Almost sixty men, in two lines, crept forward towards the edge of the clearing; ahead of them the Chauci talked amongst themselves, sharpening their swords and spear points on stones or flexing their muscles, suspecting nothing as the noise of the battle still raged.
Vespasian raised his arm, took a deep breath, looking left then right to check the decurions were watching, and then flung it forward. As one, the Batavians screamed their battle cry and then pelted out of the trees towards their enemy, shield to shield with javelins at the ready.
Taken completely by surprise the Chauci struggled to form up into two lines, their captains bellowing at them and shoving them into position as the low-trajectory javelin volley hit hard, tearing through the gaps in the incomplete shield wall. Screams filled the clearing as a dozen and more warriors were punched off their feet with the slender, bloodied tips of javelins protruding from their backs. Vespasian watched his missile slam into the throat of a huge blond man, throwing him backwards in a spray of gore with his blood-soaked beard resting on the shaft; he charged across the clearing, whipping his sword from its scabbard.
Keeping in good formation, the two turmae hit the disorganised Germans in unison, cracking their shield bosses, with explosive force, up into faces whilst thrusting low with their long cavalry spathae at fleshy groins and bellies, harvesting the slimy grey contents within. In a couple of places a wall had been formed and these warriors fought back with the ferocity of desperate men, jabbing their long spears over the shield rims at their onrushing foe with such strength that, with the momentum of the charge, their tips cracked through the chain mail, to lodge half a thumb’s length in a few screaming Batavians’ chests; not deep enough to kill outright but painful enough to incapacitate whilst a killing blow was administered.
Vespasian pressed his left leg forward onto the back of his shield giving it further support; he rammed it against the flat wooden shield of a young warrior snarling at him with bared teeth as he slashed downwards with his long sword. Magnus, on Vespasian’s right shoulder, punched his shield up taking the blow on the iron rim with a cloud of sparks. Vespasian ducked involuntarily and in doing so saw his opponent’s left foot exposed; with a fleet, brutal motion he sent the tip of his spatha crunching through the unprotected bones and on into the earth beneath. With a high, piercing scream the young Chaucian staggered back pulling his skewered foot away; Vespasian heaved his shoulder into his shield with enough force to send his unbalanced opponent tumbling onto his back. Taking a quick pace forward, he kicked the grounded man’s shield away to reveal his groin and slid his blood-slick sword between the legs; he held his wrist firm as the German juddered violently in agony and then ground it left then right as the warrior’s shrieks intensified. With a spray of crimson he yanked his weapon back out and moved forward on to the next man as the Batavian behind him punched his sword down into the writhing warrior’s throat, stilling his cries and severing the cord of his life.
Vespasian cracked his sword against a shield ahead as Magnus and Sabinus, one to either side, drew forward to stand shoulder to shoulder with him, sweating and blood-spattered, roaring their defiance with inarticulate bellows. Suddenly a shockwave rippled through the whole melee; Paetus’ turmae had struck the Germans in the rear. It was now just a matter of time. The Batavians pressed their advantage as the dwindling Chauci retaliated with ever-diminishing force until the last one slid to the churned ground with brains spilling out of what was left of his skull.
‘Halt and re-form!’ Paetus cried as the two opposing Batavian forces met either side of a ridge of mainly German dead and moaning wounded. The decurions bawled their wide-eyed, panting men back and into lines before they could do their own comrades any harm whilst under the influence of the rush of combat.
Vespasian sucked in cool air as he tried to steady his heartbeat and calm himself after the short but ferocious clash, feeling relief at having not lapsed into the mindless battle-frenzy. ‘We should get searching,’ he puffed to Thumelicus whose sword arm was streaked with blood.
The German nodded and barked at his five men to follow him as he turned towards the grove.
‘Have the men ready to move out as soon as we come back,’ Vespasian ordered Paetus as he, Sabinus and Magnus followed.
The grove consisted of about two dozen trees of such a variety of types that Vespasian realised that it must have been planted by man many years ago. He found Thumelicus by the stone altar at its dark centre between an ancient holly and a venerable yew.
‘There’s no sign of the Eagle here,’ the German said, puzzled. He kicked at the mossy, frozen ground but it was solid and showed no signs of recent disturbance.
‘What about in the surrounding trees?’ Sabinus asked.
After a futile search Thumelicus shook his head. ‘It’s not here.’
‘But you said it would be,’ Vespasian almost shouted in his frustration.
‘That doesn’t mean it has to be; perhaps they moved it deeper into their lands.’
‘Then why were they guarding this grove?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Perhaps they just wanted us to think it was here,’ Magnus suggested. ‘After all, fifty or so men aren’t going to stop determined people getting the Eagle, but it would be enough to convince people to look in the wrong place.’
Vespasian frowned. ‘So where could they have hidden it?’
‘I don’t know, perhaps we should ask one of their wounded.’
‘They won’t talk no matter what you threaten them with,’ Thumelicus stated.
‘What about the prospect of a nasty time in that wicker man back at the first clearing? That might-’
‘Of course!’ Vespasian exclaimed, turning to Magnus. ‘You’re right. They were trying to draw attention away from where they had hidden it by guarding the wrong grove. It’s in the first grove; we checked everywhere but we didn’t look inside the wicker man — gods, who’d go near such an unnerving thing? And it seemed to be empty because light was shining through it. But how come it was swinging when there was no wind? Because they had just finished hanging it up when we arrived! We must have just missed them. It’s in there.’
Sabinus smacked himself on the back of the head. ‘Of course, how stupid. I almost said that would be a good place to hide it as a joke.’
‘Would that have been funny?’ Thumelicus asked.
‘Not really.’
‘I thought not. We should go.’
‘We’re looking in the wrong place,’ Vespasian called to Paetus as he followed Thumelicus out of the grove. ‘We need to hurry.’
‘What about my wounded?’
Vespasian did not reply; he knew that Paetus would know what to do with those too severely hurt to be carried fast.
Thumelicus led them southwest along the side of the triangle they had not yet travelled. Despite the exertion of the previous hour Vespasian did not feel weary but, rather, invigorated by the prospect of finding the Eagle. The raucous sounds of battle growing ever closer, away to his right, gave even more urgency to the final sprint; he knew that as soon as the Romans broke the Germans the wood would be filled with not only defeated fugitives but also with Gabinius’ troops hunting the same trophy.
After a lung-tearing run of almost a mile they entered the first clearing from the opposite side. The wicker man was still visible hanging over the altar at the centre of the four oaks that made up the small grove. Thumelicus ran over to it and stopped, looking up at the chilling artefact.
‘Can you see it?’ Vespasian asked, stopping next to him.
‘No, I can’t make out anything inside it; we need to get it down.’
‘We should be very careful.’
Thumelicus looked at Vespasian with a pained expression. ‘Do you really think that I don’t know what sort of traps could be protecting this?’ He turned to his five men and spoke to them in German; they immediately began to hoist the lightest of their number up on to the lowest branch in the grove using their clasped hands as steps. ‘Move away from the altar,’ Thumelicus advised Vespasian, Sabinus and Magnus.