Hosker, G [Sword of Cartimandua 04] Roman Retreat (3 page)

Marius looked up wearily as another wounded Centurion reported to him. “The third century is down to forty who can still fight.”

Marius looked at the Centurion, one of his older friends.  He could see in his eyes that the forty who remained included many wounded soldiers. In the dying embers of the day fighting still raged sporadically around the ramparts. They had repulsed so many attacks that Marius had lost count.  All of the officers had suffered wounds. He had had his leg slashed open by an axe. Gnaeus Rullus had lost three fingers of his left hand as he had fended off three warriors trying to gain the honour of killing Marius.

“Thank you Centurion. You have done well.  All your men have done well.  I believe the fighting will die down.  Feed half of your men and repair what you can.  In the morrow they will attack again.” The unspoken words were that it would be the last attack and they would all die.

“Well First Spear.  Will our friends arrive?”

Marius shook his head.  “I fear not.  Even if the riders reached the fort Prefect Strabo could not be here before the day after tomorrow.  If he forced a march he might arrive by nightfall tomorrow but you know, old friend, that we will not survive past noon.“

The aquifer nodded. “We will make these barbarians pay for these old bones.” He looked around as the fighting died down and nightfall fell like smoky blanket about the wrecked and burning fort. “What a place to leave our bodies eh Marius. This place forsaken by the gods filled with blue painted monsters who do not know when they are beaten.”

Marius laughed. “Had General Agricola still been with us I know that they would have known defeat but this boil will fester and grow until the whole of Britannia feels its poison.”

“Aye but take comfort for we shall not be here to see it.”

“No we will be supping at the Allfather’s table.”

“I wonder what good food and fine wine taste like?”

Laughing First Spear said, “Well by tomorrow eve we shall know.”

Marius was awake long before his slave came with the jug of water and hard bread. Nodding to him he said, “Today, if you get the chance save yourself.  They may not notice an old man dressed in rags slipping away.”

The old slave nodded.  “Thank you First Spear.  It does you great honour that you think of an old man on this day of days but I shall remain here and die with the rest of you for I would perish alone in the woods and I would prefer to end my days here with comrades.”

Marius nodded for the slave was a Batavian and understood the concept of honour and comradeship.  “Then arm yourself and sell your life dearly.”

The fort looked far worse in the cold early morning light. The repairs had been done hastily completed before the soldiers fell asleep through exhaustion and Marius could clearly see that they could be brushed aside if the Caledonii made a strong attack. He nodded and the buccina sounded. The red eyed and weary warriors dragged their reluctant bodies to the ramparts and the Centurion did a quick head count.  There were barely two hundred men left standing. Their wounded companions numbered less than a hundred and many of those would not see noon. Marius smiled wryly to himself; none of them would see noon.”Stand to.”Silence echoed like a bell and every eye was drawn to the bloodied figure. “Today we make our last stand against the barbarians.  Today will see the end of this cohort and its noble history.  We will all be together in the afterlife at the Allfather’s table where we will talk of this day, this battle and this honour.  We may die today but we will not be defeated for we will have remained at our posts and died like men. I salute you.” The men responded by hitting their swords against their shields and cheering rhythmically.

Ninian was gathering his forces when his men suddenly looked up as they heard the cheering. “Have the Romans been relieved?”

“No they are preparing for their death.  No-one is coming to aid them.  There are warbands to the south of the fort watching for the relief column and we will end their resistance in our first attack.” He looked around the war bands and saw, with some sadness that many of his oath kin had died in the terrible fighting of the previous day. The Romans had fought well and not yielded a single piece of their fort. Some of his younger warriors looked less confident and that was no bad thing for it would make them better warriors in the future. “Today, when we attack, there will be no arrows, no missiles.  There will be no fire and the spiked ditch is no more.  We will push down their flimsy wooden wall and fight them man to man and this time, my brothers, we will win. When we have destroyed this fort and the Romans who come to their aid we will join with my father, King Calgathus, and fall upon the rest of the Romans like wolves upon sheep. We will retake our land and then take the land the Romans stole from the Brigante, the Novontae and the Carvetii.  We will not stop until they are driven all the way back to Rome.”  This time it was the Batavians who heard the cheers and then they saw the hordes of Caledonii marching in step from the woods.  Those who had shields were banging their swords against them; the noise seemed to increase the size and numbers of those coming towards them.

Inside the fort soldiers clasped hands with comrades and prepared to sell their lives dearly. Marius’ voice boomed out as he gave his last order. “Centurions I want one man in two in the centre of the camp.  Those on the walls, when the buccina sounds, retreat to the centre.  We will make a shield wall and make them pay a high price for this little piece of worthless land.” He turned to Gnaeus the aquifer.  “Watch for my signal. I only want them close enough to the walls so that they are committed to the attack.”

“You think that a shield wall will hold them?”

Marius shrugged.  “I would prefer legionary shields but it does give us the best chance we have. Fate has loaded these dice against us Gnaeus but we must play with what we have.”

Marius’ Horse had made it through the forests to appear behind the Caledonii. Macro and his scouts returned. “They have a camp a mile into the forest.”

“Are there warriors?”

“A few and old men and some women and children. They have carts and draught animals.”

Decius nodded.  “So they plan on advancing further south. Decurion Cilo.  Take your turma and destroy the camp burn everything.” He paused and looked significantly at the Decurion. “Kill everybody.” The soldier opened his mouth as though to speak but Decius continued. “I know it goes against the grain but our arses are hanging out here. We may not survive the day.  Do you want this army unleashed on the rest of the province?” Cilo shook his head.  Decius glared around at the rest and they all shook their heads. “Right and when we go in I want no mercy.  We haven’t got that luxury.  Our only chance is to surprise them, get the cohort out and meet up with Prefect Strabo. That is the only way we will survive. We go in two lines.  The second line will be made up of archers.  Tell the lads to wait until the arrows have hit before they give their war cry and then hit them.” It was a mark of the training of the ala that Decius did not need to say when their arrows would be loosed.  Each man knew that.

“Usual formation?” Macro looked questioningly at Decius. Since Gaius had inherited the sword of Cartimandua his turma had led the line from the centre. The ala regarded it superstitiously as a sign of good fortune whilst the men of the Second Turma regarded it as a mark of honour.

Decius grinned at Gaius. “Usual formation. Keeps me safer a bit longer. Decurion Cilo when you have fired the camp follow up and mop up any survivors. If we come through this we will meet at the Batavian camp and see who is left alive.”

Ninian was confident that his four thousand men would be victorious. He could see from the walls that barely a hundred men remained twenty five per wall. His decision to send the other six thousand to meet the relief column was a wise one. The four hundred men on the far side of the fort, hidden in the forests would ensure that any survivors would be dealt with. “Forward.” The line of blue painted warriors moved slowly across the battlefield still littered with the detritus of the previous day’s conflict. There was no need to rush for they did not have to run the gauntlet of missile fire and they would arrive fresher.  They had also learned that the auxiliaries preferred their enemies to come at them piecemeal. Today would be won by weight of numbers.

The pall of smoke from the burning camp was behind the advancing barbarians but the ones at the rear could smell the smoke. They feared some trick by the Romans and paid it no mind.  The first they knew of their danger was when they felt the thud of arrows into backs and the shouts as men fell. The attack by Marcus’ Horse coincided with the roar as Ninian’s men leapt forward and the buccina sounded. The Caledonii were perplexed; had the Romans retreated and were attacking the defenders placed on the far side of the fort?

Decius heard the buccina and shouted over to Macro. “Looks like some are still alive. Sweep your turma around the left flank. See if you can turn them.” Macro nodded and his turma swept majestically and magnificently in a line to the left. The first of the ala’s javelins were now raining home. The Caledonii were climbing over the crumbling wooden walls. Decius shouted to his aquifer, “Sound the buccina. Let ‘em know we are coming.” The strident notes of the buccina echoed across the field and those warriors still to cross the wall looked around in panic. The spathas of the ala cut and hacked the unarmoured bodies of those to their front for the armoured warriors were already climbing the walls.

Inside the fort Marius looked at Gnaeus. “Was that a Roman horn?”

“Aye but it is coming from the wrong direction. “

“Do you think they have captured one and playing tricks with our minds?”

Gnaeus shook his head. “You have to be trained to play one of these. A Roman blew that.  We might just survive yet old friend.” With renewed heart and optimism they fought even harder.

Marius shouted his order as the first wave of warriors surged over the wall destroying whole chunks in the process. “Lock shields. Go for the legs first.” The men who were heading towards him were dressed in captured Roman mail and Lorica segmenta. Some also had helmets which meant they were almost as well protected as the auxiliaries. Romans knew how to defeat such warriors. Go for the legs and when they fell, the unprotected neck. Although tired with arms heavy with fatigue, the auxiliaries performed like a well oiled machine and the first Caledonii fell to the waiting gladii. Some of the warriors at the back began hurling their war hammers and this began to take its toll as the heavy weapons of war struck shields and helmets, incapacitating all that they struck. The second ranks stepped up to take the place of fallen comrades but the weight of warriors was taking its toll and the depleted Roman ranks became even thinner.

Macro had taken his turma to the very edge of the barbarian attack.  When they wheeled to charge those on the left of the Caledonii line found themselves assaulted and attacked by men from the flank and the rear.  It was too much for unarmoured men and they began to flee towards their comrades in the middle.  It was a confused mass of men who were trying to escape the vengeful Roman blades. They became compacted and the arrows began to fell more men as every arrow found a target.  Some of the warriors evaded the Roman line and ran back to the safety of the tree line.  Their escape was short lived for Decurion Cilo and his grim faced turma cut them down before they were halfway there.

In the centre Gaius wield his mighty sword, its gleaming blade glinting majestically in the early morning sun.  Such was the power of the sword that none could stand in its path and Gaius found himself the tip of the arrow as his turma forged forward through the warriors who fell like wheat before the relentless blades of the ala. The gate had been destroyed by the Caledonii and Gaius headed for it. The warriors inside the fort heard the thunder of the hooves and two lines of armoured barbarians turned to face their enemies. These warriors would not flee for they were blood brothers of Ninian and Lulach.  They would die fighting. Gaius could see the war axes and hammers awaiting him. Dropping the reins of his horse he slid out his last javelin and hurled it at a red bearded giant. Thrown from a few paces it ripped through his throat and struck the man behind in his arm; as the two fell a gap opened and Gaius headed for it the sword of Cartimandua slicing down on the unprotected neck of the warrior to his right. The small opening became larger as trooper after trooper crashed through the weakening line.

Marius saw the wakening of the line and gave his own order. “Forward.” No longer on the defensive, the whole line punched their shields and slashed with their gladii. For the first time in two days the Caledonii were unsure of victory. They were being assaulted on two sides and although they could not see the numbers of cavalry it was a large enough force to put their attack in jeopardy.

Ninian saw the big Centurion rallying and leading his men.  He was the leader. If he could kill him then the rest would succumb. He hacked down one auxiliary and thrust his spear at the unprotected side of the Centurion. Suddenly the blade was knocked down by the standard of the cohort. “No you don’t you sneaky bastard.” Gnaeus stabbed with his gladius at the groin of the huge warrior but the sword in Ninian’s hand beat it down. Slashing with his spear Ninian caught Gnaeus across the thigh and he dropped to one knee.

Ninian sensed his victory and drew his blade back to despatch the brave standard bearer still grasping the cohort’s standard for all to see. As the blade crashed down it met a jarring jolt as Marius blocked the blow with his shield. Before the spear could do any more damage the Centurion chopped it half way down its length leaving the Caledonii leader with just his sword. Marius had fought too many times to waste a moment and, as he punched Ninian in the face, he sliced back hand diagonally to cut through the warrior’s throat. The blood sprayed all around. The infuriated Caledonii fought even more ferociously but all order had gone and the inexorable tide of Roman blades ended the blood kin of Ninian.

Those warriors who could flee got out of the fort any way that they could and Decius watched with dismay as some hundreds streamed towards the woods.  Had his horses not been exhausted Decius would have ordered them to cut them down but he knew that his task was only half complete. They still had many more enemies to defeat before they would be safe.