‘What about the Ninth, general?’ Corvinus asked, visibly affronted that his legion had not been mentioned.
‘I was coming to them, legate. Keep them hidden from view on the other side of the hill and then bring them over at dawn tomorrow and cross the bridge after the Fourteenth. Once the Britons break the survivors will head to the Tamesis. Just north of here it is less than a mile wide and apparently almost completely fordable at low tide; if you know the paths, there’s only a couple of hundred paces where you have to swim. We’ll try to stop them getting there and the fleet will try and pick them off in the water but I’m sure many thousands will escape across. Whilst we’re mopping them up I want the Ninth to head west with all possible speed and seize the north bank of the ford upriver; hold it until we arrive. If you have to fight your way across then so be it. Is that a task commensurate with your dignitas, Corvinus?’
Corvinus scowled, unsure of how to answer without appearing foolish, and instead just nodded dumbly.
Plautius gave a thin smile. ‘Good, I’m pleased to have found something worthy of you. Now, gentlemen, I’ll leave the battle orders for your legions and auxiliaries up to you; do what I have ordered in whatever way you see fit. Are there any questions?’
Vespasian looked around the other officers: most were looking at the map, mulling over the plan in their minds, their nods and sounds of agreement a testament to their finding it precise and workable. He caught a look of complicity pass between Corvinus and Geta and realised that the time that Narcissus had foreseen was fast approaching. He glanced at Sabinus, who nodded; he had also noticed the shared look and understood its significance.
After a few moments Plautius grunted in satisfaction. ‘Good. In the first contacts with the enemy I expect all of you to fight in the front rank. It’s imperative that the men know that their officers aren’t afraid of the sheer numbers of the clay-smeared bastards. Now return to your commands and start pretending to build camps; the Batavians should appear on that hill within the hour. I shall make sacrifices to Mars Victorious, Fortuna and Jupiter on the army’s behalf; let us hope that they hear me because this is going to be a very close-run action. Dismiss, gentlemen.’
‘Right, my lovelies, let’s get these bastard boats offloaded,’ Primus Pilus Tatius bawled at two centuries of legionaries, trained in assembling the pontoon bridge, looking unenthusiastically at a train of twenty ox carts each holding two fifteen-foot boats.
‘Don’t bother, primus pilus,’ Vespasian called, riding up the slope as fast as his dignitas would allow. ‘I’ve just had a look at the ground between here and where we’ll put the bridge across, it’s flat grassland; it’ll be much quicker to unharness the oxen and manhandle the carts down to the river.’
‘If you say so, sir.’ Tatius turned back to his men, some of whom were already obeying the last order. ‘Put those bastard boats back where you found them! Why are you taking them off perfectly good carts on which we can roll them down to the river?’ The legionaries looked confused at their primus pilus, but knew better than to ask questions. ‘That’s better; now unharness these oxen and take them away; and don’t eat them, they’re army property and need to report back to their rightful commander.’
‘Are the officers gathered at the praetorium, Tatius?’
‘Yes, sir, I left them there to come and sort out these boats.’
Vespasian kicked his horse forward through the carefully choreographed industry of constructing a marching camp and on towards the centre with Tatius following, having left the pontoon detail in the hands of the centuries’ optiones.
All of his tribunes, prefects and centurions from the legion and the attached auxiliary cohorts were waiting for him as he dismounted at the camp’s heart and handed his horse to a waiting slave.
‘I’ll be brief, gentlemen, as we should be on the move in a little over half an hour. Tatius has united the fifth and sixth centuries from the tenth cohort, both trained in pontoon construction, with the boats.’ He looked at his prefect of the camp. ‘Are the planks here, Maximus?’
‘Yes, sir. The first century of the second cohort is being issued with hammers and nails as we speak.’
‘Excellent. I’ve just been down to the river; the tide is on its way out but it is still a good fifty paces across, that’s thirteen or fourteen boats to span it, so we have enough to make a double span.’ He picked out Paetus from the crowd. ‘As soon as we make our move, Paetus, I want your lads to get down to the river and swim it in double quick time.’
The young prefect grinned. ‘I’ve already had them empty their water-skins and issued them with ten javelins each.’
‘Good. Once you’re across you’re to delay anything that tries to come and stop us finishing the bridge.’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘The Hamians will give you archer support from this bank.’ Vespasian looked for the prefect of the I Cohort Hamiorum. ‘How many arrows have your lads been issued with?’
‘Fifty apiece and twice that many on the reserve carts.’
Vespasian nodded. ‘That should last the day. I want all the legion’s bolt-shooters attached to the Hamians, Maximus.’ The prefect of the camp nodded. ‘Once the bridge is down — and let us pray to Janus that we can do it in half an hour — then the first cohort will lead the way over the right-hand bridge with Tatius and myself in the front rank. You will all follow our example, gentlemen, and fight in the front ranks of your units, even the young gentlemen.’ Vespasian cast his eye over the five youthful faces of the thin-stripe military tribunes, their shining eyes and earnest faces betraying excitement and apprehension in equal measure, and prayed that none of them would succumb to the mindless battle-frenzy that used to plague him in his youth; there was no place for that in the disciplined ranks of the legions. ‘Once across, the first cohort will form up facing north with the river right on their flank. They will be followed by the second with Mucianus in its front rank and then other cohorts in order. We’ll form up in three lines with four cohorts in the second line. The left-hand bridge will be for the auxiliaries; I want the Gallic cavalry ala over first to seize the high ground on our left flank as quickly as possible and hold it until the five Gallic infantry cohorts arrive. They should form up on the hill, maintaining contact with the legion’s left flank; the cavalry will then act as a deterrent for any attempt to outflank us up there. The legionary cavalry will be the last to cross and will act as a reserve. The Hamians and the artillery will stay on this bank and move forward with us, so the carroballistae should stay on their carts and shoot from them. However, today we will not move forward as our orders are to hold the bridgehead and wait for the Twentieth. Any advance we do make will be short and tactical and will be signalled by the first cohort; you will move to support it. Is that all clear, gentlemen?’
Murmurs of agreement from the assembled officers answered Vespasian’s question. ‘I very much doubt that we will be allowed to deploy unmolested but the quicker we do this thing the more chance we have of taking the Britons by surprise. But they will come for us, be assured of that, and they will try to push us back across the river.’ He looked out towards the horde of tribesmen on the hill opposite, less than a thousand paces away; they had given up their jeering and now seemed preoccupied with cooking their supper and drinking. Their voices were a constant background drone. ‘We mustn’t allow that to happen, so we will have to fight hard against odds of five or six, maybe even seven to one. Our objective is to secure a bridgehead by dusk; then the Twentieth will come over and join us, relieving our auxiliaries on the high ground. After that we will have a hard night of it, remaining in formation, sleeping briefly by rotation after what has already been a tiring day. In the morning we advance north and that, gentlemen, will be a bloody path.’