Hosker, G [Sword of Cartimandua 00.5] Ulpius Felix- Warrior of Rome (13 page)

The Tribune of the Fifteenth had built his camp flanked by the Pannonian and Gallic camp. The fleet was lying offshore with all the artillery aimed at the marshy banks of the river.  As soon as the scouts were in they could begin to plan their route to the strongholds. The Tribune was no Corbulo and respected the abilities of the auxilia.  They had decided that they would send out the ala as a screen with the legion and the Gauls as two long columns.  It would make travelling as swift and as safe as possible. The three men were still finalising their plans when the sentry shouted. “Riders coming in.”

In this part of the world it did not pay to be complacent and take things for granted.  Every soldier grabbed his weapons until Marius yelled, “It is my men.”

One prisoner was being tugged by a rope while another was draped, heavily bleeding across the saddle of Decurion Ulpius Felix. “Well done Wolf.  Any casualties?”

“No Prefect.  There are ten dead Frisii out there.  They tried an ambush.” He grinned.  “They failed.”

“Good, leave them with us and you get your men sorted in the camp.”

Wolf rode back to the camp feeling pleased with the new men.  They had performed well and obeyed every order. The only down side was that one of his javelins had broken and he would have to get another from Publius who seemed to regard every piece of equipment as his own.

The next morning the ala spread out in a line eight hundred warriors long. There were twenty five turmae and they were well led.  The prisoners had told them that the Frisii were gathered close to the coast in a low lying hill fort and that their king was Gannascus.  Tribune Rufius Longus felt that they should strike quickly before their allies, the Chauci could come to aid them.

Cava and his men were on point. Like Wolf Cava trusted his men and found that he enjoyed this life in the Roman army.  Unlike some of the other officers he also liked the detached duty of scout. It felt more like being a Pannonian on a raid.  It was his sharp eyes which spotted the spiral of smoke which marked the hill fort. The low lying land made it quite obvious to Cava that the hill fort was no obstacle and only rose thirty or so paces from the land. He sent a man back with the news and then closed on the Frisii stronghold.

The Tribune, in turn, sent a messenger back to the fleet to join them on the seaward side of the fort. He hoped that they could cow them into submission but the prisoners had said that Gannascus had ambitions to invade the Roman lands; he would want his moment of glory. By the time they reached the fort it was too late to attack and they all built secure camps. Flavius took Marius to one side.  “I will bet a week’s pay that they attack us tonight!”

“No takers there Flavius.  Have half the men on guard tonight.  Use Aulus to take charge.  Rest turmae one through six and we’ll use them tomorrow.  We won’t be needed for the assault.”

“You can see that Corbulo isn’t here or we would have been sent to take it on the backs of our horses.”

“That sounds cynical Flavius.” He lowered his voice, “Don’t let the men hear those kinds of opinion eh?”

“Of course not sir.”

The third turma were on duty that night and every trooper was alert to danger.  They might wear the Roman armour and look Roman but they all had Pannonian instincts.  Metellus, who had been Mabad when he rode the plains, sniffed the air. There was the smell of the sea and the pines but there was something else, a sour smell of unwashed bodies.  He half smiled to himself, a year ago and that would have been him but now he took occasional baths; not as many as the regular Roman troops but enough to make him aware of others.  “Decurion, there is someone out there!”

Cava’s neck had been prickling and Metellus’ words merely confirmed it. “Third turma stand to. Drusus, wake the Decurion Princeps.”

The thirty troopers checked the straps on their scuta and held their javelin above their head.  The other two were jabbed into the ground, ready for a second volley should it become necessary. “What is it Decurion?”

“There are men out there sir.  Can’t see them but I know they are there.”

Just then a duck took noisy flight.  Flavius grinned, “I think you are right.  I’ll bring the others.” He pointed to the ditch. “Keep your eyes closer to the fort.”

Cava knew that Flavius was an old hand at sentry duty and he heeded his advice. Within moments he had spotted the pale face glimpsed for a but moment.  He tracked where he thought it would reappear, “Steady lads they are twenty paces from the ditch.” As soon as he detected the movement he hurled his javelin and was rewarded with a scream as the Frisii fell.  Suddenly the ditch was filled with howling warriors wielding axes and swords. Orders would have been superfluous and he and his men hurled their javelins at the approaching men. He was aware of the gaps on either side being filled as the other troopers joined them.  His last javelin thrown he drew his spatha as a Frisii warrior tried to haul himself up using the bodies of his dead comrades as a ladder.  He was a brave man and Cava hoped he would find his way to the Allfather as he thrust the length of the blade through his open, screaming mouth.

The ala’s troopers were just spectators, as Marius had predicted, for the assault.  The failed attack on the ala’s camp had taken the heart out of the Frisii who were quickly subjugated. The Gallic Prefect had not needed to worry about their livelihoods for, when the boats were destroyed and the fort dismantled the people were herded aboard ships and sent to the slave markets of Rome.  The Frisii threat was over.

Chapter 7

Decurion Felix stopped wearing the patch as summer approached. It itched and sweated when he wore it and he only received strange looks for the first few days.  Soon they all came to ignore it and see beyond the disfigurement and recognise their old comrade beneath.  The new recruits had been assimilated and with almost a thousand men the ala was as full as it would ever be.  There would be fewer Pannonians making the journey west.  The Decurion had been told by Flavius that a second ala was being raised for action in the east. Any new recruits would have to come from the land around them. Wolf couldn’t see that they would ever be able to trust the Frisii and Batavi who had been conquered.  Flavius had laughed, “In your father’s time the Pannonians fought against my legion and yet now his son fights with me.  Times change, Wolf, as we all do.”

He still couldn’t see it himself. He was happy however; he had become used to not fighting alongside his old friends.  There were still a couple of the men he had led in his turma but his core had been picked clean to provide officers and sesquiplicarii for the rest of the turmae. He enjoyed the patrols but he missed the action. He could not wait for the proposed autumn invasion of the Chauci land.  He was a warrior and that was what warriors did.

Sura and the forty men he had brought with him laid up in the woods to the west of the camps. They had made their way through the Roman lines at night to wait during the day in the quieter hinterland where the Roman gaze was not so vigilant. He had brought his deserters and fifteen Chauci youth who wished to be blooded. Sura had already chosen his target, the Fifth Legion whose camp was close to the fortress.  There they would feel secure, protected, as they were, by the fort on one side and the two auxiliary camps on the other.  Tonight they would visit their terror on the camp and then flee south, not back to the river as the Romans would expect but to Tungri and the other settlements where they would continue their raid. Sura had promised Herrmann a summer of destruction and he would deliver a summer that the province would never forget.

The third century had drawn the night time duty for the third consecutive night.  They were all looking forwards to the next ten days when they would just have the drills and the practice and not have to endure the boring and pointless sentry duty.  Centurion Julius Cuneo was getting close to his pension.  Retirement loomed and he had already earmarked an inn in Cisalpine Gaul.  He had passed through it many times in his twenty five years and knew that he could make much money from the legions who passed through that land.  Every night he filled his head with the ideas and the profits.  He pictured the comely women who would work for him and whom he would bed.  He envisaged his old comrades sharing an amphora of wine, slightly discounted of course, and talking of old campaigns.  He had been lucky in his twenty four years. It had been fifteen years since he had had to fight.  When they had assaulted the Chauci village the previous year he and his century had been in the second wave and the Pannonian charge had meant that it was without danger.  He had been lucky.

His tired ears thought they heard a noise and he glanced over the rampart but could see nothing.  He smiled to himself, he was getting old and hearing things. When he smelled the unwashed body close to him and felt the hand cover his mouth his hand went to his gladius, but too late his life blood and his dreams of retirement were dripping in pools at his dead feet. The rest of the century on the north wall were all despatched silently. The raiders took their heads and slipped them over the wall.  While the ten warriors outside placed the gruesome trophies on the spears placed there earlier, the rest descended and opened the gates.  The attention of the other sentries was to the river and they did not see the warriors as they took the burning torches and threw them at the tents.  The raiders had left by the open gate before the sudden flaring of the tents drew their attention. “Fire! To arms!”

The legion centurions reacted the quickest and leapt from their tents, half dressed but with a gladius in hand. First Spear took charge, “Get a chain of buckets. Marcus, get your century and reinforce the sentries on the walls. I’ll have the dozy buggers backs laid bare for allowing this.”

“First Spear, the south gate is open.”

“Shit! Centurion Flaccus.  Get your century to the south gate and check on the sentries.” He suspected that any who should have been punished were now dead. The Tribunes and the Legate of the fifth arrived, half dressed and looking annoyed. Legate Julius Salvius Labeo knew that First Spear was a competent officer and he went directly to him.  “Well Gnaeus?”

In answer he pointed to the open gate. “Someone got in and out of the fort and set fire to these tents.”

“And the sentries?”

Just then a grim faced Centurion Flaccus arrived.  “Sir the sentries are all dead, including the centurion.”

“Any sign of the perpetrators?”

“No Prefect but…”

“Out with it man!”

“They have no heads.”

By the time dawn broke a short while later the fires had been doused and the whole legion stood to arms.  As the mist cleared it became obvious where the missing heads were as the grim line of severed heads stared back at them.

When Marius arrived at the Praetorium he noticed that the normally smug expression on Bucco’s face had disappeared and he had a distinctly green look about him. The Prefect allowed himself a smug smile of his own.  They had heard about the attack on the camp and he knew that every one of the Legate’s staff would be sleeping less soundly for a while.

The Legate stood and addressed them all.  “As you may have heard some barbarians entered the camp of the Fifth last night and killed some of the sentries.  The atrocity will not go unpunished.  We are going to begin our campaign against the Chauci and this time we will destroy all of their river side bases and send them back to their forests. The two legions and the Gauls will cross by two pontoon bridges which are being built.  I have asked the Sixteenth Gallica at
Colonia Claudia Ara Agrippinensium
to build a pontoon bridge there.  The Pannonian ala will pursue last night’s raiders and then cross the river at Colonia Claudia
.
” He then looked directly at Marius. “Your main role will be to close the bag.  We will be driving along the northern bank of the Rhenus and you will use your ala to prevent the refugees escaping.  We will all then return here via the temporary bridge at Colonia Claudia for the engineers will have dismantled the two other bridges.” He gave a grim smile, “as we are only leaving one cohort here it would not do to give our enemies the chance to cross the river and destroy all our good work eh?”

Labeo stood, “Who will command sir?”

“I will.  It is time my staff and I saw some action.  Planning these campaigns is all very well but I need to be on hand in case all does not go as expected.”

Marius put his hand before his mouth to stop himself from laughing as the aide, Bucco, visibly went green as he heard the news. As he left he knew that it would be almost impossible to find whoever had killed the legionaries.  He would spend no more than a day at the most. It was just a day’s ride to the nearest legion and he could be in position with most of the ala.

“Flavius you will be with me and the main body.  Detach the Second and Third to try to pick up the trail of the men who got inside the fort.”

“Do you think Wolf and Cava will find them?”

“I doubt it but the Legate is insistent that we try.  Personally I think it is more important to reach the other side of the Rhenus.  The army will be across within two days.  I am hoping that the Legate of the Sixteenth has good security at the bridge or we could all be in the shit if the Chauci use that as a means of invading us.

Surprisingly Cava’s Chosen Man, Drusus, found their trail quite quickly. “They are Pannonians sir.” He held up a bone.  It was from a raven and was the type that many Pannonians used to decorate their hair. The strands of hair showed that it had had human contact. 

Wolf joined the two men and scoured the ground.  “Looks to be about thirty men and they headed south.”

“Away from the river.”

“Exactly.”

Cava turned to one of his troopers.  “Tell the Prefect we have found the trail and it is heading south.  We will follow and meet him at the bridge.”

This was the first time that they had had detached duty and they were travelling light.  The carts with the spare equipment and food was with the ala. The two officers had already been enjoying the freedom and now that they might be within sniffing distance of Sura they were even keener.