Hosker, G [Sword of Cartimandua 06] Druid's Gold (32 page)

She mounted her white horse her druidic and Irish bodyguards surrounding her like a phalanx of steel. Tadgh raised his sword and the army moved like an enormous snake towards the Romans who still appeared to be abed, still asleep and still unaware that death was hunting them.

*

The Roman camp was anything but abed.  Every man was already dressed and had been fed for some time.  Prefect Fulvius knew the value of an army which had a full stomach and the cooks had made cauldrons of hot food the previous night and it was still warm in the cold early hours. They had deliberately camped early so that the men could get some rest before their early awakening. Every century was collecting the caltrops and lillia which would litter the ground before them.  The auxiliaries were packing their quivers as full as possible of arrows for they were the rain which would dampen the Queen’s parade.

As each century was equipped they left by the Porta Decumana to take up their positions on the low ridge which overlooked the camp.  Livius’ Explorates had established that there were no enemy scouts there and the lethal bolt throwers were already in position.  The centuries lined the ridge below them.

The Prefect and Livius stood with First Spear watching the silent centuries calmly take their positions on the gentle ridge below the scorpions. “This is the hard part eh First Spear?  The waiting?”

First Spear shook his head at the idiocy of the prefect’s comment.  “With due respect Prefect the worst part is when you are nose to nose with a tattooed hairy arsed barbarian who is trying to disembowel you.  The lads down there will take this every day of the week and twice on their day off.”

“Quite.” The Prefect, who had never fought in a shield wall, was perplexed.

“I think what the prefect means is this is the worst time for us waiting to see have we made the correct decision and plans.”

“Exactly decurion.  Quite the point I intended to make.”

“Ah well that could be true. If they don’t bother attacking us and just take Eboracum then we have lost.  The fortress controls the main road north.”

“That was my worry but I want to destroy this army sooner rather than later and we will have to destroy it First Spear.”

“Even if she does capture Eboracum sir, and from what you said about the depleted garrison I think you may be right, it doesn’t matter.  We can just get the engineers to build some ballistae and pound the walls down.  The barbarians do not have the mentality to fight behind barriers.  They think it is womanish to fight behind a shield or a wall. They like to get at you man to man.”

“So you are saying First Spear, that I could be right?”

Winking at Livius he replied, “What I am saying sir is I hope you are right or my lads’ guts will be spread over this field and Rome will have lost.”

Livius pointed at the fort, now largely deserted apart from the smoke form the camp kitchen, giving the illusion that it was still occupied. “They will either waste time attacking the fort or be channelled across your front.”

“Hopefully the latter but that largely depends upon you and your men Decurion Sallustius.” The Prefect became serious.  “I realise I am putting a large burden on your shoulders but if you can enrage them and draw them into our arrows before they are ready then I believe we will succeed.”

“I can I am sure but that means that you will have to hold for a long morning until the reinforcements arrive.”

“I know but it is like the Queen’s world, all magic.  We make them think they can win against our small numbers and crush them at just the right moment.”

First Spear coughed.  “And speaking of time decurion….”

“Yes I know. It is time to go.”

First Spear clasped Livius’ arm firmly, “May the Allfather watch over you and your men.”

The rest of the Explorates were waiting looking far more military than normal. They all wore the helmets with the red horsehair crest and had their red cloaks over their shoulders. Their shields had been burnished and each man held three javelins.  Proudest of all was Cassius holding the swallow tailed standard of Marcus’ Horse. He looked at the men before him and felt pride fill his throat.  There were but nineteen in total; Decius, Drusus, Marius and the others would have helped swelling their numbers to twenty four but they could still make a show.  If Morwenna and the Brigante thought that Marcus’ Horse had reformed they would do all in their power to destroy them but the real attraction and the real bait was in the scabbard hanging from his side. The two boys had spent all night polishing the razor sharp blade and burnishing the metal on the scabbard.  It now gleamed and sparkled in the early sun just rising behind them.

“Men we are, for one day only, Marcus’ Horse again.  But understand me we are not here to fight.  We are here to make them charge us. Ovidius and Rufius, yours will be the hardest of roles for you will be the last pair and the pair closest to the enemy are you prepared?”

Rufius nodded holding up his bow.  “As you ordered we have no javelins just bows.”

“Good.  You are the best two shots we have,” he heard a snort and realised that Macro and Marcus Gaius were close by, “the best two shots we have who are soldiers I should say.” The men laughed for they had all become fond of the two boys who had endeared themselves to the Explorates with their energy and enthusiasm not to say their courage as recounted by Rufius. “It may be that you can emulate young Macro and fire backwards from the saddle.” he became serious. “Remember the field before the ridge is sown with caltrops.  We will need to ride parallel to the front and only wheel on my command.  It will expose us to their archers.”

Cassius snorted in derision. “I have seen their archers and they couldn’t hit a barn door.”

“Yes Cassius but all they need is a lucky hit on a horse and that could spell disaster. Daylight is here.  Let us ride.”

He was gratified to hear a roar of Marcus’ Horse, not only from his men but the auxiliaries and legionaries who watched them ride proudly off into the west.

*

Morwenna saw the Irish warrior galloping in his face filled with excitement and she knew the news he brought. “We attack now.”

Ernan looked at her in amazement but Tadgh and the Druids knew of her power. “But he may be bringing news that they have failed.”

“Ernan, he is bringing the news we seek. Tadgh, forward.”

The rider slewed his horse around, almost falling in the process.”Message from the General, we have Eboracum.  Brennus will be following soon.”

Ernan was not convinced and leaned forward. “You saw the fort fall?”

“I saw the gates opened and the Brigantes butchering the garrison if that is what you mean.”

The army moved forward on a wide front. Tadgh and the elite warriors were in the centre while the recent recruits were on the right.  The remainder of the deserters made up a cohort on the left of the line.  Morwenna was tucked behind Tadgh with her druidic and Irish bodyguards around her like a box. They had a front of five hundred men and it was over ten warriors deep. Tadgh wanted the momentum of a huge block of men to roll over the Roman line.  The scouts had reported that the Roman camp was in a shallow valley between two ridges which would give his men the momentum of a downhill charge. He just hoped that they had not moved out in the hours of darkness and he prayed, as the sun began to peep over the skyline, that they would see the legionaries labouring to dismantle their fort; then he knew that they would win.

Tadgh had impressed upon his men the need to keep a solid line.  He had fought against the Romans before and admired their cohesion.  Orders had been given that any man who was ahead of Tadgh would be sent to the rear of the line.  None of them wished to risk that and the line was far more ordered than one might have expected.

The deserters on the right all had shields and helmets but they had a variety of other weapons from spears and javelins to gladii and spatha.  They looked formidable but they were leaderless and they were the weaker element of the deserter army.  Mocius was now one of the officers having shown bravery at Mamucium despite being thrust into the front line of the attack.  He looked around and realised that he was the last of the first volunteers, the rest were either dead or with Decius.  If it gave him any concern he did not show it for he was enjoying being a soldier again, albeit a private soldier.

The Brigante in the middle deigned to wear armour but many had shields and their weaponry ranged from axes and spears to swords.  On the right the ordinary Brigante had with spears or improvised weapons such as a wood axe or a scythe. Tadgh had placed them there because he knew that they were the weakest element of the army but he also knew that Brennus would be arriving from that direction to bolster them. As they emerged over the ridge he saw that the camp was still there, the Romans were abed.  The Queen had been right and they had caught them napping. A roar began to erupt from the line as the army realised their plan was working.

Tadgh turned to the warrior next to him, Brennus’ brother Aldus, “We have them.  They will either stay behind the pathetic palisade or run. The Queen’s plan has worked.”

“I never doubted it.  She is a powerful witch and she knows things that are beyond the imagination of mere warriors like us. She will truly lead us to greatness.”

The murmurings from the warriors in the font line showed that, they too, felt the same way. Tadgh felt the pride swelling his heart almost to bursting. With a Queen such as Morwenna and warriors such as these they could not only rid their land of Romans but the whole of Britannia.  Tadgh almost risked a glance over his shoulder to the Queen. He knew of the liaison with Decius who was a descendant of Cunobleinus, the last king of Britain and he knew too of the child safe in Manavia.  The land of the Brigante was but the first step to the land of Britannia.

One of his warriors suddenly shouted a warning as a column of Roman cavalry appeared. Where had they come from?  No cavalry was known to be operating in this area.  Their spies had told them that the Gallic cavalry were close to Coriosopitum so who were these? Aldus asked, “Do we halt?”

Tadgh realised that had unconsciously slowed up.  “Of course not. It is but a handful of men.  What will they be able to do?  What can they do against this might host?  They must be scouts.”

“They look well armed for scouts. The leader has armour and look at the standard.”

With a sinking heart Tadgh could see that it was, indeed the standard of Marcus’ Horse. It had been reformed!  His eyes nervously scanned the horizon for more horsemen and doubt entered his mind.  What if they had got around their flanks and even now were approaching the rear? It seemed like a typical Roman trick to attack the Queen while her warriors were fighting their legionaries. He could do little about that but he relaxed a little when he realised that the Queen was as astute as any and she would be able to see what he saw.

The column of riders rode to within one hundred paces and spread out in a pathetically thin line of seventeen troopers with the leader and standard bearer in front.  What were they doing?  Were they going for a suicidal charge?  Tadgh could see that while that might be suicide a charge at the centre of the line could take out the leadership of the army. “Halt!” The whole line juddered to a halt.  There was a little jostling at the ones further back pushed forward but the line was solid.

The rider rode forwards and looked to Tadgh a little familiar. Suddenly he drew out his sword and called, “I am Livius Lucullus Sallustius, Decurion Princeps of Marcus’ Horse and this is the Sword of Cartimandua.  I command you as loyal Brigante to lay down your weapons and surrender. Your loyalty is not to an illegitimate misguided witch but to the honour and memory of Queen Cartimandua, the last rightful Queen of the Brigante murdered by the witch’s mother.”

There was a roar of anger from the Brigante but Tadgh held up his hand to silence them.  He stepped forward. “I know that the sword belongs to me as Chief of the Brigante and I would thank you to hand it over.  Were he with us today I am sure your brother would take it from you himself.”

Livius’ face did not register any sign that he had heard Tadgh’s comment but he stored the information that his brother was elsewhere. “If my brother were here he would be arrested and tried for theft and treason.” He pointed to the deserters.  “All of you are guilty of treason but if you lay your weapons down you will be treated fairly.  I give you my word.”

Tadgh could see that Livius was as persuasive as his brother and he sensed some mumblings from his left.  He had to act decisively. “Roman I will fight you man to man for the weapon.  If you win we leave and if I win I take the sword.” His men began to bang their weapons on their shields in approval.

Livius knew he had no choice.  Behind him he heard, “You can’t do this sir.  Remember what Marius said.”

“Yes Cassius and I could end the war here at a stroke.”

“You don’t think the bastard would keep his word do you and besides he looks like a big bugger.”

Grinning Livius said, “Do you doubt my ability now Cassius?”

“Fight me on foot Roman if you are man enough.”

“No sir!” Cassius watched in horror as Livius stepped down from Star and walked towards Tadgh. The Brigante chief grinned, this would be child’s play and soon the Sword of Cartimandua would be his and would guarantee their success. They were but twenty paces from each other when one of the deserters, worried that Tadgh might lose, fired an arrow at Livius. As soon as he did others launched their arrows thinking they were being attacked. Livius reacted quickly and held his shield above his head.  The arrows plunged into it.  Tadgh, taking advantage of his distractions leapt forward and smashed his axe into Livius’ shield shattering it.

Livius yelled, “Treachery!” and swung his sword around slicing into Tadgh’s calf muscle to the bone. Cassius rode up with Star and as he mounted, his left arm useless with the numbed pain, he yelled.  “All Brigante are treacherous dogs with no honour.” With that epithet he rode away, the column forming behind him.

Aldus did not wait for an order but screamed, “Charge! Revenge for Tadgh!”