for the wounded.” Decius shouted. “Macro! Time to volunteer again.”

“Macro galloped up looking as fresh as a man who has had a full night’s sleep instead of the snatch cat nap he actually had. “Yes Decurion Princeps?”

“Choose the ten men who have the best mounts and you think are the best for the task.  Find the barbarians who are south of us.”Macro vaulted easily on to the back of his mount. “Oh and Macro, just watch them and report back.  I know there are only a few thousand but don’t try to beat them all on your own.”

“As if.” Laughing Macro rode to the rest of the ala to choose his men.

Marius looked up, a half smile on his lips. “Were we ever as keen?”

“No-one was ever that keen.  If you sort out your men I will make sure we aren’t disturbed. Decurions.”

Marius looked down at Gnaeus who was being bandaged by a smiling Sallustus. “Well my old friends we still survive although I fear, Gnaeus, your days in the cohorts are numbered.”

“What this little scratch?  I can still march faster than you.”

“I think not old friend.  That was bone I could see.”

Decius addressed his officers. “Well done lads but we are not out of the woods yet, literally.” They all smiled at the grim humour. “Casualties?”

Gaius had already been around the ala, “Six hundred ready to ride and fight. Fifty who can ride and we have twenty empty mounts.”

“Decurion Cilo? The camp?”

“They were all killed. We lost three men and we brought along five horses.”

“Good that means twenty five of their wounded can have litters.”

A grim faced Centurion marched towards them.  “We only have two hundred soldiers fit for duty.  I have over a hundred wounded and there are thirty who will not make the journey.”

Decius looked at the Centurion. “Would you like us to…”

The unspoken words were greeted with a thin lipped smile. “Thank you Decurion I will drink with you later to thank you for the gesture but these are my men and I will do them the honour of sending them to the Allfather myself.”

Gaius watched as the Centurion walked over to each badly wounded warrior, spoke a few words and then despatched them with his pugeo. He wondered would he ever be able to do that with his troopers; those who had fought and bled alongside him. By the time the Centurion had finished the column was ready to move.

“Centurion if you would take the lead my ala will form a cordon around you. Gaius, you take the lead. Julius. You take the rear. The rest of you spread yourselves on either side.” As they moved as swiftly as the exhausted Batavians could manage the fort was fired, its black smoke joining that of the burning barbarian camp.  “Well the whole country will see that.  I just hope they think it was Caledonii celebrating victory. Gellius come here.”

A young trooper rode next to Decius.  “Yes Decurion Princeps?”

“Your horse looks to be fresher than the rest.  Ride to the the hills to the east, skirt the barbarians and see if you can find Prefect Strabo. Let him know what happened and alert him to our predicament.”

“Yes sir.”

“And son.”

“Yes sir?”

“Be careful.”

The Caledonii warbands had chosen their ambush site carefully. They had chosen the place lower down the valley from the deserted fort at Inchtuthil and the surrounding auxiliary camps. The valley was narrow but the cleared land near the camps gave them room to manoeuvre. They assumed they would be facing infantry and the war chief, Teutorigos wanted to draw the Romans forward to the wide part of the valley so that he could envelop the meagre force with his overwhelming numbers. He knew the numbers of Romans who could be spared and he expected no more than three cohorts. Fifteen hundred men were no match for his thousands. He had not envied Ninian attacking a defensive site with all the Roman artillery but here, on the open fields, numbers would count. He glanced to the hills to the east and west and waved his arm. When he received the correct response he knew that his trap was in place. As soon as the scouts returned to warn of the arrival of the relief force his men would stand and prepare to slaughter even more Romans.

Marcus led the twenty young recruits through the tree line. He held up his hand to halt them and then slid from his horse. He pointed to on of the taller recruits and then pointed up the tree. Grinning the recruit stood on his horse’s back and then shimmied up the tree.  He soon disappeared from sight and Marcus and the rest waited patiently. Marcus’ plan was simple. Eliminate any scouts and then find the enemy before he found them. The recruit slid down the bole of the tree and came next to Marcus. He had enough sense to speak in a whisper. “Ten warriors sir waiting in a line twenty paces apart. The first one is about two hundred paces down the valley.”

“Well done.” For the first time Marcus wished he had brought more, for each pair would have to take out one warrior and Marcus was under no illusions the Caledonii scouts were better than his barely trained recruits. He gathered them around. “We are going to form a line four hundred paces north of these scouts. You four, “He pointed to the most experienced recruits, “will wait with the horses.” He noted their disappointment. “Your job is to kill any who escape.  I will be with you.” He smiled to himself as he saw the grins creep back on their faces. “You four,” he pointed to another four will each take a scout from the middle. The rest will be in pairs and you will kill the scouts. This is your first real task and make no mistake it is difficult and would be difficult for someone who has fought in these lands for years, not days. You have to kill them and kill them quickly, one sound and they will flee like frightened deer and if they do then the main army will know where we are. Understood?” Their eager, determined faces told him they understood.

As Marcus waited with his four reserves he realised, not for the first time that he preferred to do than to wait. He wished he had been on patrol with Decius and that, even now, his fate would be in his own hands but he also knew that his days in the ala were numbered.  He was getting too old and, as he shifted uncomfortably on the back of his mount, he knew this would be his last patrol. There was a sudden movement ahead and Marcus levelled his javelin.  The recruits did the same.  The Caledonii scout had no chance as two javelins struck him in the chest. The second scout was alerted and he dropped to the ground making the missiles hiss harmlessly above his head.  As he rose to race off through the woods one of the recruits leapt from his horse on to his back and, in one fluid movement, slit the scout’s throat.

“Well done trooper.  What is your name?”

“Titus Albus sir.” The young man was beaming with pleasure. Fifteen recruits joined them. With a heavy heart Marcus realised that one was dead.  They found the boy, for he was barely seventeen, with his throat cut, it seemed to grin at them in an obscene sort of way. Glancing at the rest of the troopers Marcus knew that it was a lesson learned.  They had seen death and knew its smile.

Decurion Julius Demetrius was in the best possible position to witness the distress of the wounded and after two hours of helping the survivors he rode to the middle of the column. “Decurion Princeps I have to report that some of these wounded won’t survive the next mile, let alone the twenty we have to travel.”

Decius looked at the eager young officer and his sad, worn face registered the pain that was spreading across the boy’s face. “I know son and that is the problem.  What we should do is leave them here rather than slowing down the column.  They are going to die anyway but, “he gestured to the back of the limping Centurion, walking next to the litter containing his best friend, “as long as they walk we’ll stay with them but we won’t and we can’t stop. I put you at the back because you are their best chance to get out of this.  If you think they are going to fall you know what to do.”

“You mean… “ The Decurion looked appalled at the very thought, “I couldn’t kill one of our own.”

“Would you rather they were captured?  You have seen enough captives to know what that means. Or do you want to leave them to kill them in their way? “The look on Decurion Demetrius’ face showed that he had understood. “It isn’t right but it is the way it is.  Sometimes we have to make decisions as officers that as men we wouldn’t.”

Julius glanced back down the line where unwounded Batavians were half carrying the wounded. “I know what to do sir and thank you for trusting me with the rearguard.  I won’t let you down.”

“I know Julius.”

Riding to the rear Julius came up with an idea. He shouted to his men. “One man in two dismount, and put a wounded soldier on its back.  The rest of you come with me.” There was no surprise or dissent from his men. They followed orders.  The relief from those wounded as they sat on the trooper’s horses made the discomfort of walking palatable. “We are going to make sure we aren’t being tracked.  We are going back along the trail.  You two thirty paces to the right, you two thirty paces to the left.” He detailed off the four men and then led them back along the trail they had just followed.

Marius walked over to Decius as he saw what the young man had done. “You have a good officer there.”

“I know but he was a prick when he first joined.  Just shows what a bit of training can do.”

The Centurion laughed. “That’s the truth.” He dropped his voice and drew closer to the Decurion’s horse. “I want to thank you.  I know that my wounded are slowing you down.  If you want me to…”

Decius shook his head. “No if it comes to it we will but until we either bump into the main force of the rabble catch us up we’ll take it steady.  The rest is doing the horses good. Would you like to ride for a while? You can have Snowbird here.”

The Centurion laughed. “Thank you for your kind offer but I prefer the earth beneath my feet not a sweaty horse beneath my arse. Besides I am not sure I could stay on.”

They both laughed.  “Each to his own.”

“Prefect Strabo cavalry approaching.”

Strabo halted the column as Marcus rode up.”No scouts ahead of you and we found the main force just south of Inchtuthil.”

“Crafty buggers.  That’s really narrow there.”

“Should suit your lads shouldn’t it?”

The prefect shook his head.  “Might suit the legions but my lads like a bit of room.  Our shields don’t lock together like the legionaries. No we’ll use missiles to annoy them, make them charge us.  At least if they are ahead of us and that close it means they aren’t slaughtering my cohort.”

Marcus looked gravely at his friend.  “Unless they are already dead.”

“How many did you see?”

“Looked to be two warbands, which normally means four to five thousand warriors.”

“In that case either the missing cohorts have killed a lot of men or they are still fighting because two warbands can’t take a defended fort.  No they are still alive and you have now given me more reason to pick up the pace.  Come on you shower! Your comrades are waiting for you and you are dragging your heels like recruits on their first day of training.” The Centurions picked up the pace as they remembered why they were there.

A sharp eyed recruit shouted, “Rider!”

Every hand went to a weapon for Marcus had the only cavalry in the area. “It’s one of my lads relax.”

Recognising Marcus the trooper rode straight up to him. “Prefect.  Decurion Princeps Flavius sent me sir.  He has effected the relief of the fort and he is coming down the tail with the survivors.” Those nearest heard the report and the word drifted back like smoke from a fire.  Suddenly the column erupted with a cheer and even Prefect Strabo smiled.