Hosker, G [Sword of Cartimandua 03] Invasion- Caledonia Read online

  Just then Gaelwyn arrived in the camp. He looked around at the wounded being tended and sniffed. “I see you missed my nose again.”

  Slightly irritated by the insensitive comment Marcus snapped. “Well what did you find?”

  Ignoring the rebuke the Brigante warrior idly picked his nose and, examining the result said, “There are a few thousand tribesmen waiting all along the beaches of Mona. And before you ask there was no sign of the fleet. I found a stream a mile up the coast with a path going into the hills.” When Marcus looked him expectantly he carried on, “I only mention it because when I went up it I found the Ordovice camp.”Their faces showed their surprise.

  “Well thank you Gaelwyn, now go and have your food.”

  Turning to leave he added more seriously. “And there are thousands of them, a legion and half in your numbers.”

  “I think we had better find the general.”

  Chapter 3

  The general was up well before dawn. The cold night had left more mist around the beach and the camp. As Marcus and the two prefects made their way to Agricola’s tent he wondered about the magic of the island. The mist did not seem natural for it also hung around the tops of the hills and mountains as though the gods were protecting this sacred and holy land.

  “Thank you gentlemen. Thanks to Marcus’ scout, a most interesting man by the way Decurion, we know where the enemy camp is. I propose to attack at first light.”

  Cassius Bassus looked incredulous, “But they outnumber us by at least five to one and we will be attacking up hill!”

  “Do you doubt your men prefect?”

  “Well no sir but uphill and outnumbered!”

  “You forget our advantages. Arms, training and discipline with those we will win. Our plan of battle is quite simple. The legionaries will be in three lines in the centre, The Batavians on the right and your men Cassius Bassus on the left. We have no artillery but I will require one cohort of your men Prefect Bassus to guard the wounded and the supplies. Decurion Princeps Maximunius will take his men on foot,” the gasp from Bassus was so loud they all looked at him, “will take his men on foot.” He repeated, “That is right prefect on foot. Have you a problem with that Decurion?”

  “No sir the men are all prepared.”

  “Good. Your scout can take you behind their camp and when they engage my front line fall upon their rear. Should be simple. Any questions?”

  Any questions they might have had died on their lips. As they left Bassus turned to Marcus. “I’ll say this for him, he has balls of iron that one. Your lads manage the fighting on foot?”

  “It is not as if we have to make a frontal attack, ours is the easy part.”

  “Only if we win, if we don’t then this could be the end of the Pannonian cavalry.”

  Inir and his men were in position as the sun lit up the island of Mona gleaming like a jewel glinting in the west. The Ordovices took this to be a sign that the gods smiled upon them and they eagerly took up heir battle line. The Ordovice warrior was small and squat and whilst in many places this could be a disadvantage here on a steep slope it was an advantage. They could run quickly down the hill and be less likely to fall over. The speed down the hill would increase their momentum and Inir was certain that a pathetic three deep line could not stand against them.

  As his men marched down the hill he was shocked to find the Romans advancing towards him. He had expected them to wait until he attacked but they were going to win the battle for him. If they were moving then it would be harder for them to stand their ground. With a roar his men crashed down the hill like rocks from an angry Wyddfa. If he thought this would intimidate his enemies and make them flee he was wrong. They continued their steady and remorseless march towards the screaming barbarians. He could see the centurions in their distinctive helmets and the standard bearers looking along the lines to make sure they were straight and he wondered at this war machine he was about to take on. They appeared to be calm as though on a parade not being charged by the Ordovice. He had not time for further thoughts as they approached within forty paces. Suddenly, and without a command being spoken the whole line hurled their javelins, spearing warriors and throwing them back into their comrades following on. The front line disintegrated as warriors fell and others, coming on behind tripped and fell over the dead and dying or trampled them where they lay. Still the Romans did not falter. The front lines passed their javelins to the men behind, locked their shields and went to work with their gladii.

  Inir found that he was unable to land a blow which did any damage. He was the tallest man in the Ordovice line and able to smash his sword down on the legionaries in front of him but there always seemed to be a shield in the way. Next to him he felt men fall as the deadly blades slid under, through and over the shields to find the vital organs of the unarmoured men. The javelins continued to be hurled by those in the second and third ranks whilst the archers amongst the auxiliaries sent flight after flight into the rear ranks. The centurions were calmness itself, killing efficiently and warning those legionaries who were in danger of dropping their guard to ‘pick up that bloody shield’. Seeing the general himself in the front line Inir determined to end this in the way of the tribes by killing their leader in single combat. Once their leader was dead his men would surely flee. He and his bodyguard left the front rank and made their way through the sea of enraged warriors until they was facing Agricola. One of the legionaries to the left of the general stumbled and Inir took the opportunity of smashing his sword down on the shield of the Roman leader. In all his previous combats such a blow would have ended the contest for he would have broken the shield. Agricola merely turned the shield slightly so that the blade slid harmlessly down. So surprised was Inir that he failed to counter with his own shield and the general’s blade sliced through his unprotected side. Although not a fatal blow it was a disabling blow and Inir’s bodyguards closed around him to protect him.

  The momentum of the charge had now left the tribesmen who had many ranks deep but their front ranks were being butchered in a clinical fashion by legionaries and auxiliaries alike. Although the legionaries fought in a tighter formation the auxiliaries kept a tight line and were well disciplined.

  High up on the hill, behind the extreme left flank of the Ordovice line, Decius was heaving to catch his breath. “Sod this for a game of dice. I just want a horse.”

  Macro was barely breathing, “Well sir after this is over I think I will have to give you some extra training. You are not fit.”

  “You two shut it!” Marcus’ whispered command sounded like a crack of thunder. “Decurions form line!” The whole ala formed an oblique line with Marcus in the middle, Decius on the extreme right and Agrippa on the extreme left. “Sound the buccina!” The strident call of the buccina seemed to echo around the mountain tops and the ala moved down the hill, not at a charge but a fast walk. Marcus was determined to maintain cohesion. The first warriors they encountered were fleeing towards them and were so surprised to find Romans in their rear that they were easily despatched. Soon they could see the rear ranks of the Ordovice who were looking nervously over their shoulders having heard the screams of their slain comrades. When they saw the approaching Romans many of them panicked and they ran towards the Romans advancing down the hill. Others bravely charged the Roman line led by Agricola but in both cases they met the solid line of Romans piecemeal and were slaughtered. In the centre Marcus wielded the sword of Cartimandua effortlessly and it seemed to sing a song of death in the early morning breeze. Its razor sharp blade sliced limbs from the warriors regardless of any armour.

  Soon the lines of warriors thinned out as they tried to escape but they were encircled. There were Romans all around them. The net tightened inexorably and more and more barbarians fell to legionary and auxiliary alike. Finally there was a knot of men gathered forlornly around their wounded leader and Marcus wondered if the general was in a mood for prisoners. He could see however that Agricola’s face hardened and the leg
ionaries continued to chop their way through the ever decreasing circle of bondsmen until the general himself decapitated the erstwhile king of the Ordovice and held it aloft waving it to a cheering and rampant Roman army.

  As they began clearing the dead from the battlefield Marcus could not believe how few Romans had died and how many barbarians had perished. He looked over at Agricola who was wandering the field talking to his men. The next time Agricola made a decision which appeared to go against logic Marcus would trust his judgement. Watching his own men he was proud. They had fought in a way which was unnatural to them but coped as though they had been doing it their whole life. None of his decurions had died or even sustained an injury. The only worry thought was that not only Decius but some of the others had shown they were not as fit as they might be. Marcus decided that Macro was right and they should become fitter warriors. When they had the time he would initiate a training programme to build up muscles not used when on horseback.

  Fainch

  Fainch was beside herself with anger. Watching from the shoreline she had seen her Ordovice allies disobey her orders and the result was the slaughter of more than half the warriors available to her. She watched as the Romans built and burnt pyres of warriors whose lives had been thrown away needlessly. She turned to the king, “King Gwynfor you obviously picked the wrong warrior for the task.”

  “I cannot understand it; Inir was a brave and cunning warrior. Perhaps he thought there were too few Romans.”

  Fainch considered this. “Perhaps. Certainly there were fewer than I expected.” She hated it when her planning was thwarted. The warriors had every advantage, terrain, numbers, time of day; how could they have lost? What if this general had already sent his fleet to the other side of the island? She knew he had another legion perhaps they were already moving to the northern coast? “You may have been right when you said they would use ships. We will await the fleet for I cannot believe that they will launch an attack with the pitiful numbers we saw.”

  In a quiet voice a chastened Gwynfor added, “Those pitiful few destroyed my warriors.”

  Glaring at the downcast king she snapped,” We will await them inland make sure your watchers send the signal when the fleet is sighted.”

  The next day was spent preparing for the invasion. Cassius and Cominius shared with Marcus their worries about the actual invasion. “Without the Classis Britannica I cannot see how we will affect landing on the beach.”

  Cominius gestured at Marcus. “His scout Gaelwyn said that there are many trees close to the shore just down the coast. Perhaps we will build rafts.”

  “That would take too much time. No I think he will wait for the fleet.”

  “I do not think so.”

  “Why Marcus what do you know?”

  “I know that he does not always take the easy approach and he does things which his enemies and even his friends do not expect. I will wait. When he is ready to tell us he will do so. I think it will be an interesting experience, whatever it is.”

  The general called them together for a briefing late in the afternoon. “I have set the legionaries to felling some trees.” Cominius looked at Marcus and tapped the side of his nose. Marcus merely shrugged. “We begin the crossing at first light. We will cross there.” He gestured to the narrowest point between the mainland and the island. Marcus estimated it about fifteen hundred paces. Not far to punt a raft.”

  Cassius spoke up. “What opposition can we expect?”

  “The barbarians appear to have moved from the shore but we estimate their numbers to be the same as we fought yesterday. The difference will be, Prefect, that we will attack without the legionaries.” The shock in the meeting was visible in all the faces except for Marcus. The legionaries were the elite, the cutting edge of any attack it was madness to leave your best troops cooling their heels.

  “But sir.”

  “Trust me prefect. Trust me.” He glanced over to Marcus. “The Decurion does not appear to be perturbed, why are you?”

  “Well… it is not normal to attack with just auxiliaries when there are legionaries available.”

  “As it is not normal to fight with dismounted cavalry or uphill or any of the things we have done. Do you not see Prefect Sura that it is by doing the unexpected that we will win? They have learned over the years how we fight and they count on us fighting the same way. Make sure your men are well rested for the success of the invasion lies with them.”

  As they left Marcus turned with a wry smile, “I wish I had put some denari on the general’s decision.”

  “You have the gift Marcus, you can foretell the future.”

  “No Cassius but I am coming to know our general. I think we will succeed tomorrow.”

  Decius and Agrippa were not too certain when Marcus briefed them. “I don’t know sir. I mean he has been lucky so far but I hate boats and a raft is not even a boat it is just a log that floats.”

  Julius and some of the younger decurions were quite excited. “I think they will get a surprise when we suddenly arrive on the beach.”

  “It might be fine for us but what about the horses. Some of them are jittery at the best of times and a raft is fairly unstable.”

  “Stop speculating.” They all looked at Marcus. “We don’t even know it is a raft. It may be something else entirely.”

  Decius smiled, “A bridge! It could be a bridge. Now a bridge I don’t mind.”

  Just then Cominius came hurrying past after a meeting with Agricola. He was grinning. He gestured for Marcus to join him. “I have been sworn to secrecy but I can tell you Marcus it isn’t a bridge and it isn’t a raft. I have to go and choose a couple of likely lads I have a job for them.” Marcus deemed it unnecessary to frighten Decius any more than he was already.

  The next morning as dawn broke over the snowy tops of Wyddfa, Marcus led his men down to the beach. Marcus apart, they were all expecting to see rafts constructed by the legionaries. It was a shock to see that the straits were empty apart from two ropes about half a mile apart which went from the mainland to the Mona shore. Peering into the gloom, Decius expressed the views of most of the troopers. “Does he think we can do a tightrope walk over that?”

  Laughing Marcus pointed across the straits to where eight armed Batavians stood guard at each end of the two ropes. “Look. The Batavians have secured them I think we are going to get wet. Dismounting Marcus led his horse to the water’s edge to where the general awaited.

  “Ah Decurion. From your expression I think you have deduced what we intend to do?”

  “Yes sir but I think it has come as a bit of a shock to my lads. Should I tell them or do you want that pleasure?”

  “Your command Marcus, you tell them but be quick about it. I want the men in the water as soon as they are informed. The infantry auxiliaries will be going on either side of you. You and your horses will go in the middle.”

  “Right sir.”

  Turning to his men who stood with expressions ranging from horror on Decius’ face, to a bemused look on Julius’ childlike visage.”Well the general has decided that we smell a bit and has asked us to take a bath. While we do it we will cross the straits so that when we meet the Ordovices we will smell a little sweeter.” He allowed a moment for that to sink in. “Dismount. On my command we will lead the horses into the water. Hang on to their manes and they will swim us across. For those of you who have never done this you will find it easier if you kick your legs in the water.”

  A lone voice piped up, “But I can’t swim!”

  Decius had regained his composure. “Well now is the time to learn. Besides all you have to do is hang on to the bloody horse. Be thankful you aren’t the infantry; the non-swimmers have to hang on to a log.”

  Glancing at the general who nodded, Marcus shouted, “Decurions lead off your turma and keep it steady.” The first one in the water was Marcus who hoped that he could hang on, if not his armour would drag him to a watery death.

  He found it remarkably easy, al
l of the horse’s movements were below the water and the powerful beasts made little of the current. The trooper behind hazarded a question many had been thinking. “Why the two ropes sir?”

  “Simple. Any man who falls off will be swept along to one or the other. He just hangs on and then pulls himself across.”

  Gaius shouted over, “What about the barbarians?” He gestured with his arm to where a few hundred had gathered to watch in amazement. Marcus saw someone point inland and a warrior ran off as fast as he could.

  “If these are the only ones then I don’t think we have a problem.” He raised his voice above the splashing. “Decurions form up as soon as we land. Pass it on.” The message rippled across the water as the message was taken up. To his surprise Marcus found that Argentium was touching bottom. They were almost there. He slid the Sword of Cartimandua and raised it above his head. As soon as all four feet of his mount were on the dry sand he yelled, “Mount!” He looked around and was pleased to see that there were over a hundred of them already on their mounts. Some of the stronger Batavian swimmers were also standing in defensive stance. The tribesmen had fled.

  Looking over at a dripping Decius who was shaking water from his helmet and ears he shouted, “Well that was fun wasn’t it?”

  “I don’t know who is madder, you or the general.”

  By the time the men had formed up the general had swum ashore. “By Neptune that was exhilarating. I may never build another bridge again.”

  “Just out of interest sir where did you get the idea from?”

  “Britannia of course!” He saw the quizzical look on the decurion’s face. “When we first invaded the general ordered the Batavians to swim across the Tamesis and outflank the enemy while the legions built a bridge. Batavians are good swimmers. Between you and me, I think they are part fish. Still it worked. Now the legionaries can swim across and we can tow their arms on small rafts. Simple eh?”

  “Yes sir.”