Legionary

Chapter 73

The two equites heeled their mounts into a gallop back over the lush grassy ridge, waving the all clear vigorously. Pavo’s heart pounded with anticipation.

‘We’re almost there!’ Sura cried, slapping his friend across the back. ‘One more ridge and we’re there!’ He yelled to Tribunus Vitus.

‘Forward!’ Vitus yelled in turn over his shoulder, waving the thick, shimmering column forward. He jabbed a hand at the aquilifer, who waved the purple flag on the end of the silver standard of the XII Fulminata. The equites read it at once and wheeled round to join the legionary column.

‘Well, we’ve not encountered any of their scouts yet. You said they were wrapped around the hill?’ Vitus quizzed.

‘Well, they were two days ago,’ Pavo frowned.

‘Excellent,’ Vitus rubbed his hands together. ‘A nice narrow line to smash into the back of!’

Pavo thought better of reminding the tribunus over the Hun number. A narrow line it was most definitely not. Then something flashed on the horizon — his eyes locked onto it, something dancing just above the ridge top. A topknot, then an eyepatch.

‘Horsa!’ He yelled. ‘And Amalric?’ The prince bobbed into view, dust billowing behind them.

‘They’re in a bloody hurry?’ Vitus mused. Then his eyes widened. ‘Form up to repel a cavalry charge!’

The XII Fulminata, leading the relief column, rippled into a wall of shields and plumbatae. Pavo fell back in line, realisation dawning on him as he watched; Horsa and Amalric bounded from the ridge top, thumping down onto the grass as a dark wave of arrows arced over them. ‘Sir, send the cavalry out to the flanks — I know what’s going to happen here.’

Vitus rubbed his chin momentarily. ‘Parthian shot? Hit and run.’

Pavo nodded vigorously.

‘Equites, out wide,’ Vitus cried, ‘ready to pinch anything that comes over that hill!’

The cavalry raced out as he ordered, just as a wall of dark riders exploded over the ridge, only twenty paces at most behind the fleeing Horsa and Amalric.

Pavo gulped as the riders came and came — his mind flitted with flashbacks of their descent onto the ill-prepared XI Claudia just days before.

‘It’s just a detachment,’ Sura gasped, reading his thoughts. ‘Look, they’re tailing off!’

‘Then we’ve got to cut them off,’ Vitus barked, then turned to the legionary holding the silver eagle standard and the trio carrying bronze horns. ‘Aquilifer, buccinators — get my cavalry round the back of them — pen them in and destroy them. I don’t want a single one of them getting back to their main force — let’s keep surprise in our armoury.’

‘I’m trying, sir!’ The aquilifer roared as the Hun detachment wheeled around fully, breaking from the pursuit of Horsa and haring back in the direction they had come from.

‘Damn it! If they bring their full cavalry force onto us on open ground…this could be a disaster!’

Pavo felt his spirit crash. If the Huns slipped away they would be chasing shadows again. Then, on the horizon, something rippled, just ahead of the Hun detachment. ‘Sir — look!’

All across the grassy ridge, a harvest of spears rose up, held firm by blonde-haired warriors. The Hun riders reared up, throwing their flight into chaos, as the equites thundered into their rear.

‘What in the name of — who are they?’ Vitus spluttered, straining his eyes in the cloudy gloom at the spectre-like line of spearmen. Horsa and Amalric rode to the rear of the newcomers, exchanged some barked words and then wheeled around, whooping, punching the air in delight.

‘Goths, sir? I think they’re Goths?’ Pavo gasped.

Amalric leant from the saddle as Horsa galloped up to the Roman front line and Vitus. ‘My brothers are here, under Fritigern’s banner — here to avenge their kin!’ He pointed to the flapping orange flag they held.

‘One of our boats escaped, fishermen of my people, they crossed the sea to get word to our cousins! We thought them lost to the Huns!’ Amalric blurted, his eyes sparkled with tears.

As one, the Roman lines erupted in a roar of delight, while at the ridge, the Hun thousand were crushed in the Roman-Goth vice, speartips and plumbatae felling them swiftly.

‘Who’d have thought it, lads?’ Vitus mused, gazing at Horsa as he wheeled back to enter the fray. ‘Saved by Goths!’ His laughter filled the plain.

In the murmur of excitement, nobody noticed the white cloaked and hooded figure of Bishop Evagrius pushing through the crowd, past the flank of the army and up to the ridge.