Artorius dropped his pack on the floor, removed his helmet, and sat down on his bunk. Most of his men fell right on their bunks once they dropped their packs.
“You guys can sleep once you take care of stowing your equipment and servicing your weapons and armor,” he stated.
He heard a groan from some of them, but they knew there was nothing for it. They had maybe a day or two before they would march against Sacrovir and priority was making certain their equipment was fully serviceable.
“Come on guys, let’s get it done,” Magnus added as he started kicking at bunks.
There were no further complaints as the men went about checking their armor and weapons. Though they were exhausted, they were as fully aware of the gravity of the situation, as was Artorius.
Once he was satisfied with his own equipment, Artorius headed to the small bathhouse on the post. It was much smaller than the ones that graced legionary fortresses, but it still had all the facilities needed to thoroughly clean and rejuvenate oneself. He made sure that he took the time to shave as well, even though this was an almost unnecessary routine. Even after four days, his face bore few facial hairs. In truth, Artorius was glad for it. Roman soldiers kept themselves clean-shaven, for facial hair was seen as a sign of barbarism. The fact that he could not even grow a beard made it easier for him.
It was midafternoon when he walked back towards his billet, cleaned and wearing a fresh tunic. Though there was much activity going on at most of the barracks, the Third Cohort’s was dead as a tomb. As he walked by he could hear the audible snores coming from most of the section bays. He quietly opened the door to where his section was bunked and could hear the sounds of slumber coming from his men. Only Magnus had opted to go to the bathhouse right away as well, and he had not yet returned. Artorius knew he would sleep better now that he was cleaned and his muscles relaxed by the heated water. It was not until he lay down that the ordeal of the last four days hit him fully. He closed his eyes and did not open them again until well into the next morning.
Whilst Artorius and his legionaries slumbered, a tense silence gathered over Augustodunum as the rebels occupying the city awaited their leaders’ orders.
“Our men are fully equipped and ready to move against the Romans,” Taranis reported. Sacrovir stood on the balcony and gazed over the city. People were cautiously milling about, though many were fearful of Sacrovir and his army. Even more so, they feared that the Romans would lay siege to their town and destroy it.
“Still no word from Florus?” he asked after a long pause. Taranis shook his head.
“None. We should have heard from him by now. I wonder if his efforts to succor the Treveri were in vain; or worse if he fell afoul of the Roman Army.”
“We will have to move without him,” Heracles remarked, walking out onto the balcony. “We should have attacked the Romans much sooner. Their four Cohorts have now expanded into two full legions, plus several Cohorts from surrounding garrisons. Had we done so, we could have wiped out their little force before these arrived.”
Sacrovir turned to face him. “Heracles, I appreciate your candor as always. However, I have made it a point of defeating the Romans when they muster their forces. It will have a much deeper impact than for us to have simply routed a few cohorts holed up in a tiny fort.” “Well, I do agree with our Greek friend that we should attack soon,” Taranis replied. “Our forces are not nearly as large as we had hoped, though they are still significant enough to smash two legions.”
“We must move now, before they bring up any more troops,” Heracles continued. “We have trained our men on how to fight against the Roman legions, but our army still lacks the unnerving discipline that the Romans possess.”
Sacrovir looked thoughtful for a moment then nodded. “I agree with your assessment, Heracles. Two legions will have to suffice for the slaughter. Our forces outnumber theirs nearly four to one. We will shatter their pathetic formations and feed them to the wolves!”
Secretly Heracles wondered whether or not they had waited too long. Two legions of Roman soldiers was a formidable force, no matter how badly outnumbered.
“They are on the move!” a legionary shouted as he ran up to Agricola.
The centurion rushed to the edge of the wood line to see for himself. Augustodunum’s gates were open with thousands of armed men pouring out. Agricola swallowed hard when he saw how well many of them were equipped.
Though there were many light troops amongst their ranks, a significant number were completely encased in armor. These particular troops wore gladiator helmets, and each carried a small buckler and gladius. Agricola surmised that these would make up the van of Sacrovir’s army. Thankfully they had no cavalry to speak of, only their senior leaders riding on horses.
Agricola signaled to his tesserarius. “Take my horse and ride like hell back to the rest of the army. Tell Legate Silius that the enemy is on the move. Ask him to send a dispatch rider to me. I will update him as to the enemy’s progress at that time.”
“I’ll come back myself,” the tesserarius replied. Agricola nodded in reply and waved for him to go.
“Optio Castor!” the centurion called.
His second came running over from the line. “Sir?” “Get the men on their feet and ready to move. Leave six of our best runners with me. We will keep a visual on the enemy while you take the rest to link back up with the cohort.”
“Right away,” the optio acknowledged. “First Century, on your feet!”
“I’ll see you in a couple hours,” Agricola said to his tesserarius as the man saluted, turned his mount, and rode away at a gallop. The centurion then turned to see his six runners awaiting his orders.
“Alright lads,” he said, “let’s get back up to the tree line and see what those bastards are up to. I want you to take notes on everything you see. Get as accurate a count as you can regarding their overall strength, as well as light and heavily armed troops. Any questions?”
The men shook their heads.
“Let’s get this done.”
Artorius was lounging next to the open gate of their tiny fort when he saw the rider approaching. He recognized the man as Agricola’s tesserarius, and he was riding for all he was worth. He rode into the camp of the main force and looked to be headed right for the Principia, where Silius’ headquarters was posted.
“Anything good happening?” Magnus asked with a yawn.
Artorius had not even noticed his friend walking up to him. He could only nod in reply.
“Make sure the lads are up. If they haven’t had breakfast, have them do so now. I sense that we may be moving soon.”
There was a flurry of excitement going on in the main camp. Artorius knew it would not be long before the order to move was given. He was suddenly thankful that he had gotten a full night’s sleep, for his body had sorely needed it. He was still a little stiff, but his muscles would loosen up once they were on the march. It would not be long before the issue was decided, and Artorius was tired of waiting.
“I agree with Agricola’s assessment that the enemy intends to face us here,” Calvinus remarked as he pointed to a section on Agricola’s map that showed an open plain just a few miles away.
“We can get there well before Sacrovir does and deny the terrain to him,” Chief Tribune Decius replied.
Silius sat with his chin resting in his hand. “What do you guys think?” he asked his first centurions, who always were part of the legion’s tactical planning.
“I say let Sacrovir have it,” Draco offered. “That terrain will work more to our advantage than his. It will be a confusing mess if we try and fight him in the woods.”