Vespasian smiled, “Don’t worry sir I’ll look after the men, you can count on it. You can also count on them.” Without another word he turned and almost ran to the ladder that would take him to ground level. Adminius joined Plautius on the wall.
“It looks as if your brothers have signalled their response without your intervention young Adminius and now they will pay for their stupidity.” Plautius said staring at the warriors under the trees.
Adminius looked out at the two vast armies now facing each other as the dust settled from the cavalry. From this position it was impossible to tell if his brothers were there but he knew they would be somewhere in the midst of the Catuvellauni. He said, “I pity their naivety sir and their stupidity, they could have maintained their lands and power but they chose a long time ago for this day to happen.”
“Naive and stupid they maybe Adminius but brave as well, they are fighting for what they believe in, their land, their families and their pride. Could you say such a thing?” The General gave him a look of disgust that shocked the former prince.
“I made my decision also a long time ago General and that choice was for the benefit of my people to ally them with Rome not to deny that and fight, in order to get wiped out. My brothers will see the error of their ways by paying with their lives and so will thousands of my people, my subjects.” He turned and began to walk away.
“Pride comes in many guises Adminius and so does bravery.” The Briton stopped and turned but Plautius continued. “If I were out there as I used to be and I was given a choice of who I was to stand beside, your brothers or you hiding behind these walls, my choice would be simple. You see Adminius some of us were born soldiers, it’s not something we choose it’s actually in our blood. It doesn’t matter what the odds are, it doesn’t matter if we wear fine uniforms or nearly nothing at all as your brothers do. We are all brothers, brothers of battle undivided, it is enough to stand and fight, it is a bond that you will never know. Now get out of my sight.”
Adminius blushed hurt and embarrassed by the commander’s words but he knew he was right but it didn’t matter, he headed towards the ladder. His words had convinced even the Emperor of his loyalty and Claudius himself had thanked him but this underling presumed that he could talk to him as he would a peasant, a coward. Adminius swore to himself that he would make Plautius pay for his contempt.
Plautius returned his gaze to the front and saw that the Britons had begun to slowly advance. He felt his stomach knot not at the coming battle but at the contempt he felt for Adminius. Clearing his head he asked one of the centurions from his command group how many Britons they faced.
“It’s hard to calculate sir because of their extended line and many of them are still hidden under the trees. They’re front is far longer than our own and I can’t see any of their chariots. I would estimate that we can see at least ten thousand now.”
Plautius didn’t answer but could see the Britons line did extend well beyond the width of his own formations and it was an unbroken line unlike the disciplined ranks of his squares. Trumpets sounded from below ordering his men forward and virtually as one the vast columns moved toward the Britons, the cavalry maintaining their position waiting for orders and to see what the enemy did.
Loud jeers rose above the noise of the marching boots from the blue and white line of the slowly advancing Britons as more emerged from the tree’s thickening their line and swelling their number. The sight of them made a shiver quiver down the spine of Plautius. Most of them he could see carried spears or swords, some swung axes above their freshly limed stark white hair that stuck out from their blue painted heads and torso’s. Had Plautius been a Briton he thought, he had no doubt that today he would have been among their number, not hiding below as Adminius was now.
Varro watched from the wall of the fort further along from the Generals position. Rumours were spreading through the troops that the Britons had received reinforcements during the night, chariots included. Without their own army dominating the ground to the south it was impossible to tell if these rumours were true or just wild stories. Nevertheless as he watched he now saw chariots appear on the flanks of the enemy. Although a lot of the chariots had been put out of action the day before and their horses hamstrung or butchered some had probably lived but they couldn’t have accounted for the mass that emerged to face them now, these must be re-enforcements.
“Over one hundred chariots on each flank and counting sir.” He heard an observer shout to the General. Varro swallowed hard, the rumours were true then, they had swelled their numbers considerably.
Caratacus peeled off from the chariots and drove slowly along the front line of his warriors demonstrating that he was willing to face this threat with his people. In his right hand he held his sword and encouraged the warriors he had assembled by waving it in the air and pointing at the Roman lines facing them. He had seen that as he had predicted, they had concentrated their heavy infantry in the middle with cavalry on the flanks. The wall of helmets and shields from the regular infantry shone in the morning sunlight as they silently advanced. He had seen them first-hand the day before with a red stripe running through the middle from top to bottom and depicting two animals either side of the shield boss at the centre. A flying horse, Pegasus and a leaping Stag painted in bright white against a background of gold. Soon he would have them dripping in blood.
As he had considered his options for battle earlier that day whilst eating warm mutton, envoys from the Dobunni tribe had arrived with encouraging news. Their King had heard of the invasion and had marched his own army to fight and swell the ranks of his own bringing with them chariots. He now had now swollen his command with over thirty thousand more men and women with the help of his westerly neighbours. Although they were not as skilled in battle as the Catuvellauni, the Dobunni were a welcome addition to the force that now faced the Roman threat.
Caratacus surveyed the scene before him again and knew that if he advanced too far they would be within range of the mighty machines that hurled huge arrows and bolts across the battlefield. He could see that the enemy had placed a number of them on the walls. He would have to avoid getting too close and was intent on drawing the soldiers out and beyond their range. He could hear trumpets sounding from across the bare land where they had laid waste to everything in order to create a killing field clear of obstructions. He would use that to his own advantage now as it gave the chariots room to manoeuvre and harass the wall of shields and the men behind them.
He ordered his chariot driver to move forward of his battle line fifty paces to where he could be seen clearly, the chariot rumbled forward and stopped as instructed. He looked at the Roman shields once more and marvelled at their form but knew that he must do his best to destroy them. The ground was virtually clear of dust now as was the sky and the sun shone warming his exposed upper body, only small wispy clouds drifted across the sky above. On another day it would have been pleasant but not today. Today was a day that he knew could well determine the life, death or enslavement of him and his entire people.
The abuse the warriors shouted at their foe changed when they saw him and began to chant his name as he stood facing them. He calculated that the first of the advancing disciplined rows were now well beyond the effective range of their own machines and bolt throwers, the chances of success had just grown but only marginally. He waited for them to take another fifty paces and heard then saw that the soldiers were now banging their swords against the sides of their shields. He gave the signal for the chariots on the right to advance and they rumbled forward slowly at first building momentum.