Roman Courage, page 24
part #13 of Sword of Cartimandua Series
“I only have twenty fit troopers and horses, sir.”
“I know. Decurion Stolo has a full troop. Fifty men should be enough.”
Marcus nodded, “We were ambushed on this side of the ridge, sir.”
“I know. That will be the extent of our patrol. It is the Lingones you will need to protect. We can get out of trouble quickly. They move slowly and the Votadini are fast.”
Marcus went to the barracks and sought out Vexillarius Ralle. He had become, in effect, Marcus’ Chosen Man. “Pick the fittest twenty troopers and horses, Manius, we are on call tomorrow. We and the Fifteenth are the reserves.”
He nodded, “They will all want to go, sir. They think you are lucky!”
“Lucky? We got ambushed today!”
“And you got us out of it. These Votadini all have coins, bracelets and the like. The lads are doing well out of it. Some of the other turma wish you were their officer.”
“I appreciate the vote of confidence but this time next year I shan’t be here. I will be back with my ala.”
“Aye sir, and more’s the pity.”
There was an air of anxiety the next morning as eight turmae prepared to ride out. Few had full complements. Marcus went to the gatehouse to watch them leave. He saw the Lingone patrol parade before the fort as they began their patrols. One century would head north and the other south. As usual they took axes with them so that they could clear more trees. In theory, every patrol made them a little safer. Marcus wondered at the wisdom of sending a century north when there would be no horsemen there.
It was the third turma which was on duty and Marcus said to Decurion Macula, “Anything unusual, Aulus, let me know. The Votadini are up to something.”
“Will do.”
The turmae who were in reserve were in the parade ground. All of them were examining their horses and saddles. A loose girth could be fatal! Decurion Stolo approached Marcus. “Do you think we will be needed today?”
“Let us say I hope not but I expect that we will be needed. Every patrol was ambushed yesterday. The same will happen today. When we ride we will need to be quick and decisive.”
He nodded, “I think I have learned, Marcus. Thanks for being so patient with me. I must have been annoying when we first met.”
Marcus laughed, “You were young. We all have to learn. The trouble here is that the lessons are paid for in blood and death.”
The barbarians had watched the auxiliaries and seen their routine. They knew that when they stopped and twenty took off their helmets that they were about to hew down trees. They had also counted the two hundred and fifty horsemen who had ridden to patrol. The leader of the warband, Seisyll, deemed the risk worth taking. They had shadowed the patrol and kept deep in the woods. The sound of the hobnails marked the movement of the auxiliaries. When the marching stopped and the orders were shouted Seisyll raised his arm. He and his men had no intention of fighting a battle, their aim was to inflict as many casualties as they could. The twenty men without helmets and holding axes were an easy target. As the twenty men advanced to the woods another forty spread out to watch the trees. The slingers and archers targeted the twenty axemen and more than half fell. A second volley hit another four and six of those supporting them.
“Sound the buccina! Shields!”
The centurion took the correct action. Firstly, he had to present a solid wall of shields. Then he would assess the enemy and finally he would attack.
In the fort Marcus heard the buccina. Decurion Macula shouted, “Stand to! Patrol to the north is being attacked.” In truth the Decurion could not see the fighting but he could hear the sound of battle. He could hear the cries of the wounded and the dying.
Marcus vaulted onto the back of his horse. He turned to Decurion Stolo. “Ride to the aid of the century on the road. I will take my turma and cut them off!”
The sentries opened the gates and they galloped out. Without seeing the ambush Marcus knew that the Lingones would be able to defend themselves. The arrival of Decurion Stolo’s turma would make the enemy run. Their camp lay to the south west and Marcus wanted to catch as many of them as he could. When they reached the road, he saw that the century had a shield wall and the barbarians, having seen the Fifteenth Turma hurtling up the road were melting into the forest. They galloped across the road and leapt into the river. It was shallow enough for horses to ford. Raven took it so well that she made the other bank in just two strides. The Votadini on foot, could be seen, further north. They were slower at crossing the river. It came up to their chests. Their bow strings would be soaked. Once they reached the thin trees before the forest proper began Marcus headed north. He only had twenty men with him but they knew their business.
“Spread out and get as many as you can. Do not pursue them into the forest.”
As he looked north Marcus saw that Decurion Stolo had grown. His turma was also leaping into the river and they were herding the Votadini towards Marcus.
Seisyll realised he had made a mistake. The line of horsemen heading towards his men would hit them. He could have ordered them to make a shield wall but only half had shields. He shouted, “Every man for himself. Run!”
It was the last thing he said. Vexillarius Ralle’s javelin struck him in the chest. The death of their leader made the young warriors panic. They ran hither and thither. The fifty horsemen hurled their javelins and then used their swords. When Marcus could see no more foes he shouted, “Sound the recall!”
While his men made certain that all of the Votadini had been slain, Marcus joined Decurion Stolo and the Lingone centurion. “Well done, Servius. You handled your men well.”
“Thank you, Marcus.”
The centurion nodded his thanks too, “And I am grateful to you both. They could not hurt us more but you wrought vengeance upon them. I have lost good men today.”
“We will wait here while you take your dead back to the fort.”
When the other patrols came in all had lost men. Others had been wounded. Their casualties were not serious but the attacks were worrying. That night they had even more sentries on the walls.
Deep in the forest Randel was pleased with their attacks. They had weakened the Romans. The warriors they had lost had been expendable. They were young and inexperienced. The heart of the warband, the veterans, armed and mailed like Romans, remained intact. Two hundred and fifty of them had mail shirts. Another five hundred were seasoned, hardened warriors. They were the ones who had destroyed Habitancvm. They were the ones who had ambushed the auxiliaries. They were the best.
“Tomorrow night we attack. I want every warrior deep in the forest tonight in case they decide to come in after us. By late afternoon, when the patrols have returned to their forts every warrior will be in position ready to attack. Today and yesterday we did well. The fort to the south lost forty men and the ones close by lost another forty. We can replace our losses. Thanks to the attacks in the south the Romans cannot reinforce.”
The Legate and his garrisons had endured night time attacks as well as attacks on the road. Those Brigante who supported Rome and the soldiers who had retired there had been attacked. Farms had been burned and families butchered. The Legate was not happy.
“It is time that we took the offensive. The good news is that the Tungrians have finally left Morbium and they will be here tomorrow. I want the forts at Broccolitia, Onnum and Cilurnum to send a cohort each to Vinovia. I intend to sweep south to Stanwyck. My spies tell me that is where Chief Haerviu hatches his plots. We will cut off the head of the snake and we will destroy his hill fort.”
First Spear nodded, “And the Legion?”
“I will take the Second and Third cohorts south to Vinovia. When the Tungrian Cohort arrives, you take the First north. Have the Gauls, Lingones and Ala Petriana join you and sweep into the forest. This insidious insurrection is bleeding us dry. Trade has stopped and people are losing faith in the Pax Romana!” He handed a wax tablet to the First Spear. “Here are my orders.”
As the day dawned the garrisons on the wall were on the move. They were heading south. Along the road the Gauls, Lingones and Ala Petriana marched up and down the Via Trajan. They watched and waited for an attack which never materialised.
Vexillarius Ralle commented, as they parted from their gallic counterparts, “I tell you this sir. This road is well named!”
“Via Trajan? He was just the Emperor who named it.”
“No sir, not the official name; the name every soldier in the north used, Via Hades, the road to hell!”
Chapter 17
Bremenium
As the patrols returned, unscathed, there was a strange atmosphere in both forts. Although they were pleased that they had not lost men the fact that the Votadini had not attacked had them all perplexed. For once the Prefect seemed unsure of his plans for the next day. Unusually for him he called a meeting of his officers. For the autocratic officer this was a rare departure from the rules and regulations he lived by.
“Have we beaten them? Were the attacks of the past few days the insurrection?”
Decurion Scaura said, “We hurt them sir. They have lost men in every attack. Perhaps we have torn the heart out of them.”
Marcus shook his head, “I spoke with the Lingones who have been going into the woods to cut down trees, sir. They tell me that they have seen the tracks of many hundreds of men heading into the forest. They were easier to see when there was snow on the ground but they saw them. The fact that they were not hiding their numbers shows their confidence. They are in the forest.”
Decurion Princeps Pera said, “Decurion Aurelius is right, sir. When was the last time we killed one of them wearing a mail shirt? Carrying one of our shields? They have all been boys. We might have lost less numbers than they did but the numbers we lost were more valuable than the slingers and archers.”
The Prefect sighed, “You may be right, Decurion Princeps but why no attack today?”
“If I was to hazard a guess I would say because they intend a bigger attack in the next couple of days.”
“Then we stick to the routine we have had. Double watch tonight and double patrols tomorrow. I know it is taking its toll on the horses but that can’t be helped.”
Coriosopitum
First Spear had briefed Centurion Buteo. “We will be leaving first thing in the morning. Your men can guard the fort. I know your lads will be tired but with the legion heading north and south you should have an easy time of it.”
“Don’t worry about us First Spear. I was convinced that we would be in the Otherworld when the Prefect and our First Spear died. All of the lads did. For us this is as though we have been reborn. A night standing a watch on the walls is nothing. The ones we left behind would trade what they have for it in a heartbeat.”
Morbium
The Legate gathered his officers together. He had three cohorts of auxiliaries and two cohorts of the VIth. He had just one turma of cavalry and they would have to do the work of an ala. He was ready to march south. They had just three miles to go. The Vangione turma was already in position across the road two miles south. Their task was to be a screen and prevent the Brigante from discovering that a huge force of Romans was ready to pounce.
“We are going to catch the Brigante unawares. There will be no buccina. We will use hand signals. We need to have complete surprise. Our one turma of Vangiones will have to catch and kill any sentries they find. We surround the hill fort and end this insurrection here and now. Then we can march north and deal with the more serious problem there.”
Stanwyck
Chief Haerviu was pleased with the offensive thus far. A messenger had arrived from Randel and Agnathus telling him that the attack on the four Roman forts would be at dark of moon. That suited Chief Haerviu. He had two thousand warriors in the hillfort and they were ready to strike at Morbium, Vinovia and Longovicium. They had weakened Morbium and the last news they had had from the vicus, two days ago was that the cohort they had attacked had moved north to Coriosopitum. The Votadini attack would mean that no Romans would be able to relieve any of the forts he and his men planned to attack! When the Sword of Cartimandua was in his hands he would be King of the Brigante! The Romans thought they had defeated them but Chief Haerviu had yet to unleash the full force of the men gathered at the hill fort.
The forest close by Bremenium and Habitancvm
Brennus and his men crouched by the edge of the forest. All of them had blackened their faces, arms, legs and in some cases, chests. He was keen to get across the road and begin to work their way closer to the Roman walls but he knew they had to wait until half way through the night. The sentries would be tiring. He had a hundred warriors who had mail shirts, helmets and shields. He had another two hundred who had a shield and helmet. The ones who were less experienced would carry the bridging ladders. In the half darkness of dusk, he identified the position of the bolt throwers and their crews. He crept down the edge of the forest and pointed them out to the slingers and archers who would follow. Their job was simple. They would kill the crews of the bolt throwers.
Randel was close by the Lingone fort. Teutorigos was leading the attack in the ala fort. The War Chief was more strategically minded than both Brennus and Teutorigos. He had gone over the attack with his lieutenants time and time again while they had been in their forest fortress. He did not need to tell his men whom they should target. They could identify the threat for themselves. He closed his eyes and thought back to his wife and family. He had kept their faces from his mind until now. He needed the added hatred that their untimely death had created. His wife had taken her life and that of his family but the Romans had caused it. He had kept his anger hidden. Now, with battle about to begin he dragged it to the surface. When the forts were razed to the ground and every Roman slain then Olwen and his family would be avenged. The Roman armour he wore, the sword and shield he carried and the helmet upon his head were reminders of the enemy and what they had done to him. When the forts were gone then he would discard the Roman trappings. With the land of the Votadini free he would need them no longer.
He opened his eyes and looked at the sky. It was black. The gods were on their side. He crouched and began to move towards the road. The many hundreds of men rose as one with him. They were in awe of their War Chief. He had killed Creagh and everyone knew he had been the greatest Votadini champion. The fact that he had also defeated Creagh’s treachery and avenged King Clutha merely added to his aura. None would dare to let him down.
The warriors with the broad ladders had reached the ditches and laid them down. One of the two men who had carried them crawled across to hold them safe on the far side. The first ones to follow them were the ones carrying the ladders for the second ditches. Randel nodded to the warrior who commanded the slingers and archers. They would crouch by the ditches and they would listen for the sound of alarm. When it was heard then they would clear the men manning the bolt throwers.
Randel crawled like a child first learning to move across the wooden bridge. It was undignified but necessary. He kept crawling and began to move across the second ditch. He could hear the Lingones talking on the fighting platform above him. He did not understand the words but the tone suggested that they were not alarmed. His mailed men all made it across and then the alarm was given. It was Teutorigos and his men who had made a noise and the sentries in the ala fort had heard. Above him, at the Lingones’ fort, he heard orders being shouted and then there was the crack of stones and the sound of arrows. Cries from above him told him that the bolt thrower crews had died.
He stepped onto the shield held by his two tallest men and they lifted him up to the wall. A Lingone raised his javelin to end the life of the War Chief and an arrow knocked him into the fort. Randel sprang over the top of the wooden palisade and brought his sword across the head of the optio who raced to repel the attackers. The whole of the wall was filled with Randel’s mailed men. The Lingones hesitated for in the dark they could not tell friend from foe.
First Spear was only half asleep. When he heard the alarm, it was like a recurring bad dream. He grabbed his shield and his sword. As he stepped out of his quarters he saw the rest of the garrison. They were running to the walls. He shouted, “Lingones! Shield wall!” He knew that they needed a solid, disciplined wall of men. The barbarians might be wearing Roman mail but they had no discipline. “Second Century, guard the gate! Third Century, support the west wall! Fourth Century support the south wall. He had six centuries left. They were in four lines and filled the parade ground. Raising his sword, he shouted, “Forward!”
On the fighting platform Randel was confused. Why were the Romans not racing to the walls? They were dressing their lines and marching forward. This was not the way he had envisaged the attack going. They had attained their first objective. The west wall was in their hands. That part had gone well but the bolt throwers from the horse fort had stopped his men from attacking the north wall. The plan had not gone smoothly but two of the walls were his. Now he needed the gate.
The Decurion Princeps had been on duty when the attack began. It was he who smelled the barbarians. Marcus had told him of the smell of the Votadini and now he had learned to recognise it. He had gone to the edge of the wall and seen a movement. None of his men were outside and he had hurled his javelin at the man who appeared to be crawling across a ladder. When the man screamed he knew there was an attack.
“Stand to!”
Teutorigos had not managed to get men across the ladder. The bolt throwers and the javelins of the four turmae on duty hit the mailed warriors who were approaching the ladders. Some panicked and ran. The ladders were meant to be crawled upon and they would not bear the weight of a large number of mailed men running across them. Two ladders broke, throwing the warriors to the sharpened stakes below. Teutorigos was luckier than most of his men. He made the wall. As he looked up Decurion Princeps Pera hurled a javelin. It hit him in the face. He fell backwards and was impaled on a stake. The ala fort was larger than the Lingones fort and Teutorigos’ men faced more troopers. Had the Decurion Princeps not spotted the warrior things might have been different. The Votadini attack relied on them getting inside the range of the bolt throwers before the alarm was given. Teutorigos had failed. His men now had fewer bridges across the ditch and there were more than two hundred men facing them. The bolt throwers kept up a steady rate of bolts and the mass of men trying to get to the remaining bridges died.
