Hosker, G [Sword of Cartimandua 06] Druid's Gold (33 page)

The whole line leapt forward all thoughts of cohesion gone.  They lapped around Tadgh who was busy tying a cloth around his wound.  In vain he shouted for them to halt but every warrior was intent on killing Livius and claiming the sword for himself; many believing that their leader had been slain.  Each warrior just wanted to get to grips with infamous Marcus’ Horse.  Each warrior wanted a trooper’s head as a trophy and the horde raced across the open ground in pursuit of the sword.

At the rear of her army Morwenna screamed her rage but the sound was lost amidst the roaring of the army.  Her plans had been thwarted and her warriors were not fighting the way they had planned.  Marcus’ Horse and the Sword of Cartimandua had come to haunt her again!

Chapter 20

As the Explorates wheeled they threw their javelins; it was more in hope than expectation but the minute faltering of the pursuers fearful of the metal tipped missiles helped to slow the Brigante slightly. Rufius and Ovidius were better placed and fired three quick arrows each before wheeling and joining the line. The Brigante were so packed that each arrow found a mark and others fell over bodies of the newly fallen warriors. This enraged the Brigante even more, despising weapons which could be fired from a distance.  The two last men in the column rode with their knees knowing their mounts would follow the ones in front, all the while firing arrow after arrow at the screaming Brigante warriors desperate to rip the Romans from t heir saddles and kill them with their bare hands. The effect of the rain of arrows was subtle, the pursuing warriors spread out to each side avoiding the killing zone. The deserters and the Brigante on the flanks pushed in to get closer to the enemy and soon all semblance of order was gone and there was just a solid block of men racing across the open ground.  The five hundred wide, ten man deep line was no more, there was no more elite warrior in the middle deserters on the left and Brigante on the right; it was just a mob hurtling towards the Roman camp, in pursuit of the small column which was riding for its life.

“You alright sir?” Cassius was worried by the left arm hanging limply from Livius’ side.

“Just numbed. That man had a powerful arm but I don’t think it is broken. Almost time to wheel right Cassius.”

“Sir. By the way sir that was their war chief Tadgh, I recognised his emblem.  His brother Brennus has the same one. They could well be leaderless until he rejoins the fight.”

The camp was to their front and they intended to take the Brigante down one side of the deserted camp and then wheel right to take the enemy into the killing zone.  They had hoped that it would funnel the Brigante and eliminate their opportunity to move right away from the missiles which would soon be amongst them.

“Now!”

In a beautifully executed manoeuvre, the column disappeared from the sight of Morwenna some half a mile back.  The Brigante following also wheeled but somewhat more slowly as they had not anticipated such an action. It was almost as though they could not see the lines of legionaries calmly waiting on the low ridge but a hundred paces to their left.  They were too intent upon catching the cavalry.  Aldus was at the front roaring his insults at the departing Romans.  Rufius and Ovidius had emptied their quivers but each held his javelin ready to turn and hurl should the opportunity arise.

Cassius, riding on the left of the column, was watching the ground for the markers which indicated the safe ground in front of the caltrops.  As soon as they passed the last legionary he was desperately seeking the safe route right.  At the back Ovidius and Rufius had slung their bows and were reaching into the sacks which held more caltrops to sow behind them.

The Brigante had now entered the ground chosen by the Prefect where they would be assaulted by bolts and arrows, just as Morwenna and Ernan arrived at the fort.  To Morwenna’s horror she saw the legionaries, not in the fort as she had assumed but to her front and lined up ready to attack. Even as she roared out an order to halt, the Prefect gave the command to fire and a volley of arrows rained down on the men who were spread out over five hundred paces.  This was followed by the thud of scorpions hurling their deadly bolts to slice through lines of unsuspecting warriors. They were so tightly packed that the arrows and bolts could not fail to strike a body. Morwenna had many men but a few volleys like that would soon destroy her army. She turned to Ernan. “Now is the time to earn your money.  Take charge of the army.  Take your men and destroy the Romans.”

Ernan was like a hound released from the leash; his face beamed with pleasure. “Watch a real warrior fight!”

He galloped his horse towards the Romans with his men close behind. He paused only to rally the Brigante before dismounting.  “Brigante,” his voice rose loudly above the tumultuous noise.  “Your Queen commands that we kill the Romans.  Are you with me?!”

The roar told him they were and the huge Irishman took his two handed sword and raced at the head of a wedge of his oath brothers towards the auxiliaries who awaited him. The Brigante line rippled as they turned to attack the line which looked thin and vulnerable.

The Queen turned to her druids. “One of you, find Tadgh and bring him here. You, “she pointed to another, “find any who are wounded but can fight.  We will have a second line here next to the camp.” Her razor sharp mind had taken in that the fort could be used as a defence against a Roman attack.  She was now counting on the sudden appearance of Brennus to regain the balance of power lost in the reckless charge after the Sword of Cartimandua.

The Brigante in the fore had to suffer double casualties as they were felled by both caltrops and arrows.  Soon a third was added as the javelins thrown by the legionaries began to strike them. Mocius had managed to organise and control the deserters around them and they had made a testudo. This enabled them to close with the auxiliaries on the right of the Roman line.  The bodies they crossed were a carpet protecting their feet from the caltrops but wearing the hobnailed caligae they suffered less anyway.  Mocius was elated.  This was what he was trained for.  In his previous life he had been an ordinary legionary following orders now he led others and he felt powerful. To his right Ernan’s wedge was also benefiting from the dead Brigante beneath his feet. Moving swiftly towards the enemy he seemed to bear a charmed life.  The two columns hit the Roman line at the same time.  Ernan’s sword decapitated three auxiliaries at a single blow and those behind soon despatched the ones on either side.  Despite the javelins thrown by the legionaries into the ranks behind the wild Irish were soon crashing their swords and war axes on helmets and shields. The power of their arms and weapons meant that although the legionaries were armoured, bones were shattered along with shields and once that happened the cohesion of the shield went.

Mocius’ men were having even greater success.  A second testudo had been created and was equally impervious to the javelins and arrows. The bolt throwers could no longer be depressed enough to fire and the rebels took advantage of that.  The auxiliary line was no longer tight and the testudo just ran over them, the men in the third rank despatching the recumbent Tungrians as they stepped over them. Mocius knew that things would change once they reached the legionaries and he shouted, “Halt! Shield wall!” The training of years took over and soon two identical lines faced each other one Roman and one intent on ending Roman rule.  It was a savage encounter much like those that had take place over a hundred years ago between the legions of Caesar and Pompey. Neither side gave any quarter nor did they seek it.  Gladii sought flesh between the press of shields locked tightly together.  The Ninth tried to throw javelins over the front ranks but those behind also had shields.

Ernan and his warriors were unarmoured but the power of the blows was something the Romans had not encountered before. They stabbed and slashed at the flesh they saw but if the arm came out too far it was severed and the Irishmen seemed very agile, leaping out of the way of the short stabbing swords of the beleaguered legionaries.

Livius had reached the Prefect and, as a capsarius rubbed a foul smelling but soothing ointment on his arm, he scanned the battle field.  “You did well Livius and the trap worked.”

“Yes Prefect but, unless the rest of your cohorts get here soon, then the testudo and the Irish will be through your lines.” First Spear had seen that the right of the line was weakening and had gone to bolster it with the century kept in reserve for just such an emergency.

“The rest appear to be holding.”

“What happens if the Queen brings those reserves in? “He pointed to where the Queen and four hundred warriors waited impassively. And also why hasn’t she launched them.  She must see that we are weak on the right.  She could outflank us.”

Cassius spoke up. “She might be waiting for reserves remember that Brigante said your brother wasn’t here and that,” he pointed at the testudo formations, “is nowhere near the whole of the deserter army.  Perhaps your brother is on his way.”

“In which case, we had better pray that the First and Third Cohorts make better time than we had hoped.”

Almost in answer Rufius shouted above the clamour and din of metal on metal.  “Sir, more Brigante from our left.”

“That is what she was waiting for.”

“Go and ask the centurion there to realign his men to face this new attack and could your men give some support?”

“Of course sir.  Explorates to the left.” Even as they turned two small figures slipped away from the auxiliary line where they had been firing arrows and joined behind Ovidius and Rufius, unseen by all.

Brennus was elated when he saw the Romans reeling.  Although only armed with swords his fifty men launched themselves at the Romans who were rapidly retreating to form another line at right angles to their first. Their delay in executing the realignment meant that it was not a solid line and the Brigante hit it at a rush breaking into the line and giving the advantage to the agile, lightly armoured warriors. The centurion was still roaring his orders when Brennus took the head from his shoulder with one mighty sweep of his long sword.  Soon it was individual combats which were taking place and this suited the fifty Brigante more than the seventy legionaries who began to take more casualties.

Cassius attracted Livius’ attention.  “That is Brennus.  He is a senior chief.  Brother of the one you wounded, Tadgh.”

“Watch my left.” Without a shield Livius was vulnerable to an attack on his shield side.  Cassius stepped up as Livius roared. “This is the Sword of Cartimandua Brennus.  It has crippled your treacherous brother and now it will claim your miserable life.” His insults had the desired effect and Brennus and his ten chosen men hurled themselves at their new target.  Although there were three other troopers with Livius, he was outnumbered.  The first warrior who reached him was easily killed as he ran onto the sword held by Livius. A second man saw his opportunity and he jumped into the air ready to plunge his sword into Livius whose weapon was still embedded in the dead man’s neck.  Even when he was in the air an arrow plucked him and threw him onto the man behind. Brennus leapt in and crashed his huge sword towards the unarmoured arm of Livius.  Fortunately the decurion had managed to extract the blade and Brennus’ weapon struck the sword instead. The blow jarred Livius’ right arm but he stood his ground. 

They circled each other.  Brennus held his sword in two hands but Livius could only use one.  Brennus grinned in anticipation. “When you are dead I will give the sword as a present to my brother.” Livius had no breath to trade insults and he was too busy fending off the scything attacks of Brennus. He had the longer reach and the greatest strength. It was only a matter of time before he wore him down and Brennus knew it. Livius was aware of Cassius desperately defending his left side as other Brigante were trying to help their chief.  He was also aware of arrows hitting other warriors. Rufius and Ovidius were doing a good job.

Brennus slashed down again and this time the blow was only deflected a little and the blade sliced into Livius’ left leg.”The next blow and you and your sword are mine!”  Livius knew that he was right and he would have to resort to trickery.  The Sword of Cartimandua could not go to a Brigante rebel. As Brennus raised his sword for the next blow, aimed at Livius’ right shoulder he did the unexpected, he rolled forwards, and his legs took out Brennus who fell in a heap. Struggling to his feet first Livius plunged the sword into the unprotected back of the huge warrior lying like a stranded whale on a beach. The mighty sword cracked through ribs and ripped through his heart, the green grass was dark red with Brigante blood. Three enraged warriors behind Livius tried to get to him and avenge their chief but three arrows each found a mark and they fell dead.

The death of Brennus took the heart out of the attack on the right but Morwenna had seen her chance and launched her reserves at the vulnerable and weakened right flank. The Prefect looked in horror as the centuries on the right began to crumble and there was suddenly no line facing the four hundred fresh warriors the witch on the white horse was bringing to claim her bloody victory.

Mocius found himself fighting shoulder to shoulder with Ernan and the two grinned at each other as two more legionaries fell to their deaths. Mocius gestured to the centre.  “That is the Prefect.  If we get him then we win.”

“The bastard is as good as dead then!” Roaring his battle cry the Irish hurled themselves forwards while Mocius rallied his men. “Reform! Head for First Spear and kill the bastard!” Every man under Mocius’ command rushed to kill the most hated man in any legion, hated if you were always in trouble and these deserters had been in trouble more than most. They hacked and slashed their way through legionaries who fought valiantly to protect their First Spear.

A mile away Tribune Didius halted the two cohorts. He could see that the lines were almost overrun but his troops needed their lines dressing.  As they formed into a cohort wide line he surveyed the scene. He turned to the First Cohort.  They were the best eight hundred men in the legion and the First Spear fighting for his life with the Prefect was theirs. “Lads, First Spear is in trouble.  I want you to double time in straight lines and take out those forces on the right with the bitch on the white horse. “The acting First Spear raised his arm and with the signifier set off at a trot. The Tribune then turned to the Third Cohort. “Third Cohort you are going to do what the First did but even better.” There were grins from the front ranks. “We are going to go to the right flank and roll up the rest of these rebels.  There are deserters down there and they murdered our men at Mamucium.  Now is payback time. Centurion?” The senior centurion dropped his arm and with the buccina sounding set off at a trot.