Hosker, G [Sword of Cartimandua 12] Roman Wall (22 page)

“Me too, sir. I don’t know how you and the other Explorates ever did that job. This is bad enough but at least there are thirty odd of us.  You did this in ones and twos.”

Marcus smiled at the memory of those far off days. “You get used to it and it was easier than this.  Here I worry about all of you.  As an Explorate you just worried about yourself.”

Marcus did not feel fully recovered as he mounted Raven the next day but he had his duty and besides there was no alternative.  In the ala you just got on with it.

“Felix, see what is ahead.”

As they rode up the partly finished Roman Road Marcus wondered if they would ever recover the land they had lost.  He had met the Emperor Hadrian and, although a good Emperor, he seemed happy to settle for the frontier where it was. Marcus’ father had told him how Agricola had almost conquered the whole of the Province.  They had come so close it seemed a shame to settle for half of Britannia.

Now that he had used his spear and left it in a dead Selgovae Marcus would have to go back to relying on the Sword of Cartimandua.  He did not mind.  It had never let him down. He believed it was a good luck charm.  The wound yesterday could have been worse if it had struck an artery.  The sword would continue to protect him so long as he was true to his calling; he was a warrior.

Felix ran back down the road with Wolf in close attendance.  He looked agitated, “Stand to and ready your weapons.”

He looked genuinely upset. “Sir, I have found the other turma.  They are on the other side of the woods.”

Marcus asked no more questions for the look on Felix’s face and the crows, magpies and ravens swirling in the sky bespoke their own story. As they crested the rise they saw thirty bodies impaled upon stakes.  The heads were all missing.

The whole turma approached silently. There was no hurry. They were not recently killed.  Marcus could smell the bodies. As he looked he realised that the one body which was missing was Marius’.  He would ponder that later. “Chosen Man, get the bodies off the stakes.”

“What do we do with them sir?”

“We burn them!”

“But sir, the Selgovae will see the smoke.”

Marcus’ voice was as cold as his eyes as he said, “Burn them while I try to work out what happened here. Felix, come with me.”

As an Explorate he had been taught to read signs and make inferences. He saw that at least half of the troopers had been dead before they had been impaled.  It was obvious that some of the others had been impaled alive for there were huge puddles of blood and dark soil lying at the base of the stakes. Some of the turma must have surrendered or been overcome.

“Felix where did the ambush take place?”

He and Wolf trotted off in a large circle and Marcus watched as his men took the bodies off the stakes as carefully as if the troopers were still alive.  These were their friends and they would honour them in death. Other troopers were gathering wood for the pyre.

Felix had disappeared. There was another rise ahead and the scout appeared there. Marcus mounted Raven and rode towards him. His leg was not strong enough for walking yet. When he reached the top of the rise he saw the ambush site. There were four dead and partly butchered horses lying between a stand of trees. There was a great deal of blood on the trees and the road.

Felix pointed as he spoke.  “Many Selgovae hid behind these bushes. They had some sort of barricade here.” He gestured to a track in the grass and the tree trunks which had been dragged away. “They did the same at the other end.”

Marcus nodded.  Poor Marius was inexperienced.  You never took your men into a narrow gap.  You scouted, you waited, you smelled, you took a different route; what you did not do was what he had done and ride between trees where you could be surrounded and slaughtered.

“Any sign of the decurion?”

Felix shook his head.  “The horses and the warriors headed south.”

As he returned to his men he knew that they had taken Marius with them to Luguvalium. He thought he knew why.  He hoped his young friend was already dead but in his heart he knew that he was not.

Gnaeus had waited for the decurion to return before burning the bodies. The stakes were laid alternatively to form a funeral pyre for the thirty warriors who had died.  Marcus nodded and Gnaeus lit the fire.  It seemed to take an age to get going and thick black smoke billowed up into the skies.

Titus shook his head, “We might as well tell them where we are.  We will be joining these soon, Chosen Man.”

Gnaeus shook his head, “You don’t believe that.  We have the best decurion in the ala.  He wouldn’t walk into a trap like these lads. We just have to keep him alive.”

Chapter 16

Tiernan proudly paraded the bleeding and wounded decurion.  He was tethered to his own horse and had been half dragged the fifteen miles from the ambush site.  King Feanan and his Novontae took this as a good omen. They had a Roman officer. Although they had not brought the numbers the Selgovae had the king knew his warriors would relish the chance to do as Tiernan had done. This was a Roman from their horse warriors.  They were a fierce foe. It was a sign that the gods were impressed. He wondered now at the wisdom of leaving a third of his forces to guard his homeland.

King Tole was impressed. “A fine prisoner, brother.”

Tiernan nodded.  “We killed all the others.” He sneered at the chiefs who had lost men to these horse warriors. “I brought him here to guarantee victory.  We will sacrifice him here in the river.”

Although King Tole would have liked to make that decision he thought it a good one.  “You are right brother and we will show the priestess that we too can make a sacrifice which will ensure victory.”

Marius was stripped and his hands bound behind him. Tiernan and Tole themselves took him to the edge of the river across from the legionary fortress.  He knew that the garrison was watching them which was why they had chosen this spot. Tiernan wielded the hammer.  He struck Marius on the side of the head.  For Marius it was a mercy.  If he could he would have ended his own life.  He had been a fool and his men had paid for his mistake with their lives.

Tiernan held up the limp decurion while Tole slowly throttled him. He hoped he had not killed him for he wished the gods to reward them for this sacrifice.  Finally he took his knife and slashed the throat of the young officer.  The blood spurted; it showed that he was still alive. The watching warriors screamed their joy. Tiernan threw the body into the water as Tole shouted, “Allfather, take this Roman as a sacrifice and grant us victory.”

Even if the garrison did not see exactly what happened they saw the tribal tokens and the weapons waving in the late afternoon light. They heard the roar from the barbarians and prepared themselves for the worst. The Selgovae and the Novontae were coming. The mixed cohort readied themselves.  They would be fighting for their lives soon.

With the bodies still burning Marcus led his troopers west. They had to find Rufius. He would assume that Marius was to the east of him.  Marcus could not leave Rufius isolated. Felix ran, not along the rough tribal road, but through the trees.  He was able to move as quickly as though on the road but he was hidden and that was important.  Drugi had taught him well.  He and Wolf were like two shadows that flickered through the trees.

The Romans had built few forts in the land of the Novontae and even fewer roads.  It was a wild hilly country.  As Felix ran through this new land he began to worry about the decurion and his men.  The sight of the headless corpses had shaken the Brigante scout.  That sort of thing did not happen to the horse warriors he served.

Suddenly Wolf stopped and his ears pricked.  A low growl emanated from his throat. From the growl Felix knew that it meant an enemy ahead. He unslung his bow and took out an arrow in the blink of an eye. He sniffed and then he peered. The rough road was thirty paces below him.  It was fortunate he had avoided it for there were two warriors hiding in the trees with their own bows ready to ambush anyone loping along. Felix had a dilemma. He had been told to find the lost turma. If he returned now he might have to travel a long way to get around this obstacle.  On the other hand if he failed to kill them then they might summon others.

He notched an arrow and slipped a little further west so that the barbarians’ backs were towards him.  They would not expect an attack from that direction. He breathed slowly.  At thirty paces distance he should not miss. The arrow thudded into the back of the first Novontae.  The second hesitated as his companion fell next to him.  The delay allowed Felix to notch another arrow and, as the warrior turned the arrow struck him in the throat.

Felix saw that they were dead and continued to head west.  He had travelled no more than five hundred paces when he heard the sound of battle. He ran a little quicker.  The ground began to fall away as the sounds grew louder. He stopped when he came to the edge of the road.  There, on the hill opposite, was a deserted Roman fort. He could see the warriors attacking it. The standard which still stood amongst the defenders told him that they were Rufius and his men.

He turned and ran swiftly back through the forest.  The trail ran in a circle around the base of this hill and he made good time.  He saw the turma. They were on the road.  He ran as fast as he could and slithered down the last slope to appear next to Marcus’ horse.

“Sir, the decurion is being attacked.  They are two miles away at a Roman fort.”

“Good work, Felix. You wait here for us.” Felix nodded and began to get his breath back.  Wolf panted next to him.  They had both run themselves to the point of exhaustion.  They needed the rest.

Marcus urged Raven on and the turma galloped down the road. The decurion did not need to tell his men what they were about.  The headless troopers and Felix’s agitated state told them that their comrades were in trouble. Every trooper readied his spear and, as they rode along the rough road, slung his shield on to his shoulder.

Marcus’ mind was working out the best approach. If he was able to then Rufius would have fled such a trap. That meant that he was surrounded.  That helped Marcus to come up with a solution to the problem.  The enemy would have to spread their numbers around a perimeter. Marcus would punch a hole in one side and provide an escape route for Rufius. He shouted as they rode. “Gnaeus I want a wedge when we near the enemy. We are going to clear the barbarians from one side of the fort.”

He heard, “Sir!”

“Titus, have the horn ready, I will tell you when I want the charge sounding!”

“Sir!”

Even above the sound of the horses’ hooves they could hear the sound of battle. Marcus hoped that they were not too late.  If Rufius and his men were dead by the time they arrived then his own turma could be in dire straits. The road bent around the hill and Marcus saw the beleaguered turma. They had a barricade before them.  The old Roman ditches helped them and Marcus recognised Rufius as he jabbed down with his spear.  Had the Novontae had arrows then this would be over but they had been forced to fight an enemy with height advantage. Marcus saw at least fifty warriors fighting on their side of the fort.

The ground flattened out.  “Wedge!”

Gnaeus appeared on his right and Titus on his left. The barbarians were so intent on the fort that they did not hear the drumming of the hooves until the last minute. As the warriors at the bottom of the hill turned, Marcus shouted, “Sound the charge!”

The buccina’s notes and the screams of the skewered warriors were almost simultaneous. Marcus had no spear and he leaned forward to slice his sword and split open the skull of the Novontae before him. He was the point of the arrow which was driving inexorably up the hill.  Their momentum carried them half way up and then they started to slow.

In the fort a desperate Rufius had seen the attack and heard the buccina. He shouted, “Chosen Man, pull back those on the west of the hill and mount up.  Help is at hand. It is the Sword of Cartimandua!” That magical name brought instant hope to the fifteen troopers who remained. Rufius jabbed his spear into the side of the warrior who made the mistake of half turning to see the danger below him.

“Get on your horses! Now!” Rufius swung his spear in a long arc. The Novontae recoiled and he ran to the picket line and leapt on to his horse. The remaining troopers had grabbed their horses and Rufius could see the barbarians flooding over the western wall. There were just fourteen troopers left.

“Charge!”

The ragged line leapt the ditch and the vengeful troopers hacked and stabbed at the shocked Novontae.  Their horses had been rested and their leap struck and killed many warriors. Hooves killed as effectively as a spear sometimes. Suddenly there were no more Novontae. Marcus was there before him.

“Sir, head down the road.  We will cover your withdrawal.” Rufius nodded.  “Javelins!” His turma had one javelin each left and they threw them at the Novontae who appeared at the fort’s edge. The ones who were not struck took shelter. “Sound the recall, Titus!”

The buccina sounded. Marcus was proud of his troopers as they wheeled their mounts around and descended the steep slope.  The infuriated warriors tried to purse them but the horses were more surefooted and they were able to leap the dead Novontae whilst the warriors tripped and fell. Gnaeus and Marcus rode at the rear of the column of troopers. They kept glancing behind them but the Novontae gradually stopped.  He heard their cheers ringing at the top of the fort.  They regarded this as a victory. Their enemy had fled. If so it had been a costly one. The bodies of their warriors lay in piles around the fort.  Rufius’ men had not died without a fight.

Rufius did not stop until he and his men reached Felix. They dismounted for there were wounded. “Marcus we need your capsarius; mine was killed.”

“Capsarius, see to the wounded. Gnaeus, put scouts out on the road.  The Novontae may return. Felix, we will camp where we did last night.  See if it is clear.” The scout ran down the road

Rufius drank from his water skin.  He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “That was a timely intervention but we were not expecting you.  What made you leave your patrol?”