He imagined that Vespasian was slowly moving westward in their direction and a fast ride overnight would see them back with the column. The countryside they found themselves in was not too dissimilar from that of Gaul. Rich green rolling hills with trees seemed to cover the land almost everywhere. Shallow slow running rivers and streams cut the land in places and with little difficulty they could be crossed quite easily on horseback.
They slowed to walking pace as they approached a small group of roundhouses. They were not as well made as the others they had encountered at Brenna’s settlement and there was no fencing around them. A couple of goats were tied up and a few dogs were walking around loose, it wasn’t as organised or anywhere near as large as Brenna’s village.
As the dogs noticed them and began to bark, a female stooped inside her roundhouse and then appeared at the door. The look on her face was of total surprise as she surveyed the five strange men on horseback. She shouted something unintelligible with a Cantiaci dialect and kept repeating it, more women appeared at their doors peering around the edges of the door frames.
“How about this lot Centurion, would you put your sword into them, as you did last night?” Asked Veranius chuckling to himself.
Varro looked at the women, “I’m no eunuch as you know my friend but I do have some standards and I think that these crones are a few levels below my last encounter.” He could see rotten brown teeth in their mouths and dry cracked skin on their faces and necks.
“I reckon you’d know about it the next day if you quenched your desires on them lot eh?” Veranius made a sound of disgust as one of the women snorted up a mouth full of phlegm and spat it towards them.
“Filthy fuckin cunt.” He said pulling his spatha upward out of his scabbard, the sheaving metallic sound enough to make the women scurry back inside their houses.
“Ha-ha, I think they like you Veranius,” Varro said, “maybe when we come back through this way you could spend the night with that beauty eh? But for now stay alert, I don’t want to lose anyone or for someone to get injured by those horrible looking witches.” He moved on, “You wouldn’t think they were part of the same tribal group as Brenna’s would you? They look like rabble in comparison.”
Varro clicked at Staro, “Come on let’s get away from here.” He ordered and they galloped away from the women who had been joined by others outside and were shouting abuse at the strange looking riders. They got onto a path that looked familiar and disappeared from view of the village and entered a shaded wooded area. Suspicious of possible attack they hurried through the tree covered ground and soon came out into the bright sunshine.
Ahead of them about three hundred paces in front, they saw the uniquely recognisable helmets of Roman cavalry riding in their direction. Quintus and his men smiled as they approached waving to the other part of their small detachment of reconnaissance riders.
“Greeting Centurion Varro,” he said, “how has it been out here in the barbarian wasteland where they eat their children and feed the remains to the dogs?”
“Hardly my friend.” Varro answered. “Although we did come across some rather unfriendly crones a few miles back, blistered sputum spewing whores by the look of them and as pox riddled as any slut of Rome by the looks of things. Although Gaius here said he’d give them a run for their money.”
“With all due respect sir, fuck you Centurion.” Gaius protested and laughed.
“Come lets go and water the horses at that ford over there and we can catch up.” Quintus suggested. They all followed him on his brown mare as Staro nudged her as he drew level and shook his head.
“Ah, I see Staro still has a liking for Sevella eh boy?” Quintus said patting the other soldier’s horse’s mane.
“When this is all over, we’ll give you a chance to sire your own sons eh old boy?” Varro said as they got to the water where the horses dipped their heads and drank thirstily as their riders dismounted.
“The column was attacked Varro. Some bastard barbarian war leader called Caratacus apparently. He and his brother Togodumnus have vowed to push us back into the sea or so the story goes.”
“How bad was the attack, how serious?” Marcus asked.
“Bad enough, they ambushed the rear of the legion in a valley. It was well planned and orchestrated. They killed nearly four hundred men, three hundred and seventy eight to be precise. Vespasian has gone through the fucking roof and sent out riders searching for those responsible.”
“Nearly four hundred!” Varro said. “Gods hell, that’s a lot of the legions strength, how the fucking hell did that happen? They’re bastard primitive scum with sling shot against spear, chariot against ballista!
“I’m afraid it’s true my friend, we saw the records from the Tribunes clerk, it’s not good.” Quintus said.
“Just how many warriors do the blue nose bastards have? Does anyone have any idea? It must be quite a lot and more than we were told existed before we crossed the water if they’ve killed that many trained soldiers.” Marcus said.
“A well planned and co-ordinated ambush could result in odds of one loss to eight dead enemy warriors by military estimates, they reckon.” Varro put in. “We were told we can expect to meet as many as one hundred and seventy thousand Britons. If that many had descended on the column in a well-planned attack, there wouldn’t be a man left and General Vespasian’s skull would be displayed on a spear by Caratacus’ roundhouse.
An attack of this nature could have been carried out by as few as five hundred of them or as many as two thousand. We know that most of the war chiefs have gone north so the whole hundred odd thousand aren’t engaging us at the moment.”
“Vespasian needs to draw them out into the open all of them and engage them, all at once. We could destroy the Britons resistance in one foul sweep.” Quintus said as he knelt down and started to light a fire. “We’ll have some food with you, before you return to the General, we brought fresh pork with us.” He said gesturing for Sextus to get some out of his bag.
As the soldiers sat together around the fire and ate, they could have been anywhere, Gaul or even Italia. At that moment they could relax somewhat due to the terrain they now found themselves in. They could see to the horizon in most directions, the only blot to disturb the view was that of the wooded area but it was too far away to hide any approaching attacking force that could endanger them. So they sat in peace and took their time relishing the crispy pork Quintus had brought with him.
The first evidence that the light was about to fade was signalled by a cool breeze and a sense of lateness brought on by an owl calling out from somewhere beyond in the forest to their south as the Legion came to a halt. They were in a huge clearing, forests to their north and south but some distance away. It looked like a huge swathe had been cleared with the route west open for passing travellers.
Vespasian knew that if they didn’t start their preparations to fortify their position soon, they would run out of natural light so he had decided to bring them to a halt and had given the order for the men to start the last task of the day, an all-round defensive position.
After the attack during the morning he had ordered two cohorts of cavalry to patrol along their lines on opposite sides of the column and travelling in opposite directions at all times. One century of heavy infantry now walked with and guarded the rear flank at all times to try and ensure a repeat of the mornings attack didn’t occur again.
As the men released their heavy back packs and put their equipment down, the wagons containing the sharpened timber spikes were brought to them at intervals of fifty paces and unloaded. The sound of digging commenced as men bit into the previously un-dug surface with their shovels and the preparations began to complete their temporary home once more.