Chapter 5
Chapter Five
It was afternoon on a blue-sky day in late summer.
Lucius Gallus Antonius surveyed the massive multiple earthworks of Mai Dun that rose hundreds of feet into the western sky.
This hillfort was the largest they had encountered during their campaign across the south of Britannia. It would require a full-scale siege.
As Praefectus Alae, the commander of five hundred auxiliary cavalrymen attached to the Second Legion of the invading Roman army, his first role in the offensive was this scouting mission.
He and a detail of men accompanied the engineers whose earthworks would withhold water from the settlement, while the encircling army isolated its inhabitants and held them captive until the Roman armaments pulverized their defenses and slaughtered the defenders.
First, the engineers would build a ditch around the hillfort to block any escape routes and cut off the nearby water supply.
Then they would assemble siege weapons and begin firing ballista and scorpio bolts over the ramparts to inflict casualties and demoralize these enemies of Rome.
When the hillfort’s supplies were close to running out, its inhabitants would try to escape or mount an attack.
Then the mighty Roman army would destroy their warriors.
Every. Last. One.
Their women and children would be enslaved, bringing each member of the army a bonus.
No one should resist the will of Rome. From Greece to Carthage, Egypt to Gaul, Rome had shown the great nations of the world that it was stronger.
It was laughable for these barbarians of Britannia, with their simple architecture, basic road engineering, and inferior warcraft, to resist the might of Rome when other, more-advanced civilizations could not.
The Second Legion would crush their resistance.
Eager to begin his work, Lucius swiveled in his saddle to address the two engineers and the squadron of thirty cavalrymen who accompanied him. “We find their water sources,” he commanded. “Then we can plan the easiest way to dam them.”
Lucius noted the new fortifications, including massive gates blocking entry to the hillfort’s east rampart. They rode south of the settlement, assessed the river running there, and planned how to cut off access to it. As they passed the western gate, his gaze moved across the terrain.
Several trackways, at least two-cart-widths wide, and formed from saplings imbedded in the ground, led in different directions away from the track that wound down between the multiple earthen ramparts from the fort’s western entrance.
Honing in on the area, he slowed his horse’s pace.
As expected for such a major center, there was ample evidence of the passage of livestock.
But there was something else.
His heart rate hitched up a notch.
On the trackway heading north there were many fresh horse droppings. Newly flattened grass spanned either side of the track through the green farmland. He urged his mount faster, following the evidence.
The trail continued northward.
There was no doubt in his mind now. A large group had travelled through here today. An armed party of warriors or refugees fleeing the hillfort?
He needed the answer, to report back to his commander, Legate Vespasian.
It was growing late in the day and they still needed to search northward for other watercourses. He and his men followed the tracks, since they headed in the right direction.
The sun was dipping behind them when they came upon a stream heading towards the hillfort. They needed to follow it to find a suitable place to dam it, but they must report the massive, defended settlement and the location of its water sources to Vespasian before nightfall.
Lucius decided his course of action and rode over to his second-in-command.
“Decurion, I want you and the turma to return to the legion and report what we have found to the Legate. Engineers Cassius and Caius and I will scout for a dam site for this stream, and will return by nightfall to complete the report.”
The order issued, the squadron of cavalry headed eastward for the marching camp of the Second Legion.
Lucius turned to his half-brother, Adler, who still rode beside him.
At first sight, many thought they were identical twins.
To the casual observer, only Adler’s light brown hair differed from Lucius’s black.
Mere weeks separated them in age. “You too, Adler. Go with the turma. We won’t be far behind you. ”
Adler raised a questioning eyebrow then nodded and directed his horse after the departed men.
Lucius, flanked by the engineers, watched Adler canter away.
“Are you sure you can trust him?” Engineer Cassius asked Lucius in an undertone.
Lucius’s body stiffened, making his mount restless. “I trust Adler with my life. He’s my half-brother and my oldest friend, and his loyalty cannot be questioned.”
The man looked skeptical. “But he’s also a slave and half Germanic. Have you told him that when you die, your will sets him free?”
“He knows,” Lucius growled.
“Hmmm,” Cassius murmured.
Damn the man for being so skeptical. It raised niggling doubts in his mind.
Lucius needed to be able to trust his own brother, not be watching his back in the midst of a campaign.
Lucius pushed the disturbing thought into the depths of his mind and gathered his reins, urging his horse forward. “We continue north.”
They turned their mounts northward again and followed the obvious trackway beside the watercourse, looking for the best place to dam it.
Lucius didn’t have much more military service to complete before he commenced his political career.
The sooner the natives of Britannia were quelled, the quicker he would be able to pursue his political aspirations in the Empire, as befitted a Roman citizen from a wealthy family such as his.
He would continue to build the prestige of his family, which had followed the same path for generations—accumulating power and riches.
There was only one more step—achieving membership of the senatorial class, the pinnacle of Roman society.
His father expected Lucius’s career to include his election into the Senate, but first, Lucius wanted appointment as a governor to one of the territories of the empire.
Somewhere with sunshine, not this land of mizzling rain.
He would marry a daughter of an important family and maintain a life of wealth and grandeur.
Lucius smiled to himself. These were bolstering thoughts while he was stuck in this cold, damp backwater.
But for now, he must fight with valor, gain glory from his role in conquering the barbarians of Britannia, and bring this wealthy land under the control of the Roman Empire.
His family’s rise into the senatorial class depended upon his success.
A short while later, they found the dam site they sought and headed down an embankment to make a closer inspection. Apart from the sigh of the wind in the tall trees overarching the brook and the twitter of sparrows, all was quiet around the shaded watercourse. Lucius scanned his surroundings.
All was serene.
“We’ll water the horses here,” Lucius commanded.
They let their horses drink. Still pointing out features and discussing the best position for an earthen dam wall, Cassius and Caius dismounted to fill their water bladders.
Lucius lifted his nearly empty water bladder and vaulted to the ground from his four-pommeled saddle. His muscles screamed in protest from his long day in the saddle. He clasped his hands together and stretched them above his head to relieve the stiffness in his back.
Perspiration slid down his face. He unstrapped his plumed helmet and knelt before the stream, placing the headpiece beside him.
What god or goddess of this waterway did the local people revere? It wouldn’t be Lympha, the Roman deity of fresh water. Nevertheless, before they departed today, he would build a makeshift shrine to appease the goddess for destroying her peaceful grove. It was only right to do so.
He scooped water from the cool stream into his hand and lowered his head to drink.
Something slapped in the water in front of him, splashing his face. Lucius raised his hand to swipe the water from his eyes.
In the next second, he was fighting for his life.