With local tribe’s undecided as to whether they would fight the men of the eagles as they crossed their territories, he knew they themselves couldn’t risk stopping for any length of time. He had considered sending warriors back to flank the marching columns of Vespasian and attack those who found themselves at the rear. He knew full well that the legions marched with their supplies and baggage at the end of their columns and they would literally stretch for miles, where they were not well guarded and were vulnerable. The men who rode the carts in the supply line would give little resistance as they were paid men, mercenaries. Even if they did fight, they wouldn’t be competent and would be quickly killed. He also knew that if he could hit their supply lines hard enough it would cripple their advance and no doubt stop it and they would eventually be forced to retreat. If he could make that happen, his warriors wouldn’t stop attacking until they pushed them into the sea.
The subject was a matter that consumed his thoughts throughout the days, nights and weeks and of those ahead but he had finally decided that he wouldn’t divide his force. After many discussions with his chieftains it was concluded that for any flanking force to be effective it would have to be many thousands strong and they couldn’t afford to be without that many people. It was also argued that if their flanking force was discovered by the Romans scouts, Vespasian would simply change direction and wipe them out.
Word was bound to reach the enemy of any counter attacking force and if that happened there was a possibility they would themselves be attacked and destroyed. It was a hard decision but one that had to be made, he believed their strength lay in their numbers and was content for them to stay as one until they could join with the Silures, who he knew, would fight on their side. The only thing that would stop that would be if the chasing enemy made camp for the winter and before they entered the territory of the Silures, in which event he would reconsider his options.
However, as the weather got gradually colder and the leaves started to fall and turn brown, the ground hardened and by that time the army of Caratacus was well inside the boundary lines of the Silures lands and safe, for the time being. As it turned out it was said that Vespasian’s own army had not walked freely through southern Britannia but had been fought all the way and had captured many settlements. He had also taken many casualties but he had eventually won every battle and there had been many at both settlements and hill forts. Some estimated that forty settlements had fallen to his swords, it seemed that they were unstoppable but were experiencing fierce resistance.
Vespasian’s advance had finally got as far as the River Exe where he turned the capital of the Dumnonii into a major fortification which he named Isca Dumnoniorium. On the east side of the river the march was halted and preparations made for the winter break. With casualties to be tended and replacements needed for those who were permanently removed from their numbers, the winter couldn’t come soon enough. The Second Augusta, were as far west as any Roman army had ever been and so had to consolidate and re-enforce and make preparations for the next campaigning season.
Chapter Seventeen
The days had turned cold, very cold and frost covered the ground as Caratacus looked out over the land and down across the valley to the River Exe. He and those around him were wrapped in thick heavy skins with hoods over their heads against the inclement weather.
Vespasian had been busy and so had his men, where once stood hundreds of roundhouses, an enormous wooden fortress now broke the landscape in the middle of those that still existed. Large boats were moored in the ice of the water close by, frozen in place until the thaw of spring. His scouts had informed him that they were still bringing in supplies from the sea route to the south, the last part of the journey on the back of wagons.
The enemy were camped for the winter but the structure looked like something more than that, it had a distinct look of permanence to it and was the largest single structure Caratacus had ever seen. Building and construction was still taking place beyond its walls where stone buildings were beginning to take shape, he knew that wouldn’t be happening if they intended to abandon it when the spring came.
He could see the helmeted figures of sentries their bodies covered in fur on the walls where they obviously thought they were safe, they looked out surveying the scene below. Traditionally they didn’t commit to combat during the winter months it was a weakness that Caratacus hoped to use to his advantage. Encased behind the high walls they may have been relatively safe but they were also a huge stationary target. With his cousin from the Silures at his side, his numbers had swollen in recent months to over fifteen thousand. Ardwen had not hesitated when he had heard of the threat coming from the east. He had sworn to avenge his brothers and Togodumnus.
The Silures were not merely happy to be involved in the campaign, they were eager as they lived for war when the opportunity arose and more importantly, were good at it. A few weeks before a small group of Silures warriors had literally stumbled over an advance force of the enemy who had crossed onto their land. They too were few in number and were found recording measurements and information for maps and had become an easy target for their warriors who had wiped them out to a man. There was no doubt that Vespasian would guess his soldiers fate but he would never know for sure, vanishing in the hills of Silures territory wouldn’t do his legions moral any good and that could only be of benefit to the Britons.
As they looked upon the recently constructed fortress, smoke rose from various chimneys although hardly any movement could be seen from within. A few sentries were posted along its walls and in its towers that were positioned at every corner and above the entrances at the front and rear. Row upon row of tents, were lined up inside the fort as well as some ancillary wooden buildings. Towards the rear near the centre were the foundations of the stone buildings which had quickly taken shape. Ardwin and Caratacus decided to take a closer look, they had told the rest of the army to stay hidden and to move behind the rolling hills to the north where they wouldn’t be seen.
They believed that they could go unnoticed amongst the Britons of the area and would try to gather information about the movements, if any of the enemy within the fort. Although they were camped for the winter, patrols would still be sent out to reconnoitre the countryside and they would make for easy targets. Small numbers they maybe but the thought of men not returning from patrols would do enormous damage to the men camped inside.
Warm breath billowed from their horse’s mouths as they began their descent to lower ground careful not to slip as steam rose from their shining bodies. Hooves hit the crisp frosty grass as powdered frost puffed up into the air as they made their way closer to the settlement at the side of the fort.
“If we don’t stop them, everywhere will soon look like this.” Ardwin said. Caratacus looked over but couldn’t see his face properly as it was hidden inside his hood. From the outskirts the place looked like most others in Britannia except for the tall fort now dominating the roundhouses. It was an alien site to them and one that brought shivers to both warriors’ spines, it was an altogether different shiver than that of the cold.
“If we can take one of these fortresses, just one,” Caratacus said, “others will see that they are not invincible and can be beaten.”
“That’s all it would take,” Ardwen replied, “one decisive victory and maybe even the cowards who don’t fight will realise that we can win this war and remove the blight from the land.”