Читать книгу The Lost Knights - William Speir - Страница 11

117 A.D. – Caledonian Territory

Ninth Legion Base Camp

The Third Cohort marched quickly and quietly toward the hilltop where the base camp had been. They smelled it even before they broke through the tree line at the edge of the clearing. The bodies of the Roman Guards along the tree line were lying in the grass, still holding their shields and spears. Even though the birds had been busy picking the bones clean, it was clear that the guards’ throats had been cut.

As Gaius Valerius led his men up the hill, it was obvious that the enemy had attacked at night and with stealthy surprise. The guards below the hilltop had been silenced without being able to give warning. The guards on top of the hill must have known that something was happening. The arrangement of their bodies on the ground showed that they were assembling into formations when the enemy attacked, but they were clearly overrun by superior numbers.

The Caledonian attack was ferocious and successful. No Roman survived. A quick inspection of the camp showed that the Caledonians didn’t sack the camp nor take anything except for the horses. The tents, supply wagons, armor… all were left behind.

As Gaius Valerius walked to the center of the camp, he saw where the last stand had been made. He recognized the armor of the Legate, Marcus Sestius. His body was lying face down and headless in the grass. Gaius Valerius searched for a minute before finding the Legate’s head several feet away from the body. From the way the bodies were arranged, it appeared that anyone who wasn’t killed during the main fighting of the attack was beheaded afterwards. The Caledonian’s didn’t want prisoners or spoils; they just wanted the Romans dead.

The rest of the Third Cohort finished inspecting the base camp and gathered in the center of the hill to report and decide what to do next. The tactical situation wasn’t good at all. Clearly, the Caledonians would be giving no quarter to any Roman soldiers caught within their territory. The Cohort was over three week’s hard march away from the protection of the other Roman Legions in Britannia, and none of the Roman outposts in the region could provide much protection from the Caledonians – the four destroyed forts proved that clearly.

Gaius Valerius also knew that they couldn’t stay where they were. The base camp had proven indefensible, and if nine Cohorts hadn’t been able to defend the position, then one Cohort certainly could not. He gave orders to gather as many supplies as would fit on the supply carts that the Cohort had taken with them to Camelon, including swords, spears, and shields. He also gave orders to find the Aquila, Vexilla, Signum, and Imago for the Legion and the other Cohorts. If the Caledonians hadn’t taken them, then Gaius Valerius wouldn’t allow the symbols of the Legion to be left behind.

Gaius Valerius went to his tent and looked around. There were items that he wanted to take with him for sentimental reasons, but in the end, all he carried out was his traveling altar to Mithras. Perhaps his prayers to the god had spared his men, and if so, he intended to continue making prayers and sacrifices until his men reached safety.

After almost two hours, the carts were loaded and the men reassembled for the march. They hated leaving the bodies of their fellow Legionnaires behind where they had been found, but any delay increased their chances of being discovered and meeting the same fate. As they left the base camp behind them, each man mourned the loss of his friends, his brothers, and his fellow Legionnaires. After the last man left the clearing, an eerie quiet returned to the area, broken only by the sound of wings as the birds returned to finish their feasting.

Gaius Valerius had little time to plan before the Third Cohort left the base camp for the last time. He led his Legionnaires east – the same way they had just returned from Camelon. He was acting purely on instinct, but once the base camp was more than a league behind him, he called a halt to the march and summoned his Centurions.

“What are we going to do?” Titus Aurelius asked once the senior officers were out of earshot from the resting Legionnaires.

“We’re going to survive,” Gaius Valerius answered.

“How?” one of the other Centurions asked.

“I’m not sure, yet,” Gaius Valerius admitted. “We needed to get away from the base camp, but now we need to decide where to go and what to do. If we’re lucky, the Caledonians think that the entire Legion was at the camp and don’t know that we survived. If that’s the case, then we have a chance, but eventually someone will discover us. We’re too deep in Caledonian territory to get back to Eburacum and the Legions unnoticed.”

After a moment, he continued. “If I were the Caledonians, and I thought that I had just destroyed an entire Legion, I’d think that the Roman defenses to the south were diminished, and I’d start moving in that direction to begin the invasion. That rules out taking the direct southern route out of here. We never deployed to the west, so we don’t know what’s waiting for us there. We have deployed east, and know there’s little there including Caledonian settlements. I propose we go east and work our way down the coast. We may be able to get back to Eburacum slowly while avoiding contact with the enemy. I think we should make for Elginhaugh as quickly as we can and take some time to explore south along the coast to see if the way is clear. We can discuss other options depending on what we find. Agreed?”

The officers all nodded in agreement. They understood the seriousness of their situation and were grateful that their commander was thinking clearly. The eastern route made the most sense. They were abandoning their original mission; survival was the number one priority, and someone had to alert Rome of the loss of the Legion.

Legions had been lost before, and it was a tremendous blow to the Emperor and to Rome. Over a century before, three Legions had been wiped out by the Germanic tribes along the River Rhine, leaving the provinces of Gaul undefended. Rome mourned their loss until an expeditionary force could be assembled to extract retribution and subdue the Germanic tribes once again. There would need to be some sort of reprisal for the loss of the Ninth Legion at the hands of the Caledonians.

It took several days to reach Elginhaugh, and the fort was in the same condition as the other forts that the Legion had been sent to inspect. At no time did they see anyone else along the way. Everything along the River Esk seemed to be abandoned. Each Legionnaire hoped that they’d continue to find the same thing as they moved south.

The Legionnaires of the Third Cohort deployed to make camp. It would be another cold camp until scouts could confirm that there were no Caledonians nearby. The fort at Elginhaugh guarded a bridge over the River Esk, and guards were placed there in case anyone should attempt to attack from the direction of the river.

Scouts were sent to the west and the south. The scouts sent to the west were tasked with removing any traces that the Cohort had passed that way and to see if they had been followed on their march eastward. The scouts sent to the south were tasked with seeing if the way was clear and determining potential options for alternate campsites.

Two days later, the scouts sent to the south returned. “We found the enemy,” they said to Gaius Valerius as they came up to him to report.

“Where are they?”

“About a day’s march south of us, directly between us and Eburacum. The force is immense – larger than any enemy force I have ever seen.”

“How many?”

“I would estimate between thirty and forty thousand, plus women and children. It’s as if the entire country is preparing to move south, but with so many people, they can’t move very quickly.”

“Is there any way we can get around them?”

“Not that I saw. The terrain is mostly rolling hills with few trees in that region. The Caledonians are spread out for leagues. We’d almost have to travel all the way to the western coast before turning south to pass them, and we don’t know what reception we’d have in that direction.”

Gaius Valerius thought for a moment about the information he had been given. They were cut off from the other Legions with nearly the entire Caledonian nation between them and safety. Tactically, it was an almost hopeless situation. But they were still alive, and that was something.

Another day passed before the western scouts returned. They had erased as much of the evidence of the Cohort’s march as possible, and they reported seeing none of the enemy. Gaius Valerius had the southern scouts return to spy on the enemy and report back as soon as they could.

As his Legionnaires continued to clean up the remains of the fort, a chamber was discovered under the garrison commander’s former quarters. Descending the stairs, Gaius Valerius recognized what it was immediately: a mithraeum (temple of Mithras), which was designed to resemble the cave in which Mithras was born. He felt that this was a good sign, and he ordered the men to have it cleaned and prepared. That night, he and his men worshipped there, sacrificing and giving thanks for their survival.

Scouting reports from the south noted that the Caledonians hadn’t moved in several days. It was as if they were waiting for something, but the scouts had no explanation as to why the Caledonians hadn’t attacked the Roman territories.

Several days later, Gaius Valerius called for a meeting of the entire Cohort to discuss their options.

“Under normal circumstances,” he began once everyone was assembled, “the officers would decide upon a course of action and issue orders to see that it was carried out. These aren’t normal circumstances. We’re deep inside enemy territory, and we’re completely cut off from reinforcements. The enemy has already proven that it can overwhelm a force of our size with ease, and if they attack the two Legions along the frontier in their current numbers, they’ll easily defeat the Roman forces defending the province of Britannia. After what happened to our Legion, I truly don’t see how our other Legions can defend themselves against the Caledonians. So, we’re left in a very bad position.

“Let us look at our options. One, we go north. The problem with this option is that it puts us deeper into enemy territory and farther from the safety of the Legions. Two, we go west. Going west by itself doesn’t buy us much except for a change of scenery. Three, we go south. We can’t go straight south because the main Caledonian forces are there, and we don’t have enough men or horses to attack their rear. If we go west and then south, we’d be in uncertain territory and might still find ourselves in the middle of the Caledonian forces. And if the Caledonian forces overrun our defenses along the border, going south is no help to us, and we’d be marching right towards the returning and victorious Caledonians. Four, we go east. The problem with that is we’re already on the coast, and we can’t swim to safety. Five, we stay here. Not an ideal option, but then none of them are. I’d like to know your thoughts,” he said as he gestured to the assembly that the meeting was now open for all to comment and discuss the options.

“What would we do if we stayed here?” Titus Aurelius asked.

“Blend in and attempt to show the Caledonians that we’re no threat to them. That would give us time to consider our long-term options, such as retuning to the Roman territories once the current crisis is over.”

“Why would they let us stay here?” a Principal from the Fourth Centuria asked. “They’ve already shown that they want all Romans dead and gone. Why would they ever let us live? They don’t take hostages, so using us for ransom isn’t going to happen. They don’t seem to want money, so paying them, even if we had something to pay with, isn’t an option.”

Several of the Legionnaires nodded in agreement with this. Gaius Valerius thought about it for a moment. “We do have something we may be able to barter with,” he said.

“What?” Titus Aurelius asked.

“Ourselves.”

“What do you mean? Are you suggesting we offer ourselves as slaves?”

“No, not as slaves. We’re soldiers, and we have several wagons filled with the best weapons that the empire has to offer. We can offer our services as soldiers, and we can offer to teach them military tactics.”

“What, to use against our own Legions to the south?” one of the Centurions asked. “Wouldn’t that make us traitors to Rome?”

Gaius Valerius nodded. “Possibly,” he replied. “The question we have to ask ourselves is this: what are we willing to do to survive? If we attempt to fight the Caledonians or rejoin the Legions at this time, we’ll surely be destroyed. No glory, no honor, just dead. If we want to live, especially if we want to rejoin the Legions to the south, we need to determine how we’re going to live. And by live, I don’t mean how we’re going to eat; I mean how we’re going to survive in the Caledonian’s territory.

“Right now, they want us dead, so what do we have that might make them change their minds about killing us. Weapons? If they wanted those, they would have taken them after they slaughtered our Legion. Money? Even if we had money, it wouldn’t be enough to secure our safety in or safe passage through their lands. Our value is in our skills, our training, and our knowledge of military tactics. Remember, Rome isn’t the Caledonian’s only enemy. There are Irish raiders in the west and German raiders from the east. We can offer to help the Caledonians defend themselves against their other enemies.”

“But what’s to stop them from taking what we provide and using it against the Legions at some time?” another Centurion asked.

“Nothing,” Gaius Valerius answered. “We can’t control how they use what we teach them, assuming that they’d even accept our services in the first place. All we can do is make sure that they understand we aren’t offering them services to be used against Romans.”

“Are you suggesting that we become mercenaries?” a Principal from the First Centuria asked. “I don’t fight for profit.”

“We all fight for profit,” Titus Aurelius stated, standing up and moving to the center of the assembly. “Think about it for a moment. We’re Romans, and we fight for the glory of Rome, but how many of us would still fight in the Legions if we didn’t get paid? Would we join and stay in the army for free? No! We fight because we’re paid to fight and because we get to keep the occasional spoils taken from our defeated adversaries. Let’s not kid ourselves on that point. We all joined the Legions for profit and glory, or because it was better than the alternatives. Would any of us be here if there were no money in it for us? It would be different if we were in Rome itself. We’d be defending our city which we’d do whether or not there was pay in it for us. But most of us have never even been to Rome, so what is Rome to us but a symbol, a rallying cry for our military services? Rome pays us to fight for her, but how will she pay us if we’re cut off from her and presumed dead? Do we stay loyal to a city that we’ve never seen, or do we stay loyal to each other and fight for each other’s survival? We’re already mercenaries. I think that what we need to decide here is who gets the money for our services. The Senate, the State, the Emperor, or us?”

Gaius Valerius smiled at his second-in-command and noticed that many were nodding in agreement with his words.

“Gentlemen,” Gaius Valerius began after a moment, “I know how hard it is to contemplate sacrificing our allegiance to Rome. I’ve been in the service of the Emperor most of my life, and I’ve fought in many campaigns on Rome’s behalf. In battle, I’d gladly die in the service of my Emperor, but if I do so, I’m actually dying for each of you, and I’d sacrifice myself to keep you safe at any time. We’re cut off from Rome with no immediate prospects of returning to her protection. How shall we live? As Romans or as men? I think the choice is that simple. If we live as Romans, we invite utter destruction at the hands of the Caledonians. If we live as men, and do what we have to in order to survive, we have a chance to stay alive in this land. If at some point we desire to return to the protection of Rome, assuming any of the Britannic Legions survive the coming invasion, we do so and make no mention of what we had to do as men to survive.”

The discussion went on for several more hours, and Gaius Valerius made sure that each and every individual had a chance to speak his mind freely, regardless of his position on the subject. Once the assembled Legionnaires finished speaking, he stood up and addressed everyone.

“I thank each of you for your comments. I understand the discomfort many of you have with the idea of abandoning our allegiance to the Emperor and to Rome herself. It isn’t a decision I could ever take lightly. There may be consequences of that decision down the road – dire consequences. And it may all be for naught. The Caledonians may decide to kill us anyway. They have every reason to do so, and it’s the safer option for them. We don’t speak their language, so we have to hope that someone amongst them speaks ours and can translate our offer to them…”

“Actually, sir,” a Legionnaire said, standing, “I do speak the language of the Caledonians. I learned it years ago before I was assigned to the Ninth, and I remember most of it.”

“Well, that improves our situation somewhat. Thank you,” Gaius Valerius said to the Legionnaire. “Here’s what I propose. I want everyone to think about this, discuss it amongst yourselves, and sleep on it tonight. Tomorrow morning, we’ll meet again, and we’ll vote on what to do. Majority rules, and everyone will be allowed to vote according to his own beliefs. No one will coerce anyone to vote one way or the other. Whatever the majority decides, that’s what we’ll do. If the majority wants to return to the Legions, we will all do so, even if it means our own death. If the majority wants to remain here, we will all do so and make every attempt to demonstrate to the Caledonians our worth so they’ll let us live. Agreed?”

Everyone nodded. The Legionnaires dispersed for the remainder of the day to contemplate their futures. Gaius Valerius went over to Titus Aurelius and thanked him for his comments. “I understood where you were going,” Titus Aurelius said, “and I wanted to help make the point. What are you going to do now?”

“I’m going to go around and talk to everyone individually and answer whatever questions I can. This is a big decision that I’ve asked them to make, and I want to make sure that each Legionnaire is making the right decision for himself.”

Gaius Valerius spent the rest of the day walking amongst the Legionnaires, Principals and officers, answering questions and listening to the thoughts and ideas of his men. The sun had long since set before he was finally able to get some rest.

The next morning, the entire Cohort met again. Each Legionnaire was asked vote by standing silently for the option he preferred. If there were no clear majority, Gaius Valerius would have them vote again and continue standing while he counted each vote. When he asked for the men to stand who wanted to return to the Legions, about fifty men rose to their feet including two Centurions. Gaius Valerius thanked them for their votes and asked the men to stand who wanted to stay and attempt to barter their services with the Caledonians to survive. The remaining five hundred and fifty members of the Cohort silently rose to their feet. It was decided.

In a ceremony the next night in the mithraeum, all outward symbols of the Roman Ninth Legion were retired and placed along the sides of the mithraeum walls. The Aquila, Vexilla, Signum, and Imago of the Legion and each Cohort were carefully placed in holders one at a time. The shields and armor were stacked along the opposite wall. The Legionnaires would keep their swords, but little else. If needed, their armor could be retrieved from the mithraeum, but the men wanted to present no outward appearance of having been part of the Roman military forces in Britannia.

As the ceremony ended, and the men left the mithraeum, Gaius Valerius wondered if they had made the right decision. Will the Caledonians let us live, or will they kill us anyway?