Hosker, G [Sword of Cartimandua 11] Roman Treachery (24 page)

“Have you managed to get close yet?”

“I am closer than I was but still too far away to affect a death. And you?”

“I tried to get close but I failed.”

The pair separated; at least they were joined once more and the two together were greater than when they were apart.

The legions had not wasted time while the lull in the fighting had happened.  They knew that the barbarians would return and keep on returning until the wall was built and they could return south again. Centurion Lucius Massimus was in the hollow where they would be building a small fortlet.  A huge cliff rose to his left and his task, or the task of his century was to lay the foundations for the wall which would abut this natural defence. His men were cutting steps in the cliff face to make a path for them to reach the upper sections of the wall. He was grateful for the plentiful stone which lay in large amounts. The actual quarrying had been kept to a minimum.  There was even a small lake which was quite close by so that they did not have to move far for the water they needed to mix the cement.  All in all it was as easy a job as you were given on the wall these days.  He was still wary however and twenty of his soldiers stood on guard facing the moor land which rose to the north. He would trade off the work the men could do for the added security they gave. His men still had their weapons stacked in tent party groups but he insisted they wear their armour, despite the moaning and bitching which resulted.

“Listen, you moaning bastards. If those fucking barbarians come again you will be glad you have your armour on.  They might be piss poor warriors but even they couldn’t fail to hit you if you had no armour so stop moaning and get working.”

The optio in charge of the guards smiled.  Lucius was a good officer and worked as hard as the men.  Unlike many centurions he was not free with his vine staff. Something nagged at the back of his mind but he could not think what it was. He stared out again at the forest some mile and a half away.  He knew that they were being watched and that worried him.  He hated the idea that the barbarians could just emerge and attack at a moment’s notice.  He had no doubt that they would defeat them; after all, despite their overwhelming numbers, more barbarians had been killed by legionaries than legionary losses.  It had been two weeks since the last attack and that was unnerving. Suddenly he stopped staring and began to listen. Then it clicked in his mind.  It was the lack of noise which was unnatural.  There should have been birds in the cliffs to their right and other animals hunting in the lake but to their right was silence. Even as he stared at the cliff the fifty barbarians rose from the moors a hundred paces away. “Sir, barbarians! Two ranks.” The twenty men formed two ranks and began to move towards the barbarians. He watched as they pulled back on their bows. “Shields!”

They held their shields defensively but there was no immediate attack; suddenly, as the rest of the century tried to don helmets and scuta forty Votadini and Selgovae rose from the water and the cliffs and began to hurl stones from their slings at the legionaries. They were close enough to do damage and, without shields and helmets there was a sudden cracking as the missiles hit and broke arms, cracked heads and damaged knees.

The optio had no choice.  “Wheel right!” As the twenty men wheeled right they exposed their backs to the archers who aimed carefully.  Their practice had paid off and two of the twenty men fell with arrows sticking from their necks while another two had feathered missiles embedded in their calves. By the time they had reached the lake the slingers had disappeared and the rest of the century was armed.  As they looked north they could see the two bands disappearing back to their homes.

“Sorry sir!”

“Not you fault Septimus. This was well planned. Capsarius what is the damage?”

“Three dead and eight wounded; although none of the wounds are serious.”

Serious enough and worrying; that means three of our men dead and none of them.”

“So you see legate this is a change in direction.  They stayed out of pila range and targeted the men working with slingers.  We killed none of theirs and every unit has suffered casualties. It is happening all along the wall. We have suffered more casualties in one day than in the past month.”

The tribune of the Sixth who had brought the message had witnessed one such attack and had been lucky not to have been wounded himself.  It was a salutatory lesson.  The new auxiliary prefect was there along with Livius. “It looks, sir, as though someone had been giving them advice!!

“Perhaps your man, Scaeva?”

“Those were my thoughts sir.”

The Batavian prefect asked, “Scaeva?”

“A deserter who knows our weapons and our tactics.”

“Thank you tribune.  Tell the commanders that we will be sending Marcus’ Horse on patrol and we hope that will slow down the attacks.”

The tribune shook his head, “With respect, prefect, we need archers not horsemen.”

After he had left Livius said, “He is right sir.”

“I know.  I have sent a message to Eboracum.  There is a cohort of Syrian archers there and I think they would be of more use here.”

“I agree sir but until we get them I will arm half each turma with bows. Some are better than others but it is a start.”

Julius gave a sad smile, “The days when Sergeant \Macro trained them to use the bow are long gone eh Livius?”

“Sad to say, yes sir.”

Chapter 17

Aneurin and Scanlan looked askance at the bows they were given. “Sir, we aren’t archers.”

“Well you are going to learn.  Surely you used one when you were a boy?”

They both shook their heads. “Me neither sir?”

“You are from the south, Vibius, I didn’t expect you to have any skill but these are Brigante and they are normally good archers.” He turned to address the whole turma. “It seems our barbarian friends have learned how to aim their bows and use sling shots; they are keeping out of range of the spears and javelins we use so they will be doing the same for us.  Let us give them a shock. First we practise and learn to shoot… from the back of a horse.”

He heard the collective groan and smiled.  His step brother Macro would have had them drilled and perfect within a week.  Marcus had one day before they began their patrols. Their first efforts were laughable and Marcus briefly considered letting them practise from the ground.  He did no have enough time. “Just aim the bow into the air and loose on my command!”

Eventually they all managed to loose their arrows on command and they all flew, roughly the same distance.  It would have to do and it would be up to Marcus to judge the best time for them to loose their weapons. “Well done.  Now when we come up against them you will hold two spare arrows in your left hand and loose them immediately the first has flown.”

“Sir?”

“Where do we put the bow when we are not using it?” Vibius had an innocent look on his face when he asked the question which had vexed him for some time.

Cassius growled, “I’ll tell you precisely where I will stick it Trooper Gemellus!”

“No, chosen man, it is a fair question. You will all make a case which will fit behind your shield.  That way the enemy will not know we have such weapons and we may achieve an element of surprise eh?” They all nodded happily having realised that it was not such a hard thing to do.  Marcus wondered what they would have made of the days when he Macro and Rufius could loose arrows behind them as they retreated. “The quiver will fit on one of your saddle horns.” With four such horns on the saddle the troopers had to balance the load their horses carried but Marcus knew that the quiver only weighed the same as the quiver with the javelins; they would balance.”Tomorrow we will try to surprise our Votadini friends.”

As they headed out of the bridge gate Felix rode, reluctantly, on his horse Blackie.  He had come to love the horse but did not enjoy riding it but Marcus had been insistent.  When he scouted the signifier would tether it to his mount. Wolf, of course, ranged free and Marcus swore that he see the hint of a grin on the beast’s face.  They used the hidden valley for a few miles and then Felix slid from Blackie and sprinted off after Wolf. Cassius’ gruff voice murmured, “I don’t know why you bother with a horse for him sir.  He is faster on foot than we are mounted!”

At the same time as Marcus and Gnaeus headed north Sextus and Publius headed south along the Stanegate with Turmae Thirteen and Fourteen.  Livius had decided that, as they had the most inexperienced troopers, they should have the safer journey to their patrol point. They soon reached the site of the new Tungrian fort and headed up the road which led to the gate they were building in the wall.  There was still bad feeling between the Tungrians and the troopers but the officers on both sides had been told to control their men and the journey through the construction site was merely marked by looks and gestures hidden from their officers.

As soon as they passed through, what would be the northern gate of the fort, Sextus halted his troopers. He and Publius had been chosen men who had both been promoted at the same time but Sextus was older. “Now lads we are going into enemy territory.  The only friends we have out there are the other six turmae.  Every other bugger is desperate for your family jewels to be displayed around your neck after you are dead and they have whipped them off.  They are sneaky, cunning bastards.  Don’t just look in the distance, keep your eyes open for things on the ground around you.  We are not going into the forest, the Sword is doing that.” Marcus had earned that name by dint of wielding the mystical sword.  It was also the turma to which they all aspired. “And he has the Wolf and the boy with him so we will be safe from attack in that direction.” He pointed west. “Now the poor sods building near the cliff were attacked the other day and we are going to make sure they aren’t attacked again.”

The two turmae headed west. The moors rolled up and down never affording the troopers the opportunity to see for more than a hundred paces or so ahead. Sextus looked to his left and saw the mighty wall rising on the high land to the south.  The Emperor had picked the right spot for his wall. Once it was completed they would be able to see several miles north and patrols would be easier.  Sextus knew that his troopers were good lads but they were raw; they had to learn how to become good troopers and this was not the place to learn.

The cliffs to their left rose steeply and they could see the lake which had hidden the Votadini slingers.  Even though he knew that the legionaries would have checked the water he led his turmae down to inspect the dark and dangerous water. If nothing else it would allow the horses a drink. He stared at the water wondering how the Votadini had hidden and then he spied, in the shallows, some reeds.  He turned to four of his troopers.  “Come with me and have your javelins ready.” They entered the lake and began to walk around the edge.  Sextus peered down into the reeds to see if he could see anything.  As they approached the western end the optio on guard duty waved his arm in acknowledgement.  Just as Sextus was about to wave back he saw an unnatural shape in the water.  He just reacted and thrust his javelin into the Votadini slinger who lay there. As he jerked his death throes and blood erupted into the lake water, the other four boys who had hidden there jumped up.  The troopers behind Sextus responded immediately, throwing their javelins into the unprotected boys.  Sextus’ spatha stabbed into the back of the last, would be assassin.

The optio and his men raced over, weapons at the ready. Behind Sextus he heard one of his men say, “How did he know?”

He turned, “I didn’t son.  I just kept my eyes open and imagined myself to be a cunning Celt. I’ll say this though, they were brave boys.”

It was now obvious that they were, in fact, little more than boys but it showed the three officers that the Votadini were desperate enough to throw even their children into the fray.

“Thanks decurion.”

“You are welcome.  Can we leave the bodies to you lads?”

“Aye we’ll get rid of them.”

Sextus led the two turmae further north but it had been a lesson well learned.  He smiled as he saw his men looking about them with even more interest and attention.

Wolf and Felix found the man traps close to the entrance to the forest. Marcus dismounted to inspect them. They were shallow pits which would have pitched their riders form their horses whilst the stakes in the bottom would have lamed their mounts. “I think we will leave the forest and skirt the outside.  Out job today is to deter the enemy not to risk disaster. Felix range ahead and see if you can pick up a trail.”

The two scouts disappeared and the two turmae followed keeping one eye on the edge of the forest and the other on the distant wall. They were high enough to be on a level with the wall which stood like a white scar on the green landscape. They caught a glint of light on the water of the lake as Marcus called for a halt.  “Feed the horses; my turma will guard first and then yours Gnaeus.” While they ate Marcus walked along the fells to a small rock promontory.  He climbed up and he saw, returning, Felix and Wolf.  Further, in the distance he could see two turmae; that would be Sextus and Publius but as they were, at least, four miles ahead it was hard to tell. The promontory afforded Marcus the opportunity to see the dangers in the land. Although perfect for cavalry there were too many places where men could hide.

Felix climbed up the promontory far easier than Marcus had.  “Sir, I crossed the trail of a warband.  There were a hundred of them and they were heading west.”

“West eh?” That means they are following the same route as Sextus.  I hope he has his wits about him.” He whistled for his men and the two turmae quickly mounted and galloped over bringing Marcus’ horse. As he mounted he spoke to Gnaeus.  “There is a warband ahead and they may be tracking Sextus.”

Sextus too had decided to halt and enjoy a meal break.  The wall had not reached this far yet and he decided to head for the gap known as the tree gap for the lone sapling which somehow managed to survive on the exposed ridge.  He knew there was water nearby and it made sense to rest as far from danger as possible. “Publius, take charge.  I need to take a dump.”