Caratacus

Chapter Eight

The sun was descending in the sky by the time Varro and his small party reached the outer defences and sentries of the Second Augusta. After a difficult approach made almost deadly by their local clothing an Optio had them escorted into the inner defences and past the palisades. Now the rest of the group were fed and watered as Varro briefed the senior officers and introduced Brenna and Tevelgus. They briefed them about their recent experiences and the Britons were questioned about the local lands and people. As they returned to the others he saw that Marcus and Lucius had found them.

“Marcus, Lucius,” the smile on his face unable to hide his relief that they were safe. He clasped they’re arms but sensed something from them, “What, what is it?”

Lucius replied, “We got the bitch that killed Veranius.” He looked at Marcus, “Marcus made sure that she will never hold a knife to another soldier ever again.”

Marcus made no comment, there was merely a cold look of satisfaction in his eyes that meant that he didn’t have to say a word. Varro knew that she would have been made to suffer as she went to the next life and that was all he could ask. He looked at Brenna her expression also requiring no words. There wasn’t any sign of sympathy for the dead woman, she turned and saw to the horses

They shared some watered wine and food, fresh bread and olives and sat watching the flames of the fire one of the men had started. Varro had known that the invasion of Britannia would prove hard but it was only now that he was beginning to realise just what price they were going to have to pay to conquer this land. They had only been on the shores a few days and already hundreds of dead heroic citizens were fertilising the soil beneath their boots. It was going to be a long campaign as the months stretched into years and maybe even decades but it was the way of things for a centurion and all the Legions who had come here, it was their life, it was how he and they lived.

Brenna saw the worry and concern in his eyes but knew that words alone wouldn’t help. She realised that she wanted to wrap herself around him, remove his clothing, wash his body and lose herself in their combined sensuality but now was not the time or the place. As dawn broke, the smell and crackle of the much reduced fire woke Varro. He was surprised to find Brenna lying next to him, her big brother still sleeping nearby. He sat up looking around as the Legion began to come to life all around.

Soldiers were returning from guard duty or swapping over duties laughing and joking with their counterparts. Breakfast was being cooked as the smell of cooking meat and bread wafted over to him. Horses were being fed and shod, blacksmiths hammers sounded and the more lively horses were whinnying in the distance. Weapons were being sharpened and oiled, men were briefed in small groups and patrols mounted and the sun wasn’t even properly above the horizon.

An hour later wearing new armour and carrying replacement weapons Varro and his small group rode out of camp. He gently kicked at his horse whilst acknowledging a guard who saluted as he rode passed. The guard watched as they cantered away wondering where they were going in this hostile land away from the safety of the Legion and said a silent prayer to the gods in thanks that it wasn’t him going into the wilderness and for their protection.

Some hours later they began to see familiar land marks.

“I suggest we go to my settlement. We can get some help and bolster our numbers and then go and find Caratacus.” Brenna said. Varro nodded in agreement as they trotted forward to an area where visibility was being to beginning to fade.

Eerily through the mist and fog, very slowly, high manmade embankments began to emerge. Further up, high up there on the hill, the upper parts of trees could be made out. The soldiers stood in their columns staring up at the emplacement some three hundred feet above them. It was the first such fortified encampment the Second Augusta had found since crossing the sea and it filled some of the less experienced with dread. The builders of this settlement had used the natural isolated hill as it dominated the land around and it made a perfect home for its inhabitants.

The Britons had obviously constructed this hill fort sometime in the past, probably to fend off neighbouring tribes. They had made the best use of natural resources and defences building it so high using height, trees and the earth itself, that had been dug out from the surrounding hillside and then built up to make high steep walls. Large trenches had been dug out of the hillside circling around the large prominence and the excess material had been used to build up the large mud packed walls slightly further up. It made the fortification easily defendable and an extremely hard emplacement to attack. That thought was now going through the minds of thousands of assembled soldiers gathered below its slopes.

Only two entrances or exits had been found at opposite sides of the hill fort with clearly defined tracks leading to both. Wagons had worn paths down the hill and in through the woods below. It would prove a difficult target where the defenders had every advantage. The Romans could choose to siege the fort and go round and continue their advance west but that wasn’t their way and so the army began to dig in and make preparations to assault the site. Early reconnaissance had suggested that there were over fifty dwelling houses inside which could mean over five hundred warriors armed and prepared to fight to the death to defend their families and land.

Once in a while a horse could be heard from inside the fort along with other animals as smoke from various fires reached for the blue skies from within, so far it had been the only evidence of habitation. The mist now barley clung to the trees as it had since the area was first discovered three days before by Varro and his small group. Brenna had gone forward and had tried to persuade the inhabitants to talk to the Romans but they had refused and threatened to hang her from the nearest tree, her influence had no sway this far west. She watched now some hundreds of feet away and wondered at the hill forts fate. The Legions strength could not be denied but the natural advantage here was with her fellow country men and women.

As tactics of the attack were finalised by Vespasian and his officers, an iron fist enclosed the huge hillside. Roman forces had now encircled the area completely and the defiant Britons were alone, cut off from any help or rescue. Vespasian knew the chance of anyone coming to their aid was remote because of their tribal nature and had taken his time preparing for the inevitable attack. Neighbouring areas were at best lived with side by side at worst bitter enemies although some alliances were not to be ruled out entirely. He thought they were too primitive to organise themselves properly but hill forts like the one towering above them, proved a different threat.

All around him the instruments of war were dragged, towed and pulled into place as men and horses toiled. Varro stood nearby and saw the gathered officers talking and pointing up to the hill. He felt his stomach lurch as he contemplated the days ahead and looked around him wondering who of those he saw would still be breathing in two or three days’ time. In comparison to recent battles in Gaul this would be a minor skirmish but it was like a boil and it had to be lanced.

Heavy infantry troops were briefed in their columns, as were the light, archers and artillery crews and even the equestrian, the Britons surely didn’t stand a chance he concluded so why fight and die, would he if he were on the opposite side? He thought that he probably would if men from a foreign land had come and threatened his way of life. Men, women, children and livestock were about to die and be erased from the earth because their leaders had chosen to fight. The encased Britons had been given three opportunities to surrender and had turned all of them down and so now the butchers prepared their tools before the bill could be paid.

The enemy’s leader a tribal chieftain called Cavaltergex had spat in the face of Brenna as she begged him to leave the fort to speak to Vespasian. He had called her a diseased whore and vessel of the invader who would pay dearly for her treachery. These Britons were stubborn but proud and now it was time to start beginning to test their determination to resist.

Brenna had still tried everything from begging and pleading to giving calm reassurance that Cavaltergex and his people would be treated well and allowed to live their lives as they had always done but it had all failed and fallen on deaf ears. He would not submit to the men below in their gleaming metal armour and so had sealed his own fate and that of all he knew. The assault would begin as soon as the sun was high in the sky the next day. Cavaltergex was breathing his last breaths and was already dead, he just didn’t know it. To defy Rome was to die and be obliterated and join others who had fallen before them, these Britons would enjoy the same end.

The following morning the sky was clear, remnants of fog clung to the trees above the soldiers but it was the clearest day since they had arrived. With the defences more distinct Varro could see that the Britons had used tree trunks bound together with vines and some other material beyond the mud banks. Rows of spiked walls could be seen as the upper lengths of trees could be observed clearly now. Dark shaded bodies moved between the small gaps in between the wooden walls indistinct from this distance, the defenders waiting for the attack to begin. Several billows of smoke rose into the air from somewhere above and a dog started to bark as if sensing what was to come.

A trumpet sounded, it was followed almost immediately by the vicious sound of the gathered ballista releasing their huge bolts. Like a row of giant graceful sleek birds they rose towards the hill fort hurtling with startling speed to their target and within seconds found their mark. Most embedded themselves into the wooden fortifications, some falling short and vanishing into the mud embankments buried deep, a few hit flesh as they seared through the gaps in the wood as screams were heard from within. Frantic cries followed and shouting as the Britons experienced something even their wildest nightmares couldn’t have foreseen, Roman warfare. Chunks of wood and giant splinters were thrown into the air exploding as the large arrows found targets a few of the forts walled logs were cleaved in two and gaps began to appear in their ranks.

Vespasian had ordered that the ballista continue firing until clear entry points were visible in the forts defences. After a time archers were brought forward about one hundred and fifty paces and joined in the murderous hail of fire, raining arrows up into the air to fall down on the inhabitants inside. More cries and screams of pain escaped the large compound above, the Britons were learning and learning well their mistake of defiance.

Varro watched on from the side lines as the ballista bolts took their toll. He and his party had found the hill fort a few days before and Brenna had tried her best to persuade her countrymen to yield to the advancing army. Two days from now they would ride out again after a well-deserved rest while Quintus and his men rode ahead. In the meantime he watched as the artillery teams toiled to launch their missiles, cranking tight their torsion machines, metal scraped against metal, men heaved and the large arrows loosed and whined as they sped into the air. They were making short work of the wooden walls.

Heavy infantry now took up their shields and began to move slowly forwards, a centurion signalling for his men to form a testudo, tortoise formation. The men lofted their big shields, those at the front hoisting them to cover their bodies at the front, those inside the column, raised them above their heads and those on the sides covered any attacks from ground level. As the shields overlapped the centurion vanished into a gap left open in the wall facing Varro and disappeared to give orders on the march, his red converse plume he saw intermittently amongst the shields and was distinct amongst the other helmets.

They didn’t have to wait long for a response from inside the fort as arrows began to fall, first into the attacking archers and ballista crews, who retreated backwards out of range and then onto the advancing column. Vespasian mounted on his horse ordered another column of heavy infantry forward pointing and waving with his sword to a trumpeter who sounded the advance. The arrows of the defenders landed heavily thumping into the shields of the advancing column assisted by gravity as they swiftly returned to earth. No obvious injuries were visible yet but any screams were drowned out by the rising sound of battle. As the first heavy infantry formed into the testudo and began to pass the area where their archers had been positioned, the shower of arrows became heavier. A horn suddenly broke the sounds of battle as a length of the hill forts defensive wall fell inward. Dust was thrown up as a result from the surface masking exactly what had happened but the infantry continued slowly forward now fully on the steep slope, small steps eating the up the ground between them and the enemy.

Varro saw a large Briton appear at the side of the gap in the wall as the dust began to settle and clear. He hefted a large sword above his head and shouted something unheard at the advancing Romans. He wore scruffy looking plaid trousers and no clothing over his upper body, his skin was covered in blue woad enhancing a muscular upper frame. Long grey hair was tied at the back and swung about as he gestured down the hill. He suddenly ducked and moved to the left as a large ballista bolt flew by that was aimed directly at him, he laughed and raised his sword shaking it at his enemy. Placing the hilt at his crotch, he aimed the blade at his attackers and simulated fucking them.

The second testudo was now on the base of the hillside and moving upwards as it began to take arrows to the front and above, the first already looked like a large advancing hedgehog with dozens of arrows embedded into its shields. Ballista bolts continued to fly over the advancing men as the attack was pushed forward, dust rose from the earth from their shuffling hobnail boots. As the first line of men in the original square got to within fifty paces of the now gesturing Briton, he turned and waved for something to come forward from within the settlement. Varro strained to see what was happening and stood up straighter but couldn’t see clearly as the advancing troops blocked his view.

He suddenly heard shouting from above and saw Roman shields thrown into the air and men at the side of the square breaking away from the testudo and then turn and run back down the hill. He was shocked as he hadn’t expected anything other than a quick assault on the relatively small hill fort. Men in the first square however, were now shouting, panicking and fully turning to retreat. Shields were thrown and abandoned as panic set in and the former square was rapidly reduced to a rabble.

As the men in the rear ranks jumped or turned to run, Varro saw what had happened. The Britons had rolled large logs into the advancing testudo knocking them over and backwards into the ranks behind sweeping the front rows of the shield wall aside. Their archers had then turned their full attention on the soldiers nearest to them and as they began to find their targets, more heavy infantry began to fall.

Injuries or loss of life was always expected in engagements of this nature but it was always a surprise when it happened especially when facing barbarians like this who were presumed to have had little tactical awareness. As the soldiers raced back down the hillside they tried to avoid the second testudo as it had now halted and had dug its shields into the ground. More Britons ran outside the hill fort and took up positions with bows and picked off the men further forward of the Roman line. Varro saw they were targeting legs in order to disable them and bring them down.

More Britons flooded out armed with spears that they hurled into the air at the retreating men. The first attack was quickly turning into disarray and more injured lay on the ground screaming in agony on the bloody hill. As the first of the rolling logs now crashed into the second testudo, it held firm but it now began to take more arrows to the front and above. The men formed up in tight ranks inside the testudo, huddled together their shields interlocked. Men from the first wave ran past them some who still had their shields tried to hold them over their backs as arrows fell.

Some of the Britons now ran forward and attacked the men who were injured, some with legs broken by the heavy rolling logs, unable to move. More screams broke the air as the Britons stabbed and slashed at the prone men already injured on the ground. Varro saw the enemy desperately searching for gaps between his comrades armour as they lay helpless on the slope, screams revealed they had found the flesh below. Where they couldn’t stab deep inside the invaders flesh they ripped away the armour and found their mark or chopped at their exposed faces. The second testudo could do nothing to help or it to would start to take casualties in the same fashion, all it could was hold firm for the time being.

Shouted orders could be heard from inside the second square as it slowly began to retreat backwards. The front rank had embedded their shields into the soft earth where they left them forming a wedge between their formation and the logs as they moved away. Shields were passed forward from the rear to cover what had been the front line.

The injured troops near the top of the hill were butchered where they lay all except three who were dragged inside the fortification screaming and kicking as best they could. As soon as they disappeared from sight the wall that Varro thought had fallen down was pulled and dragged back into place and the wooden wall was whole again except for where the ballista bolts had punched holes. Where those bolts had obliterated logs and parts of the fort, the Britons worked furiously from inside to repair or replace them or cover the damage.

Vespasian shouted orders and the blast of a horn resulted in the second testudo halting and digging in where it stood, it was still within range of the missiles from above. The already retreating men reached the safety of their own lines where an Optio barked orders for the injured to get treatment from the medicus and his orderlies at the rear. Slingers ran forward and took up a position behind the remaining testudo. Vespasian’s face red with rage, barked more orders, he was clearly determined to defeat the defenders above no matter what the cost.

Another horn ordered cavalry forward from somewhere in the woods, the horses cantered behind the existing testudo and slingers out of range of the falling arrows. As the ballista began to fire again, their bolts rattling forward into the air, the men already on the slope formed up in the tortoise formation began to advance once more, the slingers prepared their weapons. A direct hit from an accurate missile could kill a man as easily as an arrow or pila.

“Your general is determined to crush the settlement and isn’t afraid to lose valuable men in the process it seems, surely he could just retreat?” Brenna said pulling Varro out of his concentration on the battle.

He turned to look at her, “He can’t afford to do that, we can’t afford to do that. Any backward step would be seen as a sign of weakness, any weakness isn’t something the General does.”

They watched as the formation of shield covered soldiers continued up the hill, waiting for the inevitable counter attack from those inside, they didn’t have to wait long. As the testudo got to within a hundred paces the Britons appeared again and rained arrows and spears into the shields. The tempo picked up from the artillery as the ballista bolts intensified and hammered the un-armoured defenders outside the fort. Bodies stood launching arrows one second at the advancing men who were instantly propelled backwards in the blink of an eye. Some were blown and ripped backwards and vanished from sight instantly as others were pinned to the wooden walls behind them taking more with them who were unfortunate to be stood behind. The bolts even at this range, were so powerful that some passed through bodies before their victims were even aware of their injuries. Shock registered seconds later as they fell to the ground dead.

Light infantry now began the march upwards to the right as the cavalry readied themselves to join the fray from the left. More legionary archers launched their deadly volley from behind them and the skies darkened in front of the testudo as the arrows fell to their targets. Despite the barrage the Britons continued to spill out of the settlement whilst others fought in vain to repair the hill fort walls that were now succumbing to the torrent of iron hitting and shattering their timber.

Another cohort of cavalry galloped away from inside the woods, skirting around the base of the hill to support an attack elsewhere moving off to the left. The Second Legion was now throwing everything at the fort and there would be no escape for the brave natives holed up inside. As the cohort disappeared from view, astonishingly a group of Britons ran out of the front of the settlement hurling spears at the testudo now only feet from the former entrance. The first cavalry cohort galloped up in support followed by the light infantry running and struggling to keep up. Neither got to the Britons before they launched themselves onto the shields of the now dug in Roman square, who were hunched behind their overlapping shields taking cover from the onslaught. The natives were wild eyed and screaming as they tore at the shield wall trying to find its soft underbelly to stab. Sword points were thrust out at them, when they managed to force an opening wounding the attacker’s hands, arms and legs. Screams of agony filled the air as furious Britons stood their ground seemingly impervious to their wounds.

In the blink of an eye the cavalry closed on the natives and unleashed their short spears throwing them at a closer range than they were used to because of the gradient of the hill. As they started to take their toll, the horses were amongst the enemy, their rider’s long swords slashing and gouging at flesh and felling the enemy like wheat. A few of the defenders tried to turn and run as the men inside the testudo leapt out from their positions and joined the battle, engaging them with their short swords. The natives were trapped between them and a wall of horses as they began to meet their end.

A small group of about ten men managed to break free of the melee including Cavaltergex. They fought as they ran but didn’t get far as spears and arrows cut their numbers down quickly. Cavaltergex wasn’t the last to die but he fought like a lion until he was cut down by a series of blows to his head and torso from three legionaries. As the chopping and slashing began to slow and the screams began to fade, the light infantry ran past the bloody carnage straight into the ravaged fort to complete the obliteration of the enemy.

“Brenna turned to Varro once more, “Will they spare the women and children?”

He turned and walked away from her replying, “Anything that lived in there before the battle won’t be alive by nightfall.”

Angrily she followed him, “Is that any way to win peace, to kill women and children? What does your General hope to achieve by this?”

“It’s the way of things, it’s how it is. If they had surrendered when they had the chance, they would have been allowed to live but they attacked our soldiers. We have to teach these tribes that they cannot fight or defy us and get away with it, they have to be destroyed.”

She grabbed his arm and he stopped and stared at her with a cold angry expression but he saw the pain in her eyes. “I’m sorry Brenna that’s the way of things.” She let go and allowed him walk away.

As darkness started to fall, the former hill fort had already started to be transformed by the men of the Second. Bodies of the dead had been removed, the roundhouses burned to the ground and now a small military fort was already beginning to take shape. The three wounded men that had been taken into the settlement were found mutilated and stabbed to death. By the next night the defences would be up and the base would be better fortified than what had stood there before. The attack on the hill fort had come at a cost however, twenty three had died and twice that many were injured, at least five more weren’t expected to make it through the night.

Later Varro and his small group were on their own sat round a fire eating mutton, with victory came the spoils of war and the legion would eat well tonight. Brenna had said very little since learning that that her countrymen, women and children would be cut down for daring to defy the invaders.

“Come, walk with me.” She said standing and holding out her hand. Varro stood wiping his mouth with his forearm as the others watched. They walked further into the trees away from the sprawling fires of the army camped behind them.

“Where are we going?” He asked as she squeezed his hand, “I want to give you something.” She said smiling.

He frowned, “I don’t understand.”

“You’ll see soon enough” They walked until the camp fires were barley visible through the trees, a strong smell of fir in the air. She walked to a large oak tree and turned to face him, pulling him closer reaching between his legs as she kissed him.

“Oh I see.” He said smiling and returning her kiss.

Sometime later they lay wrapped around each other still sweating from their exertions, their clothing was discarded all around them.

“How many days will it take the army to get to the west coast do you think?” She asked. He thought for a moment, “If today is anything to go by, I don’t know. I don’t think the general expected this much resistance. If we have to fight our way to the coast it could take months, maybe years. We’ll know better after we ride out again and find out what lies ahead of us.” His hand brushed up and down her naked back as he spoke, he felt himself getting aroused again.

“Let’s not waste our time together.” He pulled her up onto him grinning as they kissed again, unaware of hidden eyes watching them from some thick bushes some distance away. Eventually the watching men quietly moved off having learned how the invaders attacked the fort.

Sometime later Varro lay on his back wearing just his loin cloth, Brenna massaging his temples. “It won’t always be this way, will it?” She asked.

He looked up at her, “It will for the foreseeable future, blood, death and battle, that’s what the immediate future holds anyway.”

“It won’t be forever and it doesn’t have to be that way.”

He looked at her curiously and grinned, “I wish you were right but the General has his orders and after losing so many men today he’ll be more cautious next time and will launch more carefully co-ordinated attacks.”

She looked at the night sky where stars sparkled like jewels in the black night. Her feelings for this man were growing stronger, she felt that he wasn’t just a barbaric killer as some of his comrades were, there was more to him. If only they had met under different circumstances she thought as sleep began to take her.