Men and women fell all around him struck down as iron cut through their bodies as other shields closed in. He saw one female warrior’s blue painted flesh turned red with blood as a spear sliced through her throat. She didn’t stop or hesitate but fought on impaled on the point of the weapon sticking through her flesh, hacking at the man responsible. He let go of his sword and pulled his dagger free of its scabbard and ran at her attacker. He wrenched another shield down and reached forward trying to stab at the man holding it who jerked his head back, his knife too short.
He suddenly felt an instant white hot pain from somewhere under his ribcage, in the centre of his stomach, it was crippling and instantly disabled any further movement. He dropped his weapon so paralysing was the pain. He looked down and saw a wooden shaft tipped with iron protruding from his stomach. Before another thought came to him, it was ripped free. Blood came with it and the pain was now such that he began to black out, the noise around him faded. Falling backwards he was aware of being struck by another blow somewhere to the side of his chest and then the world went black.
Caratacus was carried back to the rallying point of his chariots, he felt empty, cold and devastated. He staggered from the wooden chariot, sweating and shaking, white with shock. Men and women around him saw his expression but most were running and didn’t register fully what had occurred. Warriors were still advancing towards the enemy, he watched as they ran but knew their bravery was in vain.
“Have them pull back.” He said to the men who had saved him. “Get into the marshland, we can’t beat them like this, they are too heavily armoured and protected.”
“But lord your brother, the King what of him?” He asked.
“He was surrounded the last time I saw him.” He pointed towards the battle, “Get them pulled back.” He walked to his horse mounted it and then rode towards the marshes. Those who could, retreated, men and women on foot and chariots moved back to the rallying point and beyond into the marshes. The battle had gone on until midday and both sides had won some encounters but the first major blow had been struck by the enemy. They’re unceasing shield wall supported by rapidly moving cavalry had forced the defenders back and into certain defeat. For hours the battle had raged on as they were out flanked, their warriors with their horsemen and so their chariots tried to outflank them but they simply did not have enough to stop the seemingly endless tide of men and armour.
Vespasian had called a halt to their advance when the Britons were seen to be finally retreating in larger numbers. Disciplined the soldiers had held their position as they were ordered. They even allowed their opponents to drag away the injured as they consolidated the position having won the strategic advantage over the river. Supplies were brought forward and artillery was set up in a defensive perimeter. The Britons had lost hundreds, maybe thousands their dead bodies littered the ground but Varro saw that his own force had lost men as well although not nearly as many as the enemy.
Word in the fast growing camp was that they were to pursue and destroy all those who had stood before them but it had to be done in a manner that reduced the cost in lives and injuries to their own. Things were moving rapidly, it could only be a matter of time before the Britons were defeated or forced to surrender.
“Lord, lord!” Caratacus was sat drinking water from a wooden cup, he turned to the shouting behind him somewhere in the trees. He had eventually retreated into the marshland with a large force intending to ambush the advancing army but they had paused for breath and much needed rest. Scouts informed him that the Legion of Vespasian were now reinforcing their position. He knew that the scene of the battle was lost to him and his people and for the time being there was nothing he could do. Their enemy although brutal, had allowed them to retrieve their injured and many were now being tended in areas nearby. Wails and cries from relatives of those struck down sounded from all around him as well as those of the injured. He had sent skirmishers and archers back through the trees to watch for when the Romans advanced again knowing they wouldn’t have to wait long. They were ordered to engage them and then withdraw, engage and withdraw as fast as possible.
“What is it?” He asked of the man panting before him.
“The King he lives.” The man pointed as Caratacus jumped to his feet dropping the cup. He saw his brother’s body seemingly lifeless being carried on a war chariot towards him the horses were reigned in and brought to a halt. He heard a feint sigh from Togodumnus as the two horses pulling the chariot breathed heavily from their exertion. Caratacus ran over to him, he was appalled by what he saw. His brother had sustained multiple injuries to his upper chest and stomach. Almost black blood bubbled up out of two larger blood black holes in his chest. Most of the other injuries were wedge shaped and could have only come from short swords.
“Togodumnus.” He said his voice almost breaking with emotion. His brother didn’t respond, he was laid out on his back unmoving his eyes barely open, spittle and blood coming from his mouth. Caratacus tried to stop the blood flow from his body with his hands but it was useless.
“Bring cloth.” He shouted not taking his eyes from his brother. “I thought you were dead.” He said almost to himself as he surveyed the injuries again. “I knew in my heart you wouldn’t fall, that they couldn’t kill you.” Even as he spoke, he knew his words were lies.
“We managed to get him free of the attack,” said one of the men from the chariot, “if they had known he was the King they would have taken him. At first I thought he was dead there was so much blood but as I crouched I saw his eyes flicker and pulled him free of the bodies around where he lay.” The chariot driver told him now staring down at his King.
“You did well my friend but I fear it may be too late to help him. He has received many injuries and whilst my brother will fight to the last, I fear the worst and think he maybe mortally wounded.” He looked at his brother and watched as short shallow breaths escaped his racked and ruined body. He leant over him and whispered in his ear.
“Can you hear me brother?” He turned and looked at his face looking for any signs of consciousness there were none, no signs of life except for the breaths escaping his open mouth. He saw that even the top row of his teeth had been shattered and at least four were missing presumably knocked out as he had fought for his life. He was pained to see his brother this way, they had grown up together, laughed, cried and fought with each other.
“Brother, hear me.” Tears welled up in his eyes, he didn’t try to stop them. He looked up and realised that there were others gathered around him, their faces reflected his own, shock, sadness, fear and hate.
“Prepare for the enemy.” He ordered looking at them. “They will pay dearly for this.” The men and women around him picked up and gathered their weapons some of which had been dropped at the surprise of seeing their King so badly injured. None spoke, they didn’t have to and with determined features they ran into the marshes.
Togodumnus’ body shook and trembled as more blood pumped from his pierced and penetrated skin. The two wounds that had previously spewed dark black blood now emitted pinkish bubbling frothing fluid and Caratacus knew that his brother’s lungs were damaged, he had seen this before. His breaths shortened, rasping with every effort, he didn’t have long. Caratacus leaned over him again he knew he didn’t have much time. He heard shouts from the men sent to watch for movement from the enemy.
“I swear by the gods I will avenge you brother, I will live to fight these invaders and become a thorn in their sides. I will give my all to take from them as they taken from us. I will have no other reason for being and if I am forced to give my life I will give it gladly, for my people, my land and our family. They will live to regret their greed and betrayal by invading our lands. This I swear on our fathers name, I will make it my life’s work to avenge you.” Tears dropped freely onto his brother’s dirty blood stained face, the droplets smearing blood and dirt.