Hosker, G [Sword of Cartimandua 12] Roman Wall (18 page)

Felix was completely silent as he stepped carefully through the trees.  There were no broken branches on the trail to give him away.  He spied the first of the sentries.  He was leaning against the bole of a tree and staring up into the branches.  Perhaps a bird had attracted his attention.  Felix drew back his bow and his arrow pinned the neck of the dead Votadini to the tree. There were just three sentries on this northern edge of the camp and they all died just as quickly.

They quickly remounted. When the other troopers arrived they edged forward towards the camp. It was still early and the Votadini were preparing for the day.  They were all keen to attack the vaunted Romans.  Banquo had promised them Roman heads and a chance of glory. The young brother of the king would have attacked already but King Ardal was cautious. He wanted Caronwyn’s plan to have a chance to succeed.  He had spies in the eaves of the forests watching the wall for the sign that they were sending troops south. Banquo had left the camp early that morning to watch for himself.  He had a plan to send a report to his brother saying that the Romans had left. He would have his glory! The camp that Rufius and his men approached was leaderless.

The Votadini had cleared a large area for their camp. The warriors had used the branches they had cut to form crude shelters.  Someone had wanted a sense of order and there were clear avenues between the shelters. Rufius halted the turmae and said quietly to Marcus and Marius, “We will attack in a column of twos.  We sweep south and then I will head west and finally north. I will sound the buccina when we enter the camp. Marcus, your turma will take the rear. Felix, go and wait for the trooper we sent to the Prefect.  Find us.”

With their new spears in their hands the three turmae swept into the camp. Rufius waited until he saw the first face before he sounded the buccina. Plunging his spear into the surprised warrior the troopers galloped south.  The Votadini who were already outside their shelters tried to go back for their weapons.  Some were speared as they attempted to do so. Even those who managed to grab a weapon had little chance.  The long spears meant that they could not close with the Romans. The cavalry achieved complete and utter surprise.  Their spears gave them a decided advantage and the speed of their horses meant that they flashed by the warriors who were still waking up.

Swinging west Rufius led the turmae through the part of the camp which had had more warning and they were being organised as the troopers smashed into hastily arranged shield walls. The horses broke them as they were a spider’s web.

Marcus, at the rear of the attack was encountering more dead warriors than living. He knew that he would soon have to face more dangerous foes. The lack of Votadini leaders meant that the barbarians had no sense of order.  Some ran to where Rufius and his men were charging whilst others ran to the end of the camp where the troopers had first attacked.  The barbarian warband was in a state of confused chaos. The Romans, in contrast, rode in neat lines.  The spears devastated both sides as they galloped through.

Suddenly five Votadini warriors burst out of a side trail.  Their leader had a long sword which he swung doubled handed. The men with him had their spears ready to thrust into the horses when their leader killed Marcus. Marcus kept his eye on the warrior’s head.  He pulled back his spear and punched forward with it. He timed it so that the wicked looking sword was pulled back over the warrior’s head as he prepared to strike. The spear head ripped into the warrior’s head. As the metal entered the brain the sword fell from the warrior’s lifeless hands. His surprised followers fell to the spears of the troopers behind Marcus. It had been a warning however. There was now some resistance. The enemy were awake.

As Marcus and his troopers swung west he saw the first dead trooper. It was one of Marius’ men. He speared the warrior who was wastefully hacking at the dead trooper’s head. As they thundered through the carnage of the camp Marcus heard the recall. He saw an avenue to his right.  “Follow me!” He led his turma up an avenue which had seen no fighting. As they galloped towards the safety of the forest to the north they surprised warriors running from one side of the camp to the other.  Many were still half asleep and none was prepared for battle.  The Romans were and all they came across died. As Marcus and his men entered the woods he reined in Raven and began counting. All of his men had survived. He saw bloodied legs and arms showing where the Votadini had scored hits but all rode and grinned at him.

“Right.  Let’s find the others.” Marcus led them west and they soon found Rufius and Marius.  A sudden sound from the east made them grab their weapons but it was just Felix and the trooper who had delivered the message.

Rufius seemed satisfied. “A good start.  We only lost two men.”

Although he meant nothing by the comment Marcus saw the hurt in Marius’ eyes.  They had been his men and the newly promoted decurion was not sure that it had been a good start. He was learning the problems of command. He determined to make a better fist of it in the future. By late afternoon they had crossed through the forests and were just fifteen miles north of Luguvalium.

“Here is where we split up. You know your patrol routes. In five days time we can head back through the fort at Luguvalium. Marcus, you take Felix.  I know he likes to be close to the sword.”

“Sir.”

The three turmae disappeared into the land of the Selgovae as though they had never been there. Their war had begun.

Banquo was furious when he returned to his devastated camp. The dead and dying littered the ground like fallen autumn leaves. The two Romans’ horses and dismembered troopers were the only sign that they had had any success. He had already sent the message to his brother, further north, that the Romans had begun to send troops south but now he had to send another to tell him that they had been attacked themselves.

“Burn our dead and then prepare the warriors.  Tonight we pay back the Romans.”

“But the king said…”

“The king is not here and besides the Romans will be back in their fort now feeling pleased with themselves.  They will not expect an attack tonight.  They will think that we have been weakened by this attack.”

His men’s confidence had been shattered.  Even his oathsworn were beginning to question this young prince. The Roman horse warriors had met them twice and had had the better of them both times. The omens were not good.  They wondered if it should have been a warrior who was sacrificed and not a withered old woman. Perhaps the gods were unhappy and were punishing them.

Briac and his men began their raid through the Dunum valley. Their training at the Roaring Waters had stood them in good stead.  Elidr and his men joined their cousin.  They had four warbands of five hundred men each.  Their plan was simple; they would attack the small farms and settlements which had Roman sympathisers.  They hoped to drive the refugees towards Morbium where the small fort would not be able to accommodate them. With two thousand warriors they would easily destroy all resistance and with Morbium in their hands then the wall would be isolated. It would slowly be strangled to death. The VI
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was helpless inside Eboracum, still reeling from the many acts of sabotage and by the time they had recovered from the attacks within the fort the bridge over the Dunum would be destroyed. Caronwyn and the Roman Severus had come up with a good plan.

At the farm Drugi and Marcus’ brother Decius knew the danger they were in. Riders had warned them of the rising. Frann wanted to take her family into Morbium but Decius advised against it. “There are barely two hundred men in the fort.  We will have almost half that number here when the Brigante begin their attacks.”

Ailis agreed with her son.  She knew the Frann was afraid but she also knew that their farm was well built and the equal of the fort at Morbium.  Decius had taken his brother’s advice and prepared great stocks of food. He knew the Brigante warrior; they would try to assault the farm but once they were repulsed they would find easier targets.

“Drugi, hunt as much food as you can. It will feed the people and you will have the first warning of an enemy.”

As he left Drugi smiled at Frann.  “Fear not, little one, Drugi will not let anything happen to you and the Roman warrior’s children.”

He took his bow and loped off through the woods. He headed west.  There was a watering place the deer came to. He knew that the rut was over and he hoped to get a stag. He was too good a hunter to kill the does and the calves. They would be the food of the future. He made a kill before noon.  He gutted the beast where it had fallen and left the entrails for the woods.  The heart and liver he would save for himself.  He hefted the carcass across his huge shoulders and made his way east towards his home and the farm.

He had gone but half a mile when he smelled something different in the air. He hung the stag’s body from a branch and notched an arrow.  He retraced his steps. The smell grew stronger and he identified it quickly. It was the smell of warriors who had limed their hair.  He could never understand that.  Their hair would fall out before they were thirty.

He moved stealthily and began to hear them as they moved and spoke.  They were the scouts of the Brigante warband. He found a tree with foliage and he climbed.  Once he reached the upper branches he was able to see the Brigante descending from the higher ground of the hills.  He estimated their numbers at more than three hundred. Descending carefully he looked for the first scout. It was a young warrior who was peering through the undergrowth. He was little more than eighty paces from him. Drugi felt almost sorry for the youth.  The eager young warrior had out run his companions.  It was an easy kill for Drugi who moved his aim to the right.  Another scout hove into view and Drugi’s arrow struck him in the back.  So far neither warrior had made a sound as they died.

He quickly ran to his left.  There he saw two scouts.  At the same time the body of the first scout he had killed was discovered. He loosed one arrow and, even as it was in the air, loosed a second. Both men screamed as they died and Drugi ran back to his deer.  He could hear the pandemonium in the woods.  The Brigante would be looking for multiple enemies and he would have the chance to escape. With the stag on his back he ran to the farm which was three miles away.

As he dropped the body of the stag he said simply, “They come!”

Decius nodded.  All morning refugees had been arriving.  Most had barely escaped with their lives. It was those who lived to the west and were absent who upset Decius.  It meant they had not escaped and his friends lay dead. The walls were soon manned.  Decius and Drugi looked down at the ditch and the stream which surrounded the walls of the farm.  Both had been sown with lillia and caltrops. Any Brigante foolish enough to try to cross them would get a shock. Some of Decius’ men had replaced the bridges over the stream and the ditch with the two traps.  They looked whole but any weight would result in them breaking. The real bridges were put in place behind the gate so that it made the entrance three layers thick.

Drugi heard them first.  He pointed away to the west.  “They are coming.”

Decius had never served as a soldier but his father had been one of the finest and his brother had helped to train him.  He had the mind of a soldier, defensively at least. “Everyone crouch down so that they see no one.  I will tell you when to rise.”

Half of the men worked on the farm and the others knew Decius well enough to obey his orders as though he was a soldier. Even Drugi crouched down.  Decius hid his smile as the huge man tried to make himself as small as possible.

Briac and his men had moved cautiously once they had discovered the bodies of the four scouts. They had hoped to find this Roman farm with its gates opened so that they could race in and slaughter the well known Roman sympathisers. When he saw the closed gates he knew they were prepared.

He and Elidr stood behind a tree some hundred paces from the walls. They were within bow range and they knew that this farm would be defended. Caronwyn had been firm; they had to destroy the farm and kill those within before they moved on. She seemed to hate the family more than any other. They would do as the priestess commanded.  So far her decisions had been good ones.

A handful of the younger warriors seeing their leader sheltering behind a tree and observing no one on the ramparts took it upon themselves to charge the walls.  They would gain the glory.  Each had one of the spears Severus had brought, a small shield and, at their waist, a fine sword. They screamed their war cry and raced forward before Briac could restrain them. Boru and Anlan were the fastest and the most reckless.  They struck the weakened bridge together.  They fell into the stream.  Boru looked down at the sharpened stake which came up through his leg. Anlan lay in the water; his fall had broken his ankle and he had fallen onto another of the deadly lillia. Anlan watched his life blood redden the stream as he began to die.

The others saw the trap and tried to leap the stream.  Two of them made it.  The others fell screaming on to the spikes which were hidden beneath the streams waters.

“Come and fight you Roman cowards. I, Tadge, son of Lugos challenge you to fight me.” There was silence behind the wall and Tadge and his companion began to wonder if there was anyone within. They both ran over the second weakened bridge.  Both were heavy warriors and it too collapsed beneath their weight.  The fall was greater as the ditch was deeper than the top of the water. The cracks as their legs broke were followed by their screams as the lillia speared them.

Briac turned to his men and snarled, “That was a waste! We do not throw our lives away.” The ones still alive in the stream and the ditch moaned as they found themselves unable to move.

“Shield wall.” Briac was under no illusions; there were defenders within the walls despite the apparently empty walls. They would move forwards cautiously.  “Elidr, make a fire.  We will burn them out.”