Hosker, G [Sword of Cartimandua 09] Hero of Rome (35 page)

Sextus was in the first wagon, tending to the wounded and he leapt from the moving vehicle and helped Cassius to the ground.  He turned to the troopers who were nearby. “Help me get the Decurion Princeps to the wagon!”

Although well meaning the decision was a disastrous one for the whole column halted just as the men on the knoll attacked.  As the dismounted troopers struggled to help Cassius to the wagon, the remainder formed a thin shield wall to protect their vulnerable comrades on the ground. At the same time they all heard the wail from the middle of the line of wagons as King Tole led his warriors to attack the centre of the column. Amidst it all they heard the voice of the Legate shout, “Dismount and fight on foot!” The column was totally surrounded and under heavy attack from Selgovae who had the advantage of both numbers and cover.

******

Livius and Vibius were discovering that the barbarians were not the only dangers in the northern woods.  They were being eaten alive by midges. Little red blotches erupted all over their bodies as the greedy bloodsuckers feasted on fresh flesh.  Livius kept them moving through the woods anxious to reach the wagons quickly but keen to avoid detection.  They had left the road an hour since when Livius deemed that they were close enough for Selgovae scouts.

Vibius suddenly looked at Livius and held up his hand.  The auxiliaries halted and they listened.  In the distance they could hear the clamour of iron on metal and the screams of death. Vibius turned. “Right lads, somewhere up ahead, is a column of Brigante women and some barbarian bastards who want their way with them. Let’s show them that the Gauls are here! Open order, half centuries.” Without waiting to see his order carried out the two officers led their men forwards quickly through the woods.  Now that they were no longer in column they moved much more quickly.

Suddenly some horses appeared from the woods to the front, before Vibius could order a defensive position Livius restrained him.  “It’s our men.”

The heaving troopers saluted Livius.  “Sir they have the wagons trapped, about a mile up the trail. They are held up by some warriors in the rocks and they are being attacked on this side by a large warband.” The trooper looked pained. “They are suffering sir.  Things don’t look good.”

“Take the scouts and dislodge the men from the rocks.” They turned and crossed the road.  “Right Vibius we have a mile.  Can we get there in time?”

“Piece of piss sir! Come on ladies, let’s kill some fucking barbarians.”

This time they set off at a healthy jog, and, even though they were not in one line, they all retained the same rhythm of well trained soldiers. Livius and Vibius led them deeper into the woods to enable them to have a broader front for their superior numbers. Livius saw a lightening ahead and knew that they were close.  He was relieved to see the rear of the barbarians as they pressed closer to the wagons. The Gauls hit them silently which proved more effective than sounding a charge for the first thirty warriors fell without knowing why as they waited their turn for battle at the rear of the line.  The half centuries opened to full centuries and gradually overlapped the Selgovae lines.

The deception could not last longer and it was King Tole, sat upon his horse at the front of the onslaught who, turning to urge his men on, saw the waves of Romans slaughtering his men.  They were outnumbered and were between the wagons and the swords, there was but one option, retreat.  “Fall back! We are surrounded!” The men turned and, seeing the Romans charging fled west. 

“After them!” Vibius led his victorious auxiliaries through the forests following the speeding Selgovae.  Livius turned his horse to go to the aid of the column.

Marcus was frustrated at the rear.  His men could hear the conflict ahead but they were the rearguard and no-one was there for them to fight. He was sensible enough to realise that, the minute he left his post then the barbarians would attack the vulnerable rear and, despite his misgivings, he kept to his post.  In the end it proved to be vital as the warband fled south and west, gradually out running the armoured auxiliaries. The first of the Selgovae to emerge were the men on horses led by King Tole and Marcus led his turma straight at him. “The Sword!”

King Tole was stunned as the line of steel rode straight at him.  His nine bodyguards edged ahead of him to form a protective phalanx of bodies around their anointed king.  Marcus deflected the first warrior’s sword on his shield and slashed the sword across the neck of the warrior, his headless corpse riding ghoulishly into the woods.  King Tole suddenly found himself facing the mighty Sword of Cartimandua; the king was a brave man but there seemed something almost palpably magical about the weapon which sliced towards his head. He held his shield above his helmet only to have it shattered by the blow from the blade.  His momentum carried him through the line and he kicked his horse on.  Marcus spun his mount and launched himself after the king.  Tole hunched down and kicked on.  Marcus’ horse had charged a number of times already and was slowing.  “Come on! One last spurt!” Marcus, the horse whisperer nuzzled its mane with his sword hand.  Up above a hunting hawk shrieked and Marcus horse leapt forward and took him within a sword’s length of King Tole.  He slashed down with his blade, it slid from the armoured shoulder down the slide of the king to cut his leg open to the bone. The last effort was all that Marcus mount could manage and King Tole and the last of his warriors escaped. Marcus reined his mount in.  “Well done!” Glancing up at the hawk still circling above he said, “And thank you my brother!”

******

Catuvolcus was not enjoying his night time sentry duty and he was seething with resentment.  In their past incarnation, in Germania, they had enjoyed the luxury of a fort and simple patrols.  This night time work was just that, hard work.  He had been angered by the sudden arrival of the centurion from the Sixth, Quintus Broccus who had been there to ensure that he did have some protection.

The veteran had assessed Catuvolcus the moment he had seen him. Prefect Livius was an example of the new breed of auxilia, adaptive and yet conforming to the disciplines of the army.  Catuvolcus was the old fashioned auxilia, clinging to their idiosyncratic dress rather than the efficient uniform and arms of the Roman army.  That attitude transmitted itself to tactics and Quintus worried that the Gauls might take it into their heads to charge off after a hare!

“Glad to see you Decurion.  The Prefect told me you had the picket duty. Have you seen anything?”

“There is nothing to see.  These barbarians are safe in their huts while we freeze in this forsaken land.”

“Such is the lot of the Roman Army on the frontier.” Against his better judgement Quintus offered an olive branch. “When dawn breaks, if you would like to come to our camp we will have some hot food for you.”

“Bread and porridge? Thank you for the offer but we will forage ourselves.”

It was an ungracious answer but at least the centurion had made the offer. “Do not stray too close to the barbarians.  We want peace here while we build.” The Gaul did not say a word but his expression told Quintus that the Decurion cared little for the peace of the Sixth. Quintus left without a goodbye.  If they wanted such coldness then so be it.  The Sixth could manage just as well alone.

The night darkened and it grew colder.  His line of pickets began chuntering and mumbling to themselves. Catuvolcus sympathised with each and every moan. As the moon rose and the temperature dropped even more their spirits sank even lower. One of the outlying guards came in to speak to Catuvolcus, a greedy and lascivious look on his face.  “There is a hut in the woods.  They have a fire and they have food.”

Remembering the debacle at the charcoal burners Catuvolcus was cautious. “Any sign of warriors?”

“None.  I scouted around for half a mile.”

His second in command leaned over, “We could say we heard the noise of warriors and had to investigate.  If this is a lonely hut then no-one will know.”

That convinced Catuvolcus, it seemed eminently plausible and he led the fifteen man patrol as they followed the scout. He was now a cautious Gaul and the Decurion had his men ride all the way around the hut to ensure that it was isolated.  Leaving five men to guard the horses and keep watch the others approached the hut.  The latent heat from the hut warmed them even as they approached and hardened their resolve. They would take whatever these people had, including the women.

Inside the hut were the woodcutter, his wife and his two daughters.  His son, Aed, was away with the king, training to be a warrior and the two girls had had to take on much of the work of their older brother.  The result was that all four were sound asleep as the Gauls slipped in through the wattle entrance. They had not seen the old dog which slept by the fire and as they crept in, it growled. Alert in an instant, the wood cutter leapt to his feet.  A powerful man he took up his axe and, seeing figures in the hut hacked at them. The first trooper looked down at his entrails as they oozed on to the floor and he dropped, silently dead. A second Gaul saw the blow coming which split his skull open like a melon but could not react. Catuvolcus ended the brave woodcutter’s defence with a sword to the throat. The women did not scream, or cry or flee, they were hard Votadini women and they would fight for their land.  They fell upon the remaining troopers, biting and scratching, kicking and gouging.  The younger girl pulled a knife from beneath her pallet and slashed at the face of the Gaul who was trying to subdue her.  With a mighty punch he rendered her unconscious. The remaining two women were overpowered by the remaining Gauls who looked at the three helpless women.  Without a word the Gallic troopers spread the legs of the victims and ruthlessly raped them, including the young girl who lay unconscious. With their lust satisfied Catuvolcus nodded and the throats of the three of them were cut.

“Get whatever food there is and then we get out.” He nodded to the scout who had found the hut.  “When we are out, burn it.” The man looked at him with an uncomprehending expression. “We leave no evidence!”

As dawn was breaking they rode away from the burning hut, a glow in the dark and dim forest. They were leading the two mounts of the dead troopers whose bodies now burned with their victims. Catuvolcus turned to his men. “Remember we were attacked by a large band of barbarians.  But we fought bravely and escaped with our lives.” The Gauls nodded. “We go back to our picket line and then return to our fort when the sun rises.  No-one will know of this.”

Someone did know for Aed arrived soon after dawn.  His warband was camped close by and he wanted the opportunity to see his family and show them his new sword and shield.  When he saw the thick pall of smoke he began to worry and as he closed he began to fear.  Finally he ran as hard as he could to the home which was now a charred shell. He quickly found the bodies of his family and then started when he saw the other two bodies.  The uniforms were still recognisable, Romans.

******

When the column of wagons finally reached Rocky Point the troopers were at the point of exhaustion.  Their mounts would need a long period of rest and recuperation to be back to their fighting best. As Livius sat, with Vibius and Julius at his side, watching the weary troopers trudge in to the fort he just hoped that the barbarians would give them a breathing space over the winter.  They needed time to enlist both men and horses.

He turned to the Legate. “Well sir at least we know that we have sent King Tole home with his tail between his legs.”

“As long as King Lugubelenus and the Votadini are quiet then I shan’t complain. Did you say that the Sixth were here already?”

“Yes sir, I met their Centurion.  He seems sound.  They have begun their camp and we are hoping to start the limes in the next few days.”

“That should give us time to send the women and children back to Morbium and use the wagons to return with some stone. I know that it is a hard question to ask but can you escort the wagons?”

Looking at the troopers and their horses he was not sure. “If the frontier is quiet then we may get away with two turma, perhaps Macro and…”

“Metellus!”

The Legate was so quick with his suggestion that Livius looked at him askance. “Why Metellus, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Julius had a cheeky smile playing about the corners of his mouth. “Let us just say that romance may be in the air.”He nodded to the wagon containing Nanna which had just entered the fort, Metellus was helping her down and, even at thirty paces distance Livius could see the flirting. “I have learned, as I get older, to keep quiet and to watch.  You learn much more that way.” He looked as Marcus came into the fort, saluting them. “I agree with you about Marcus, he will need to see his mother and brother and then they can grieve properly.”

Vibius had noticed the warrior and his sword. “He is a game ‘un though isn’t he? I am glad he is on our side and those men of his.  How does he get them all so fired up?”

“You see that sword?  They all swore a blood oath to it.”

Vibius’ eyes opened at that. “I haven’t heard of a blood oath since…”

Julius finished it for him, “Since you left Gaul and joined up.”

“Yes sir. It is good to know that the traditions haven’t died out.  That explains a great deal.”

“And as for being a game warrior. If you had known his brother Macro then you would have seen someone who could outdo Marcus.”

“Is he the one your lads were talking about?  The one who was killed…”

“By his sister, just after he had killed their mother?  Yes.”

“Interesting people you meet up here on the frontier.  I can see that my life will become far less dull in the future.  And if you will excuse me sir I would like to get my lads back to the camp, it is nearly finished, but not quite.  I would hate to get caught out if the Votadini start anything.”

While the stocky Gaul stomped off, relieved to be off his horse Julius dismounted. “What is he like?”

“He is the opposite of his mounted counterpart.  He’ll be fine.  Let us put it this way, I think he will be reliable and sound.  You can ask for little more.”