As darkness began to quickly fall and it became difficult to make out the ridge and the crag beyond, Caradoc raised his arm and signalled his warriors forward, they would use the thick woods as cover and find Elud at the base of the ridge where he had agreed to meet them, saying his sister would be told he was out hunting. Brennus had argued that it wasn’t wise to trust the Cornovii, the local people, but he had eventually succumbed. They had agreed that in the unlikely event that they were being led into a trap, they would fight their way clear and disperse back into the mountains to the west as quickly as possible. They knew that the Romans would be hesitant to pursue them, knowing that they could be easily led into an ambush themselves in hostile territory. Caradoc and Ardwen had ensured that they only took only their very best warriors with them, men that they could trust and who would fight their way clear if need be.
Silently, except for the sound of their horses hooves padding on the pine needle covered ground and their breathing, they slowly made their way towards the ridge where their mounts would be left to await their return. Caradoc wondered briefly how many horses would return led by others, rider-less, but he quickly dismissed the idea, now was not the time for hesitation. He knew that Dumnoc was taking the fight to the enemy in the south and had already led two successful raids on villas, now it was his turn to lead by example.
Varro had been wrong about the Britons vanishing the next day and as dawn broke, pale drawn faces stared out at them from the trees across the clearing. The rain had stopped but the ground was covered in mud all around the sieged fort and littered with already decomposing and bloated corpses that were starting to smell.
“Here we go again,” Cammius said quietly to Varro, “don’t they ever give up?”
He didn’t wait for a reply before going on and shouting across the walls. “Choose your targets carefully men and only fire when you are certain of hitting them, this will be their last chance because reinforcements will arrive today and they’ll all cover the ground tomorrow, dead and putrid like their friends out there.” His words were met with nervous smiles, clearly the men weren’t reassured.
As they watched, one man stepped forward out of the trees, he raised his arms showing that he was unarmed but bowmen and the scorpion crews trained their weapons on him regardless.
“Hold.” Cammius ordered raising his right arm. He turned to Varro. “Mm I wonder what he wants.” He asked.
Varro replied, “Maybe he’s going to ask if he can surrender.” He smiled, “or most likely, ask, for our surrender.”
“Well if he is, he won’t get it but what he will get though is an arrow through his head for his trouble.” Cammius replied frowning out over the bodies between them and the Britons. He looked quickly to the interior of the fort, “and we haven’t got enough space for their surrender anyway.” He said smirking.
“Romans,” the warrior shouted in heavily accented Latin, “we go now and leave you to this place. We know that your leaders will send help and after many days of fighting we are in no position to face fresh soldiers. We have taken many injured in our number, but we have also bled your men and the other fort is destroyed and its men all dead.” He pointed off in the direction of Restormel. “Know this……” he paused, “we will return to this place. We will not let you rest until we have sent you back to the sea. This is our land, our soil where our ancestors were born, you do not belong here and we will fight to the last man or woman, wherever we find you.”
The pale faces began to vanish into the foliage until there was only one left, the man who had shouted. He bowed slightly as if in respect and then turned and disappeared into the trees.
Cammius turned to Varro, “Quite eloquent for a barbarian eh?” He said. “Dumb bastard!”
Varro continued to stare outward, “We should wait until we’re certain they are gone. It could be a trick.” He said.
“Yes I suppose you’re right, tricky these Britons eh?” he turned to address his men. “Right, all those who were due to be stood down, go and get some rest, those others are to stay on duty until relieved.” He began to walk towards the nearest ladder. “Come on Varro let’s get some breakfast and then we’ll decide the way ahead eh, I wonder if there’s any pork left over?”
By mid-morning there had still been no movement outside the walls of the fort or in the woods beyond, it was quiet except for the carrion fighting and squawking over the corpses below. Cammius and Varro had climbed the ladder three times since the appearance of the chieftain, but had not seen or heard anything that would indicate the Britons were still there, they were sure they had gone. The two centurions had decided upon a plan, rather than waiting for fresh troops to arrive, a squad of twenty four men including Varro’s Equites Legionis would venture outside, all had been briefed that at the first sign of trouble they were to retreat to the safety of the fort immediately. The remaining legionaries were stood to and manned the walls and gate, ready to respond if required at a moment’s notice. Varro’s men had been given legionary scutums that would afford them better protection in case of attack, and they would form a testudo with the other regular troops and withdraw under cover from the defences.
The twenty four men were in six rows of four as the gates creaked open for the first time in days. They all wore full armour, chainmail in the case of Varro’s men, segmented armour, for the regular infantry. The first task was to reconnoitre the immediate perimeter where the dead lay up to the edge of the woods, if the area was all clear, they were to look for any signs of the enemy where their camp had been, but were ordered not to enter the woods immediately. It was all to be done in slow time, they couldn’t risk any more casualties and they certainly couldn’t risk any of the Britons getting beyond their own perimeter.
Varro was to lead the reconnaissance patrol and stood in the front rank with his eyes searching the mud and corpse strewn ground in front of him beyond the gates. He raised the pila he had been given for the task and indicated for the patrol to move forward, shields raised, every soldier was carrying a javelin. Once the last man had exited the gates, they were slowly closed behind them but were not secured in case they needed to retreat quickly. Varro stopped and listened for any sign of movement, his ears scanning in all directions but there was nothing. He turned and looked up above the fort’s gates and saw Cammius standing ready, he shrugged down at Varro.
The centurion turned away and said quietly to the men who had volunteered to go with him. “Remember at the first sign of trouble, we’re to double back to the gates, shields up and they’ll be opened for us, so get inside as quickly as you can. The men on the walls will take care of anyone coming after us, just don’t look back.”
Mutters met him in reply as eager eyes roamed the ground that had become a cemetery like wasteland outside the fort.
“Advance.” Varro ordered quietly as he slowly moved forward lowering his javelin level with the ground. Taking single steps, progress was slow as the small column of legionaries moved away from the gate, a few men gagged quietly at the stench of the swollen and bloated corpses.
“Get your scarves round your mouths and noses if you can’t stand the stench.” He said ordering the men to halt while scarves were pulled up around their faces, including his own.
“Advance.” He ordered again and moved forward. It took some time for them to satisfy themselves that the Britons weren’t nearby, except for the dead. Varro halted the men again and called Grattius forward.