Legatus Legionis: Book Two in the Gaius Claudius Scaevola Trilogy (30 page)

"Tell me the truth, or else." Plautius warned. "If it doesn't make sense, I'll cut off some heads right now."

One of the more juniors panicked. He was not going to be executed in support of some scheme to benefit one of these chiefs. He gave a rough account of what went where.

Plautius stared at the man, then decided this was probably reasonably true. "Then if your people get out and harvest the crops right now, Rome will take half of what you previously lost. Sit on your arses, and remember, Rome's taxes come first."

It was not clear what the chiefs thought, but the crowd that had gathered around knew what to do.

Gaius was just about to ride off to attend to some of the general administrative matters that went with the command of a legion when a thought passed through the back of his mind. It was almost as if Rebecca was interpreting those actions as showing that his heart had been touched, and of his own intuitive desire to follow The Way.

* * *

The next day the legion marched onwards, again at some distance from the fourteenth. More forest, more swamp, then an area of meadow. The legion was about half way across this when, out of the forest before them, a large party of Dobunni appeared, and their leaders began riding rapidly towards the legion. Immediately the Romans formed a defensive pattern, but just as the riders came closer, their purpose became clearer: they surrendered. This gave rise to much mirth amongst the men: these Celts could claim a record for the fastest surrenderers in the west! A few quick words, however, and Gaius knew better. The tribe had had fair relations with Cunobelinus, but the chief had got into bad terms with Togodumnus, and after a dispute in which Togodumnus claimed considerable land the Dobunni felt was theirs, Togodumnus now demanded that all Dobunni men of an age able to bear arms present themselves to fight the Romans. As the chief said to Gaius, he had no intention of having many of his men killed by the Romans so that he could have his land stolen by Togodumnus. Further, word of what had happened in the town behind them had spread, and if he were about to live under Roman rule, there was little point in having half his men killed first.

Gaius assured the chief that as long as he swore loyalty to Rome, there was no way Togodumnus would take his land. Word of the surrender was sent to Plautius, and Gaius proposed that the Dobunni proceed to the town they had just left. A messenger was sent informing the townsfolk that they should feed this party, and allowance would be made for taxes due. Then as the Dobunni party left, the legion marched on, following the local paths that once again took them northwards until later that afternoon they reached an escarpment.

A small river lazily flowed across the scene, until it reached a broad estuary that, because of the lower tides, was little better than a mudflat on which seagulls were walking. The riverbanks were marshy, but on either side much of the land had been cleared, and there were small farms scattered across the cleared land, each with their wooden thatched hut, their little smoky fire, and the animals scattered around. As the land rose in the distance, there was more forest, with scattered clearings, and, judging by the occasional smoke, the odd forester's hut. Immediately before them, on the opposite side of the river, was a walled town, and judging by the number of armed men and horses, the Celts had decided to make a stand there.

The fortifications were on a small hill; the approach from upstream and to the west was reasonably flat, and that approach was protected by a large ditch dug just outside the walls. On the riverside, and downstream, a moderately steep slope fell away from the walls to the river flat below, where the Celts had also built a large ditch.

A casual glance at the Celts showed that they had yet to realize the seriousness of their situation. They were doing very little; clearly they believed that the river would be a major obstacle to the Romans. They had much to learn about Rome. Gaius glanced to his right, and saw the leaders of the fourteenth viewing exactly the same scene. Mirror signals confirmed the nature of the plan Plautius wished to follow. Gaius sent a confirmatory signal, then he marched his legion towards the riverbank, in full view of the Celts. Since it was late afternoon, the Romans were beginning to establish a camp. The Celts clearly thought they were safe, as no patrols were set.

A messenger approached Gaius. This town was regarded by Plautius as important. Apparently Caratacus had heard of the intention to set up Cogidumnus as a client king, and he had sent a very sizable war party down to inflict damage and persuade that tribe not to do so. However, he had been late, and the
Augusta
had caught them and there had been a major battle. The Celtic war party had fled, and most of its soldiers were now in this fortified town.

The next morning the soldiers of the fourteenth were busy as only Roman soldiers could be busy. Trees were chopped down, and what were clearly pontoons and bridge sections were constructed and stood on the bank. The job of the fourteenth was to make it look as if the basic plan was to launch a frontal attack across the river. The twentieth was doing something similar upstream, also in view of the Celts, however Gaius also sent three cohorts under the command of Falco upstream, where they would cross the river out of sight of the Celts. Thus while on the eastern side of the river everything seemed chaotic, the following day was designated for the attack. Gaius also called Lupus to his tent, and told him that he would have the honour of leading the river crossing. He was pleased to see that Lupus, while recognizing the seriousness of the orders and the risks, was also pleased that he had been chosen, and he promised that his cohorts would secure a position on the other side of the river.

Before first light, Plautius despatched his Batavians. These soldiers were able to swim rivers fully armed, and when they emerged on the other side, their arrival was unseen by the Britons. They crept to the rear of the enemy camp, and in the early light of predawn they set about disabling or stealing the horses. Without horses, the Celtic chariots were useless. Not that this land was ideal for chariot deployment.

Across the river, Gaius smiled when he heard the cries from the furious Celts. A number of them immediately began chasing horses, Batavians, anything. That lack of discipline would always tell against them. Of course they could chase the Batavians, and at first sight this seemed a cost-free option of exacting some cost from the Romans. It was not.

The previous night a cohort under the command of Gaius Hosidius Geta had made a night crossing near the river mouth. Now was the time to emerge. Plautius had ordered it to provide a further distraction to allow the Batavians to get further away, but Geta did more, by launching his small force at the rear of the pursuers. Suddenly the chasers found themselves isolated, dispersed, and caught in a pincer between the two small forces. The angry Celts flung themselves furiously on the Romans, but after the first blows they found themselves being driven relentlessly backwards by the shield wall. The angry Celtic battle cries gradually gave way to Celtic swearing, and cries of Celtic pain as the hob-nailed Roman boots were driven brutally into the ribs of Celtic wounded lying on the ground.

A further detachment of Celts emerged from the main fort, and rushed to help. Geta ordered the horn blast, and apart from the line immediately fighting Celts, his whole cohort reversed, and drove into the new attackers. Someone in the Celtic camp must have decided that this fighting in the open was fruitless, and a Celtic retreat was ordered.

The Celts turned and, with varying degrees of speed, retreated. Geta's men pursued as fast as they could, back-stabbing the slow, until they reached the first of the fortified gates, which were slammed shut just before the last of the Celts could regain safety. As the sounds of reinforcing beams could be heard being placed into position to hold the gates, the few remaining Celts had to face the charging Romans.

Without thinking, the front line of the Romans charged the Celts, only to be struck by a barrage of huge rocks from above. Quickly the order was given to lock shields above, but now the small Celtic party surprised by attacking, swinging their large heavy swords at the Roman legs. Blow after blow landed, and Romans began fall to the ground, legs bleeding profusely.

Then suddenly another band of Celts emerged from another gate, and launched themselves furiously on the Romans. Even Geta himself had to take a sword and shield and personally join the line. He signalled the retreat, and gradually the cohort pulled back from the wall. As they got further away, those behind the wall could only help their comrades with arrows. Still the blows were traded, and since the Romans could not force the Celts with their shields for fear of the arrows, the Roman losses were still significant.

Then the Celtic commander ordered the retreat. The Romans did not attempt to follow. As Gaius was to remark later, this was a significant lost opportunity for the Celts; if they did not feel confident of defeating one cohort that was clearly in trouble, there was not much point in attempting to fight two legions.

It was now time for the twentieth to make a more public and direct crossing. Gaius sat on his horse on a rise as he watched Lupus marshal his troops onto the rafts that had been made the previous evening, and cross in full view. The Celts saw the rafts and began hurling insults. As an attack, this seemed destined to fail, and the Celts became more derisive by the minute, particularly as the rafts apparently could not even keep on the proper course, but instead seemed to be drifting downstream of the main camp. Then, just as the Celts began to hurl their first spears, a horn signal could be heard.

From the rear of the Celt's camp, fearful yells could be heard and the Celts turned to see the first advance of Falco's men. Meanwhile, Geta's men had reformed, and were marching to cut off attempts at fleeing from the fortifications. Now, the Celts found that instead of defending behind a river the opposition had to cross, they were encircled by the Romans. In the general confusion, the Celts seemed not to notice that the rafts had now purposefully driven into some marshes.

At first Gaius had a sinking feeling that he had misjudged, for the men began jumping off rafts. He felt so helpless, being on the wrong side of the river. He should be there, where he could . . . But no, he realized that he had to trust the Centurions and Lupus. He was not essential everywhere, and he was too valuable to risk being killed on a failed landing. Not that it would fail, but there had to be the possibility of failure. All he could do was watch, as the soldiers with their heavy armour quickly began floundering in the deep mud, and as they tripped over reeds it became almost impossible to maintain their shields in locked formation. It was then that he saw Lupus quickly grab a long pole and push for all he was worth; his raft continued, and when two legionnaires saw what he was doing they grabbed the pole from him. With muscles straining they pushed, driving the raft closer to the ground, other soldiers using their shields to form a protective wall.

But eventually the raft could go no further. An
Optio
more experienced with marshes leaped forward, shield ahead, and advanced with the slow stride that made it easier to stay on his feet. The men followed, several falling flat on their faces as they tried to catch up. The
Optio
turned and called for the men to do what he was doing, then he fell back, to allow the shields to advance and for the protective wall to form. But as men fell into muddy holes, the long shield became a hindrance, and while they were struggling, Britons would appear from nowhere, throw spears, then disappear equally quickly.

But for all the cursing and all the swearing, and despite the moans of the wounded, the wall of shields made dry ground, to be greeted by a charge of Britons carrying huge lances. The attack faltered as wave after wave of Celts beat down on the wall of shields. All Gaius could do was to hold his breath and watch.

"Hold firm!" Lupus called from behind. He rounded up some of the stragglers who had fallen in the mud and sent them forward to those parts of the line most in need of reinforcement. Soldiers were dying, and many in the line were bleeding, but it was imperative that they held. If this line was defeated, the attack could fail.

Then the rafts brought a second load of men. These, not directly under fire themselves, found disembarking easier and were brought up to form a second line. Still the battle continued ahead. As the first line began to falter, Lupus ordered the horn.

It was here that Roman drill prevailed. The front line of Romans stepped back, and as if by magic they were immediately replaced by a fresh line that drove forward relentlessly. The front line of the Celts, tired from the continuous fighting, could not quite deal with fresh men, and they began to fall under the relentless stabbing from behind the slowly advancing wall of shields. The line advanced about four yards before the Celts sorted themselves out and fresh men entered the fray. Once again the Roman line was held, and a fierce exchange was underway, neither side giving ground, while bodies continued to pile up.

The third load of soldiers arrived, and these immediately took their place at the front of the lines. The fighting was up-hill, which was tiring, but the fresh legs helped. The Celts, needing more room to swing their longer weapons, had to give ground, but when they did so the Romans closed the gap. Slowly but remorselessly, the Romans worked their way forward, as yet further loads of soldiers disembarked. Meanwhile the Centurions had arranged for the wounded to be treated and they were now reorganizing those who had been the first to land into fighting units. As these rejoined the battle, and as even more of the Legion landed, the crossing could not now be repelled by the number of Celts that were outside the fortifications. Now would not be a good time to send reinforcements. If they had more men available, they should have been used while the Romans were more vulnerable. The advance now began to gather momentum, and Celts at the rear, fearing a collapse, began to peel off and make their way inside the fortifications.