Hosker, G [Sword of Cartimandua 04] Roman Retreat (12 page)

“Come back soon.”

“I shall.”

Inside the farm Gaelwyn was drinking his evening special, as he liked to call it. He looked at Ailis thoughtfully. “That girl reminds me of someone but I can’t quite place her.”

“She is beautiful uncle. Perhaps she is the woman you always wanted.”

Gaelwyn snorted. “She is pretty but there is something about her. It is the eyes and the hair.  There is something. Something about the girl reminds me. That is the trouble with getting old…”

The next day Macro, Livius and the Tribune began their journey north. They had with them the last one hundred trainees for the ala. As Livius nursed his bruises he reflected how lucky he had been. From the conversations he overheard Macro was the greatest warrior in Britannia and he had had the audacity to think he could defeat him.  As they headed to Coriosopitum he determined to learn from the mercurial Macro and become a better warrior.

The change in Livius had not gone unnoticed by Marcus. It reminded him of the change in Julius Demetrius once Decius had effected the changes. Perhaps his legacy was greater than he thought. Perhaps Ulpius Felix had changed them all in some mysterious way that only the Allfather could understand. He looked forward to sharing an amphora of Gaulish win with Decius and discussing the philosophy of leadership.  He laughed to himself. He knew what Decius’ reaction would be. ‘Bollocks!”

Coriosopitum was one of the largest establishments Macro had seen.  Decius snorted. “You want to see what the Tribune is building further north. There are forts and a town. Tribunes Sura and Furius have big ideas for this land.”

Marcus nodded.  Although just beyond the are of his influence it would provide a buffer should the Caledonii and Pictii move south. “And what of your role Decius? Is it what you envisaged?”

“No! But then I never really saw the role. I couldn’t have done this job ten years ago but now? I think I have grown into it.  I won’t say I don’t miss the fighting but then again I don’t have some hairy arsed barbarians trying to make a necklace of my bollocks do I?”Marcus and Macro burst out laughing whilst Livius stood shocked. “Besides which you and I were getting too old for fighting.  You slow yup and that is the problem with barbarians, there are always younger ones coming through.  And speaking of young warriors, who is this?”

“Prefect Flavius this is Livius Lucullus my aide, the Governor’s nephew.”

“Pleased to meet you sunshine.”

“Don’t worry Livius this is as bad as it gets. The rest are pussycats by comparison.”

“Too right Macro.  They broke the mould when they made me. I don’t know about you but I could do with a skinful.”

“Livius we will now test your ability to drink and I hope it is better than your ability with a sword.”

Marcus shook his head, “Macro I now know why we never made you Prefect. You have the diplomatic skill of Venutius on a bad day!”

“And I second that Tribune. Give him a barbarian at the end of his sword and he is the best man you could have; anything else and he is fucked.”

Macro beamed, “I won’t argue with you two older men.  All I can say is … you are right. Now let us get pissed.”

Livius found a smile creeping across his face. It looked like he was going to get the adventure he had always desired.

On the ride north Macro told the Tribune about Morwenna.  As soon as he began to tell of their courtship Marcus knew that the young man was smitten. “And where does she come from?”

“Her family are Carvetii and lived in the lands to the north of Glanibanta.”

“And she with red hair? I suspect she has some of the raiders from the islands in her blood.”

Macro nodded, “Her family were killed and her brothers enslaved by the wild men.”

Livius looked perplexed. “The wild men? The islands?”

“Ah yes Livius you would not know of these things coming from the south east.  There are islands to the west and the people’s there have never fought Rome.  They love to fight either amongst themselves or in the odd time of peace they raid the west coast of Britannia and Caledonia.”

“Does Rome not have forts to the west?”

Marcus shook his head.  “No. We had one at Glanibanta but that one was abandoned. There is one fort at Luguvalium but that is there mainly to stop Caledonii raids.”

“Are we close to Caledonia?” the young aide peered around nervously.

Macro smiled. “No this is the land of the Votadini but the people around here have not been pacified long. The Tribune and I fought many battles against them.”

“Are we safe?”

Marcus shook his head. “Once you cross the Dunum you are in danger.  Luckily we can now move from fort to fort otherwise you would have the pleasure of building a camp each night.”

“And believe me Livius that would soon give you muscles like these.” Macro flexed his arm which to Livius looked as big as a leg.

“Where is the next fort then?”

Macro looked at Marcus, “Isn’t there one eight miles or so north of here. I think it is a small one.”

“Yes. I came south on a ship last time but I believe there is a century fort on the Alavunus estuary.”

“Good they have nice fish there.”

“Always thinking of your stomach eh Macro.”

“If I don’t who will?”

All thoughts of food disappeared as they emerged from the forest south of the fort. They could see the spirals of smoke drifting up in the clear late winter evening. Macro gave the order as soon as they saw it. “Stand to.”

Livius looked around as he heard the young recruits slide their javelins out and shoulder their shields. “What is it Tribune?”

“Danger Livius.  That is the fort and it is burning or burnt.” He nodded at Macro who was waiting to take charge. Marcus deferred to the Decurion for the recruits would follow better the man who had trained them.

“Right lads it looks like we are going to get a little action earlier than I had hoped.  The first four troopers, “he pointed at them to ensure they knew who they were, “you will ride parallel to us about half a mile to our right. For those who are confused that is the bit nearest the sea.” The humour slightly relaxed the tension. “The next four do the same to our left.  You will ride in single file and your job is to warn us of an ambush. If you see or hear anything then return to us.  We are the mother hen right? And mother does not want to lose her chicks. Now get into position and remember anyone who is not one of us is an enemy.  Strike first and ask questions later.” As they rode away Macro addressed the rest. “We are going to ride in a column of fours. When I signal the fours will join up so that we have three lines. That clear?” They nodded nervously. “Listen for me or the Tribune to give orders and whatever we say do it.  That way you might live. Now follow us. Livius you ride with the Tribune.”

Macro led them out. Livius leaned over to Marcus as they rode. “Don’t you outrank him sir?”

“Not on a battlefield.  You will learn that rank means nothing out here.  What is more important is ability and Macro has that.  Now you watch to your left.  You see anything untoward you yell.”

The closer to the fort that they got the more the damage was apparent.  The small fort had been burned to the ground. The grisly remains of the garrison could be seen spread-eagled against the trees or mounted on spears. Behind him Livius heard a trooper vomit and he fought to keep down the last meal he had eaten. Macro held up his hand and shouted over his should, “First four follow me.” As the five men entered Marcus glanced to the left and right and was happy to see the eight outriders heading for them. “See anything. The eight men shook their heads.

“We could see where they had left sir. Over that way.” One of the troopers pointed west.

“Good that helps.  You eight form a picket line a mile up the trail. We’ll send for you when we have stabilised the situation.”

As they rode off Livius asked, “Stabilised the situation?”

“Buried the bodies and cleared the fort.”

Macro came out and waved them forward. Inside the scene was even worse. The eighty auxiliaries were all accounted for but their bodies were not whole. Each soldier had been tortured if alive or desecrated if dead. “Looks like they got in over the walls sir, either that or someone let them in for the gate was open.”

“Any of their dead?”

“Not a sign.”

“So it could have been anybody.”

“Looks like it.”

“They left west. I sent eight of your lads as a picket line.”

“If I had my turma we could find the bastards and… but as it is…”

“As it is we will bury our dead, secure the fort and give our recruits,” he emphasised the word, “the chance to learn how to survive in hostile territory.”

“Yes sir.”

It was sombre group of recruits who went to sleep that night. The palisade had been rebuilt and a third of them were on duty. Marcus and Macro had drawn Livius to one side. “We will each take a turn at sentry.  The most dangerous time will be in the dark hours of night. You Livius will take charge while the Decurion and I sleep. You will awake me in three hours. I have given you one third of the men as your watch.”

Livius looked confused. “Three hours but how…”

Macro pointed to the skyline. “When the moon is there. Listen you will have to watch over these men carefully.  They will jump at shadows.  Look for movement. Keep the fire tended but tell your men not to look at it and stay in the shadows so that they are not illuminated in its light.”

“Do you think they will come?”

“Oh they will come but they will probably wait until the dark hours of the night when they think we are at our least vigilant.”

“When you and the Tribune will be on guard.” Macro nodded. “Good for there will come a time when I will take the dangerous watch and you will be able to sleep.”

Macro ruffled the boy’s hair.  “That’s the spirit.”

Macro was right.  They came an hour after Macro had fallen asleep.  The young recruit came over to the Tribune. “Sir I thought I saw something over there.”

Marcus went with him and peered into the bloom of the undergrowth. Despite the warrior’s attempt to hide there was just enough white for Marcus to identify him.  “Good man. Alert the other sentries.” Marcus crept over to Macro who was awake in an instant. The Tribune did not need to say a word and the Decurion went around his watch waking them. Livius took two shakes to awaken him and Marcus held his hand over his mouth. “Wake your watch.  They are here.” His eyes wide with fear and excitement the aide nodded.

Marcus noted that Macro already had his bow ready and the fire arrow was ready for ignition. “I’ve been around the lads and told them to be on guard.  I have four men holding the horses.  Wouldn’t do to be afoot here.” Marcus slid his blade from its scabbard, and hefted the borrowed shield on his left. It was some time since he had fought in such a small action he wondered if he would be up to it. His reflexes had not been tested for some time. This could be the night he went to the Allfather and spoke again with Ulpius. He kissed the hilt of his sword.  It was not the sword of Cartimandua but it was a good blade, a spatha and he would use it well.

The arrow slammed into his shield and almost made the seasoned soldier jump. “Here they come.” He nodded to Marco who ignited the arrow and shot it into the air.  It plummeted down in the dead wood and brush the men had placed fifty paces from the perimeter.   Suddenly it was as though it was daylight. Some eight or ten warriors were caught on the wood and were burning. There were others between the fire and the wall.

One in two recruits had bows and Macro yelled, “Loose!” Although their aim was not as good as experienced auxiliaries they still brought down some warriors and soon they were loading and shooting as fast as they could. Macro was choosing his targets carefully, aiming for any sign of leadership or armour.  Even so the enraged warriors made the palisade and the bows were laid down. The first javelins were hurled at ten paces and the second held by the besieged young troopers to stab down at the barbarians now baying for blood.  Their lack of training showed itself as some of them exposed too much of their bodies in their desperation to get to grips with their enemies and died as the Votadini took advantage of the mistake.

“Protect yourselves with shields! Do not give them an opening.”

Livius was terrified with fear.  He had not anticipated a battle would be like this.  He had pictured himself in hand to hand combat with an enemy and using his skill to kill him.  Here he could not see where the enemy was coming from and they appeared so quickly.

Suddenly two warriors boosted one of their fellows over the palisade. Although the two died, an enemy was in the camp. He quickly killed one startled recruit and then hacked down another. Marcus was on him in a moment. Years of training took over and he punched him with the boss of the shield and then sliced diagonally down to hit the unprotected neck. Soon there were more warriors inside the camp and it became a series of hand to hand combats. Macro was a Colossus and seemed to bring death wherever he strode. Livius found himself facing a powerful warrior who was using a short hand axe and a short sword. Livius was like a frightened rabbit and he glanced from axe to sword and back. The warrior sensed his indecision and grinned evilly. He feinted with the axe and when Livius reacted sliced upwards with his sword. The trick nearly worked and, were it not for his youth and quick reactions, he would have died.  As it was the razor sharp blade sliced across his shield arm and Livius saw with horror his own blood.  He almost panicked and then he heard the Tribune. “Hit him with the shield and then go for the gut!”

Without thinking Livius obeyed. The Votadini warrior had been going in for the kill and the blow with the shield made him spin, lose his balance and fall to the ground. Livius almost tripped over him but managed, somehow to bring the blade down and into the man’s guts. The force was so hard that the blade became embedded in the ground.

“Look out!”

Livius rolled away as the sword from behind hit into empty air. The bearded warrior was just about to finish off the helpless aide when Marcus sliced his head off in one movement. That was the last action of the short but fiercely fought battle.  The remaining warriors fled to the west as the first rays of dawn peeped over the sea from the east. Macro went to his horse and picked three uninjured recruits to go with him. They galloped off after the warriors; Macro firing arrows as soon as he left the palisade.