At the rear of the Britons line they were now taking control of the fight as more warriors enveloped the isolated Romans. Unable to wound any more horses and totally surrounded they fought for their lives, none were shown any mercy. Even those who tried to surrender, throwing their swords down and raising their arms were hacked to death by the incensed defenders who were crazed after what they had done to their animals. Fingers, hands, arms and heads were severed as blood clouds sprayed forming and spurting from veins in the continued attack as the Romans numbers were whittled down.
As they were cut to ribbons, the other cohorts appeared out of the mist galloping from their own river crossing. The bridge had collapsed under the weight of the animals so they had swam across, still steaming as the cold water met their warm bodies but they were too late to save their comrades. Instantly they turned to charge toward to a group of horses but the Britons got to them first and formed a human barrier. Spears were hurled through the air at the cavalry as faster flying arrows joined them in the air finding their targets.
The newly arrived troops and their horses were quickly hemmed together from all sides. Those who found themselves outermost struggled to fight such was the crush of bodies in front and behind and stood little chance. The men at the rear were unable to help, crammed in like eels in a barrel and could only watch in panic as those in front of them met a brutal death as they themselves could only wait their turn. Men fell from horses quickly as the long swords took their toll, the attackers able to stand off and swing wildly at such rich targets. For a rare moment the men fighting for the empire found that they didn’t have the advantage. The Britons made short work of the heavily outnumbered and packed together cavalry. As the last of them was slaughtered the victorious Britons surveyed the damage done to their horses.
A pile of dead were left lying in a heap where they had died, bodies virtually piled up on top of each other. Severed arms and legs twisted at odd angles stuck out from the corpse pile, the stench of blood and shit was vile. Although the defence of the horses had been quick to respond to the attack, many now lay dead, others lay on the ground legs twitching, their cries of pain unworldly. Some tried in vain to get to their feet as the Britons approached them. Those who were deemed mortally wounded were dispatched with spears and swords. Others were still running around in pain large open wounds to their necks and flanks, still spilling blood.
As Varro and his own horse levelled out on the flat of the river side he heard sharp crisp snapping sounds and realised that they were under attack from bowmen. He looked to his left quickly after he heard a loud shriek and saw that a soldier had been hit in the throat. His hands grasped at the arrow embedded in his neck but his eyes began to glaze over almost immediately. Varro watched the legionary fall backwards over the rump of the horse, his body hit the water head first and was engulfed.
Instantly he was aware of the sounds around him, seemingly magnified as he tried to push Staro into a charge as water splashed around them. Another legionary was hit in the face by an arrow as it inverted his nose on impact. Varro heard yet another cry of pain from somewhere behind, it was bedlam. He leaned forward onto Staro’s mane trying to present a smaller target as arrows whined past him from both sides and overhead. His head banged against his mounts neck and he got a face full of wet hair as Staro moved faster through the water raising his head.
After what seemed like an age, horse and rider began to emerge from the water on the other side. A brief thought inside his head told Varro that their position meant nothing because if anything the danger had now trebled as he saw woad covered Britons streaming forward screaming war cries. As they got to within about fifty paces they hefted their spears launching them into the air as they were joined by more arrows already on their own deadly flight. Varro swallowed briefly and thought that it would be a miracle if he survived this onslaught.
Riding clear of the water with the enemy bearing down on him, he pushed Staro up the slight embankment screaming encouragement to his horse. Those around him did the same but every second their flight was broken by cries of pain as arrows or spears found targets. Some horses hit by the deadly missiles were jumping in panic to the side, hitting other animals and dislodging their riders who splashed into the cold water, where men gasped for breath. The Britons were taking a heavy toll of both men and horses now as the two sides got closer. He turned to the rear quickly to make sure he wasn’t alone and saw one dismounted soldier trying to wade through the water back to the other side, his horse already there but kicking wildly with a spear in its flank. Beyond the soldier he could see infantry walking into the water, their straight lines walking briskly, shields held high, they too were already starting to receive arrows.
From somewhere he was aware of trumpets sounding, giving orders to cohorts and centuries to pursue the attack as the chaos of battle grew. Staro began to gallop forward now clear of the water, he managed to gain a slight lead on the horses around him. Varro saw a clear gap to his left and steered towards it and then further to the left. He knew presenting himself and his horse’s side to the enemy was a huge risk but he also knew that if he didn’t do something quickly they would find themselves running straight onto swords or spears. From the corner of his eye he saw that more men and horses were getting hit by arrows. He saw one horse rearing upward with a number of arrows in its head and more landing as its undefended chest was bared. He kicked out at Staro mentally pleading for more speed.
‘Come on boy we don’t want to die here like this, not here, not today, come on faster.’ He shouted. In a split second the thought was already gone from his head as from somewhere Staro found more speed. Varro clung on as he accelerated forward. From the side he was aware that he had made the right decision as the two opposing sides drew closer.
He saw that the enemy were now running flat out, sprinting towards their attackers, hurling spears, others held axes or swords aloft as they screamed and shook them in the air. They looked terrifying, their eyes and teeth prominent through their woad covered skin. Varro ripped a javelin free and hurled it forward and to the right. He didn’t aim it at anyone in particular so dense was the crush of Britons massed and surging forward.
In seconds the two sides would clash and Varro worked like never before to push his horse further to the left. He didn’t intend to end his life stupidly running into a sword or spiked on a spear. Briefly he was aware that some of the warriors were women amongst the men attacking them, for a second he saw breasts covered in blue bouncing as the women ran. He dismissed the thought concentrating on pushing Staro further.
‘Faster boy come on.’ He urged.
In the next moment he was aware of the two sides coming together behind him, clashing weapons and intensified screaming. Roman legionnaires who still had javelins worked them to find soft flesh, those without, stabbed out and slashed with their long swords as the Britons wielded their axes, swords and spears. The impact of the clash of both sides was almost ear splitting and Varro grimaced at the pain he felt in his ears but for now all that mattered was that he had escaped death.
He turned Staro quickly and saw that more Britons were running forward joining the fray. Weapons were brought up and down as they tried to find targets the sound of metal clashing together sharply. He reached for his second javelin whilst nudging Staro into a canter with his legs. Twenty paces from the battling sides he picked out a bare breasted women, he launched his weapon. Just before it struck home she was impaled by a Roman sword just below the right collarbone. His javelins point disappeared into the side of her head just in front of her ear and she fell lost amongst the struggling bodies.