We had twenty of the armoured ‘tanks’, each driven by two strong work-horses and shielding both the two ‘crew’ and roughly twenty to forty legionaries, depending on terrain and conditions.
The enemy were using this side of the valley only, as it was steeper and the lower portion offered less cover in the form of trees and boulders.
They were deployed in three lines, or terraces, with stakes and the wicker shields to give them protection and cover. The Roman archers were out of range initially, and the angle of the slope ensured that those who could throw their javelins or pila would never get either the distance or power.
To give the Romans due credit, once they realised they were under attack, they reacted well, but predictably. Due to the bulk of the forces being still at the town, those below were simply massacred; or would have been had we not intervened.
The horses were great and simply walked down the slope with their burdens in the front. We’d introduced simple braking systems to the heavy wheels that was sufficient to stop the ‘tanks’ from running away and out of control.
We reached the first line before they knew we were there, as they were so concentrating their attention on picking targets down below.
Over 400 well armoured legionaries arrived and set to the first line of archers. It was a one-sided fight. The archers had their bows and a small half-assed sword that I do not suspect any thought that they’d ever have to use. They were up against trained and experienced Romans with short swords and pila, with which they were able to use effectively.
Many of Gaius’ men were trained archers, so picked the bows that the fallen archers had dropped and started using them against the men below.
This caused great confusion and obvious consternation to the archers who had no expected attack from the rear. The tanks were now being readied for the next line, as more legionaries swarmed down the sloped to the first line, using the enemy’s cover as protection from the archers who were now having to fire uphill at their old line.
To the right, I saw a group of men, possibly those in command. They were trying to redirect their forces to face this unexpected attack. I gathered my girls, and we rode back over the crest and headed to meet them.
It had been a long time since we had rode together in a combat situation. For this and previous campaigns, we had been employed as scattered agents, purely gathering intelligence, so this was refreshing.
There were four hundred of us, all lightly armoured, but equipped with swords, pila and bows. When we reached a spot close to where I thought the enemy were, only on the other side of the hill. I dismounted and with Iona and two others, we went forward on foot the see where they were.
Below us, some one hundred paces away was a group of fifty men. They had horses tethered and guarded down the slope by another hundred paces, so were ready to escape if threatened.
They were all regarding the new developments with some concern, if their raised voices and gesticulations were anything to go by. None were looking our way.
I formulated a simple plan.
We returned to the group. I split them in half, instructed Iona to take the main group on a frontal attack, over the top and directly at the group, I would take the other group round the back and wait for those who would try to escape down the hill on the rough track that was evidently their escape route.
Iona’s group would give us twenty minutes to get in position and then attack.
It took us slightly longer than I anticipated, so heard the attack just as we arrived at the position I wanted.
Clearly the fifty were not inclined to hang about and face the horde of cavalry that bore down on them, for they all ran to their horses with a view to escape. There were some who were too slow, as I heard their screams. I lined the girls on their mounts across the path and up each side in the trees. We were four rows of forty, all with swords drawn and pila at the ready.
Those who had thought themselves clear rode in disarray towards us, mostly looking over their shoulders.
One, a tall man, who was possibly Armes, saw us and pulled up sharply. The others kept going, oblivious to our presence for the moment.
I saw Armes take off to the left, taking two or three others with him. I took four with me and left the rest to deal with the oncoming riders.
The other four rode fast, on the wings of fear. It must have been quite a frightening experience to be ready to deal a death blow to the Romans, only to have the Romans deal a death blow to your plans.
I did not want this man – Armes, to escape, and we were lighter with better mounts. The track wound along the side of the valley. It was rough, with rocks and places where the winter melts had ripped through as gushing waterfalls.
We were gaining rapidly, as their horses were tiring.
I saw the men turn and regard us regularly. I think on seeing just five of us, they decided that perhaps they could take us. They could not tell our genders, so probably felt they just needed an edge to escape.
Armes was trying to free something from beneath his cloak, and so I got a bad feeling. Here was a man who was used to bending the rules, so when the matt black, gun-metal object appeared, my feeling was confirmed.
He made no attempt to fire it, as he probably knew that he had little chance of hitting anyone with any degree of accuracy from on a moving horse in these conditions. Hell, most people had difficulty hitting a man-sized target at twenty-five metres under range conditions with a handgun. Besides, we were not supposed to know what he had, so he had the advantage of allowing us to get close and thereby use it at close range at his leisure.
He wasn’t to know that I recognised the fact he had a handgun and was trained to respond accordingly.
The track had reached a smaller valley, so it was flatter here.
“Go left and right!” I shouted to the others, in the hope we could catch them in a pincer. “Do not let that man get close to you. He has another weapon, far worse than the bow! Keep moving and use your bows if you get a chance. Don’t present a static target.”
The girls grinned and nodded, breaking off in pairs as instructed.
The next time the men turned, they saw just me following.
This might have concerned some, but they started to smile and shout to each other. Armes shouted something and his companions kept going as he slowed and moved towards a clump of trees. I saw his tactic was to get me to follow him while allowing the others to escape. He would lure me in close, shoot me and then catch up with them and deal with any of the girls who were getting too close.
He swung down from his horse and ran among the larger trees, ducking out of sight. I saw him discard the cloak, so knew he was less encumbered.
I rode past the spot, leaped from my horse and rolled into the bushes to my front.
I weighed up the situation. He had a firearm, and probably one made here. If that was the case, then it was probably a single shot, basic design that relied on old-style powder and shot ammunition. To manufacture anything more advanced would be very difficult under first century conditions. I couldn’t guarantee it, but in the land of the blind, the one-eyed man is king, so he believed he had one certain shot that was all he needed.
I needed him to fire on me and believe he had hit me; otherwise he would run and make life complicated. He would want to check the body, so then I’d have him where I wanted him. If he had more than one shot….
I had to risk it.
A sound of a large branch breaking to my front, followed by a cry of pain or distress made me smile. He was a terrible actor. I now knew where he was, which was deliberate on his part, as he needed me close so he could shoot me.
It also occurred to me that he was unaware of my gender, as we had all been wearing helmets and armour, albeit the lighter type we had designed.
He groaned, just to add a bit more emphasis to his obvious distress.