Two great columns of men resembling a pair of great armoured serpents slithered out of camp towards them, the front two ranks gripping their lethal short swords tight to their bodies while those behind held their javelins at the ready. The ballista stopped shooting as the head of each column reached the enemy’s battered front rank. And then the slaughter began.
As the front ranks of the enemy stood transfixed by the snarling and screaming legionaries running at them, the sky was suddenly filled with other missiles as the men behind the front two ranks hurled their javelins forward. Ever since I had first encountered them in Italy I had been fascinated by the Roman javelin, a spear that bent upon impact, making it impossible for an enemy to throw it back. And now dozens of javelins embedded themselves in enemy flesh, felling dozens. And then the legionaries went to work with their swords, stabbing upwards into thighs and bellies and over the rims of their shields into faces.
I was told later that the two columns went through the enemy like a gladius through a linen shirt. On the legionaries went and the enemy was glad to get out of their way, fleeing left and right before them. So the Durans and Exiles prised apart the enemy, herding them into two disorganised and dispirited blocks, one to the north and the other to the south. In the middle the two columns of legionaries pushed their way forward until they had broken clear through the enemy. And then they stopped. Trumpets blasted and the Durans and Exiles halted as one. Whereas the enemy foot was a mass of frightened and confused men, the Durans and Exiles retained their discipline and cohesion. Train hard, fight easy.
The Duran Legion formed the northern column and the Exiles the southern one. The trumpeters of both formations now sounded again and as one the Durans faced right to present a wall of shields to the enemy that had been barged aside and herded in a northwards direction like a flock of sheep. At the same time the Exiles faced left to prepare to advance against the second mass of enemy soldiers. Different trumpet blasts signalled a general advance, followed by another hail of javelins as both legions once more hurled their missiles at the enemy, the squeals and cries announcing that the latter’s ranks had been culled once more. Then the legions advanced north and south respectively, literally herding the enemy before them and creating a wide corridor behind them. Then Orodes led his horsemen out of the camp.
The corridor that had been created by the foot was wide enough to allow the Prince of Susiana to deploy his cataphracts in a great wedge formation, he and his bodyguard forming the point, the banners of Susiana and Dura fluttering behind him as he led the horsemen into the desert. Behind the cataphracts came the squires leading camels loaded with food, fodder, full water skins, spare arrows, weapons and clothing, plus the camels of the ammunition train. Either side of the squires, providing flank protection, rode two great columns of horse archers, each one riding parallel to the rear of the legions. As they did so they shot volleys of arrows over the legionaries into the ranks of the enemy foot soldiers, causing them to fall back further. Surena came last with the rear guard — a thousand horse archers following in the wake of the other riders.
The enemy’s attention had been first focused on what was happening at the southern entrance to the camp, especially after I led a hundred archers to pepper the enemy with missiles. The great number of horse archers deployed to the east and north of the camp remained immobile when the legions attacked from the camp’s western entrance. Now, as I ran with the other archers and those legionaries that had been detailed to support us to join the departing legions, the enemy horse archers began to move. Those to the north of the camp, obviously alerted by couriers to what was happening to the west, endeavoured to assault the Duran Legion. Fortunately for the Durans the enemy foot soldiers that had been herded north acted as a barrier between them and the horse archers.
By the time Narses had realised what was happening Orodes and the cavalry and camels were galloping west into the desert, leaving the legions to redeploy into a giant hollow square as it inched its way northwest, towards Hatran territory. I caught up with them as enemy horse archers forced their way into the empty camp via the eastern entrance. Everything had been packed into the wagons and on mules, which were now positioned around the inner sides of the hollow square.
The enemy cavalry had ridden out into the desert to try and catch Orodes, but had been recalled. The first part of the plan had worked — my horsemen had been saved. But then the grim realisation dawned on me that I plus thousands of others were now surrounded by around forty thousand enemy troops. Orodes may have escaped but our ordeal was only just beginning.
Chapter 5
I watched the great dust cloud thrown up by Orodes and his horsemen and camels grow smaller as they rapidly disappeared into the west. By contrast the pace of our great hollow square was painfully slow, literally inching its way to the northwest like an injured crab. I took up position on the southern side of the square, the men on all four sides having adopted what the Romans call a testudo formation. Derived from the Latin word for ‘tortoise’, it refers to the legionaries locking their oval shields together to the front and overhead as a protection against enemy missiles. So our massive tortoise crawled across the desert, five cohorts on each side of the square presenting a solid and impenetrable wall and roof of shields all the way round.
I felt like an unwanted guest at a banquet. I had no shield, no gladius and no use as I walked behind a wagon of cooking utensils with the other archers. All the wagons had been arranged so they ‘hugged’ each side of the square, which meant that there was a massive empty space in the centre of the square. Already the pungent smell of mules and their dung filled the warm air. I looked up and saw that the sun was finally breaking through the clouds. It was now mid-morning and the temperature was rising. It was going to be a long day.
Centurions and officers stalked around like hungry wolves, cajoling and encouraging their men. I saw Domitus strolling down the western side of the square, occasionally stopping and sharing a joke with some of the men and encouraging others. Alcaeus joined him as they made their way over to me. Thus far our progress had been relatively straightforward and unimpeded.
‘Orodes made good his escape, then,’ said Domitus.
‘It would appear so,’ I replied. ‘Did we lose many men in the fight earlier?’
He spat out a fly that had flown into his mouth. ‘A dozen killed, five wounded. The ballista shattered their morale before we even hit them.’
‘How are the wounded?’ I asked Alcaeus.
‘Those who can walk are accompanying the wagons that are carrying those too sick to use their legs.’
He had no helmet or mail shirt and carried only his medical bag slung over his shoulder.
‘You should get a mail shirt and helmet,’ I told him. ‘It’s quiet now, but soon the enemy will send their horse archers against us.’
‘In which case,’ he replied, ‘I shall shelter under the shield of a legionary.’
‘I would take Pacorus’ advice,’ said Domitus. ‘When they begin shooting the air will be thick with arrows.’
‘In that case, Domitus,’ quipped Alcaeus, ‘I shall be able to work in the shade.’
‘I could order you to wear a helmet,’ I said.