‘Whether they have or haven’t, they’re heading this way, my friend,’ Sitalces replied, ‘and I don’t fancy our chances if they come across us.’
‘We’ll have to outrun them along the river,’ Vespasian shouted and urged his horse into a gallop.
The jolting and bumping of the rough ride brought Rhoteces back to consciousness and his struggling and muffled protestations could be heard over the hoofbeats.
In less than a third of a mile the country started to become rougher and the horses were forced to slow to a canter; even at that speed they were pulling away from the Roman squadron, but the Getic dust cloud was gaining on them. They crested a hill and the great Lysimachid fortress of Axiopolis came into view two miles away.
‘That’s where the river bends to the north,’ Vespasian called across to Sabinus as they sped down the slope. ‘I don’t fancy taking the priest in there; Poppaeus doesn’t know for certain that we’ve got him, but he’s bound to have agents within the garrison who’ll put him right. What do you think we should do?’
‘Skirt around it and carry on in a straight line,’ Sabinus called back, ‘that way we’ll lose the fleet and only have the Getae to worry about.’
‘Oh, that’s all right then,’ Magnus said.
A dull thump and then whinny from Rhoteces’ horse as it reared up brought them all to a skidding halt. The priest had managed to undo the rope that bound his wrists to his ankles under the horse and was now hopping, feet still tied together, in the opposite direction.
‘The little sod,’ Magnus exclaimed, leaping off his horse. He raced back and jumped on Rhoteces, slamming him to the ground and dealing him a crashing right hook. The priest went limp, blood oozed out from under the gag and another bruised swelling appeared on his left cheek.
Sitalces ran back to help Magnus lift the unconscious prisoner back on to his horse, which refused to stand still and danced this way and that, snorting and shaking its head. They struggled to secure the rope under the beast’s belly.
‘Hurry up!’ Sabinus urged. ‘The squadron’s gaining on us.’
From across the water the flute whistles had quickened. In an effort to catch their quarry before the river took them away all ten ships had accelerated to ramming speed, which they could maintain for only a few hundred strokes before the rowers were blown. They were now under a half-mile away. Vespasian could see their ballistae crews loading their weapons, which would very soon be in range.
To the south the Getic horde was now visible under its dust cloud as a dark stain on the ground.
‘Done,’ Magnus shouted eventually as he and Sitalces finally pulled the knot tight and headed back towards their horses.
Two plumes of water burst from the river, just five paces short of the bank, covering them all in a fine spray.
‘Fuck, we’re in range!’ Sabinus yelled, turning to go. Another stone whistled just over their heads causing Magnus to look up; he instantly jumped on Sitalces, pushing the huge Thracian over; a rock slammed into the ground that he had been standing on an instant before and went bouncing off, narrowly missing the provisions horse that Artebudz was leading.
‘I’d forgotten how easily you went down, my friend,’ Magnus quipped as he hauled himself to his feet.
‘I suppose you think that makes us even, Roman,’ Sitalces grinned, ‘but I’d say that’s two falls I owe you for.’
They raced for their mounts as the others began to pull away. As Magnus flung his leg over his horse’s back it let out a shrill cry and buckled underneath him. Its hindquarters were a mash of torn flesh and splintered bone. A bloodied rock, twice the size of a man’s fist, rolled on the ground.
‘Take this one,’ Artebudz called back, offering Magnus the lead of the provisions horse. Another plume of water burst from the river. Magnus did not need a second invitation; pulling the priest’s horse behind him, he sprinted forward and threw himself over the fresh mount, kicked it into action and accelerated after his comrades, leaving his wounded horse thrashing and screeching, helpless behind him.
Vespasian looked over his shoulder to make sure his friend was following; another two shots slammed into the ground, kicking up tufts of grass and showers of earth as Magnus wove between them. Spray from a series of eruptions close to the bank filled the air with a fine mist, soaking their hair and clothes and producing small rainbows that arched in front of them as they pressed their mounts forward at full gallop.
The shots started to fall short as the ships’ exhausted rowers, freemen with rights, not slaves to be whipped to the point of death, slowed their stroke, unable to sustain for a moment longer the relentless beat of ramming speed without fouling their oars. Vespasian eased his horse back into a canter, which they maintained for a further mile. The river had begun its turn northwards and they left its bank so as to pass to the south of Axiopolis. To their right the Getae were just over a mile away.
‘They’ve changed direction,’ Sitalces called out over the hoofbeats.
‘What?’ Vespasian shouted.
‘The Getae, they’ve changed direction; they’ve veered to their left,’ Sitalces called back. ‘They seem to be heading for the curve in the river, they’ll pass behind us.’
‘That’s the first good news I’ve heard today,’ Magnus said, trying to ease a particularly lumpy bag of salted pork out from under his bruised backside.
They had reached the apex of the curve. Looking north, up the river, Vespasian gasped as he understood the reason for the Getae’s change of course. The river, over five hundred paces wide at this point, was flecked with scores of coloured sails. The Getic fleet had left the safety of its home ports to the north of Scythia Minor, as yet unconquered by the legions of Rome, and had sailed south in an attempt to rescue the stranded raiding party.
‘Shit, our boys in the squadron can’t see them, they’re hidden by the bend,’ Vespasian exclaimed as they all slowed to take in the magnificent sight.
‘What do you mean, “our boys”?’ Magnus grumbled. ‘The bastards were shooting at us just now.’
‘There’s fuck-all that we can do about it,’ Sabinus said. ‘If we try to warn the squadron they’ll just start shooting at us again, so let the navy-boys sort out their own problems.’ Sabinus, like most Romans who had served in the legions, had nothing but contempt for the navy, which they considered a poor relation to the army.
‘I suppose you’re right,’ Vespasian agreed. ‘Let’s get out of here whilst we still can.’
They passed to the south of Axiopolis, heading southeast, and started to climb the ridge of hills that forced the Danuvius north, away from its easterly route. At the summit they paused and looked back, with a bird’s-eye view, on the events unfolding below.
The Getic war band had arrived at the river’s edge and had opened fire on the surprised Roman squadron. Patches of river were obscured by fast-moving clouds — volleys of Getic arrows — which swarmed on to the decks of the Roman ships, felling artillerymen and marines as well as causing havoc amongst the unprotected rowers in the biremes. Despite their losses they returned fire, still oblivious to the presence of the Getic fleet half a mile from them around the bend in the river. Vespasian watched as scores of horsemen were felled by the lethal ballista shots; but they kept pumping volley after volley of arrows into the three closest ships, which were now unable to manoeuvre owing to severe casualties amongst the rowers. Disembodied shouts and screams floated up on the wind that was gradually gaining in strength. The two triremes and the five remaining biremes turned to face the Getae cavalry on the shore and, firing as they went, rowed to the rescue of the stricken ships, leaving them broadside on to the leading triremes of the Getic fleet as they rounded the bend. On sighting the Romans they accelerated to attack-speed, their whistled beats cutting through the air. The ballistae on the walls of Axiopolis opened fire at them as they passed beneath it; white explosions peppered the water around the fleet but they came on undeterred at the Romans who, caught between manoeuvres, failed to turn to face them.