Note from Kanuro5: Hey all you readers! Been waiting to put this chapter out for a while, but personal life gets in the way. I'm in the midst of finding a new laptop since the one I'm currently using may give up at any moment. But at the same time, I want a gaming laptop that can play Total War: Attila at Full Resolution, but of course that cost $$$, *sigh* the struggle is real. Sorry for rambling, Enjoy!
XXV
The Beast Stalks
Day 48 of the Campaign
The early morning sun began to crack between the grey clouds, letting loose slivers of sunbeams onto the bustling Roman encampment. The legionaries had just finished breakfast and were in the midst of disassembling the camp to continue their march. After enduring the brutal, frozen night, no man was surprised to find the ground blanketed with pristine snow that rose past one's ankle.
As the camp was halfway dissembled, Lucius had order his sons to find him so he could give them news of a mission for them and their mounted Auxilia. Proculus was walking from his tent when Cassius came up behind him, holding a cooked hare's leg.
"Proculus, I fetched the remainder of the hare for you."
"Gratitude, Cassius." Proculus took the leg and tore off the meat in one mighty chomp before discarding the bone into the snow.
Cassius raised an eyebrow, "Does something trouble you?"
"No, I am fine," Proculus returned with a smirk, "My heart beats with excitement, a new day has arisen before us, Cassius. My brother and I finally attained an amount of closure with our father last night."
"I am aware; you would not keep quiet about it when I returned last night."
"Please inform me Cassius, why did you return so late?"
The young bodyguard chuckled lightheartedly, "It embarrasses me to admit, but I got lost for a moment and had trouble returning, but I discovered a resting ground for a stag and killed him for the meat we had today. So I figured it worked out well in the end."
"It surprises me how at ease you can be from being lost in the phantom night in the freezing cold."
"As a hunter, one must acclimate himself to his surroundings and must not give into fear. I have also experienced such "accidental misplacement" several times before, the fear dies down eventually."
Proculus shrugged and went on his way to his father. By the time both men reached Lucius; Vitus and Antonius were already patiently awaiting them.
"It lifts heart to see you both rise efficiently," Lucius told his son and bodyguard with a grin, "I trust all is well?"
"The freezing wind is gone and the weather is warmer than yesterday, such is always welcome," Proculus replied.
"Last night's chill may have disappeared, but it left a hindrance in its wake," Antonius said, playing with the thick snow in his hands.
"Yet we are Romans, Antonius," Vitus smiled confidently, "Weather may hinder us, but it shall not stop us."
"That is the confidence we need," Lucius said, proudly slapping his youngest on the shoulder. "The icy winds from yesterday are often a precursor to blizzards. We must make haste and move the legion forth."
"What are the lay of your thoughts, Father?"
"Vitus, Proculus; you two take your Auxilia Cavalry and scout ahead of the legion. The snow most likely buried the road, so I request both of you and the Thracians to find the road and keep to it. The legion shall be finished disassembling within an hour and ready to march. What is the number of the Auxilia, Vitus?"
"With the inclusion of the Gauls, around 200."
"Take half that number and prepare to move out immediately."
"Yes Father," both brothers said in unison.
"And my sons, same as always," Lucius' face softened, "Stay safe."
"We shall, Father."
10 minutes later, 100 horsemen of the Auxilia, including the twelve Gallic archers, were packed and ready to scout ahead. Vitus was reviewing the last of the men when Oroles came to him on horseback.
"It seems that we are situated, Commander."
"Good to hear. Oroles, who did you place in command of the reserve Auxilia?"
"Ralgylis takes command of the reserve. Ligadis is accompanying me on this scouting assignment."
"Good, standby with the men and prepare to move out," Vitus said as he jumped on his massive horse, Romulus.
Proculus and Cassius, on horseback, trotted towards Vitus. Proculus asked, "Is everything in order?"
"Indeed it is."
"Great. Oroles, it is your turn to hold the position of lead scout. I want you to—"
"Apologies, but if I may intervene," Cassius meekly spoke up, "Proculus, I wonder if I may assume position of lead scout for this scouting mission?"
"You? Why? You rarely volunteer for such an assignment?"
"I know. But I told you earlier, I hunted around this area late last night, I believe I can recognize the terrain in the morning light. Please enable me to be lead scout, Proculus."
Proculus looked at Vitus. The younger brother shrugged. Proculus said, "But you are my bodyguard, I do not believe it wise for you to be lead scout."
"If you have fear of harm coming to you…" Cassius smirked, "Then stay close to me, and I shall protect you. Besides, as a Commander, you must gain experience leading from the front."
"'Stay close to you?'" Proculus said with an incredulous laugh. "I believe you have the roles reversed, my friend. As you wish, Cassius, be lead scout."
The horsemen of the Auxilia lined up in a neat column with Cassius at the head, Proculus and Vitus behind him, and Oroles and Ligadis behind them. Cassius gave a confident nod to the brothers, Vitus nodded back and stirred his horse and shouted back to the Thracians, "Forward!" The horsemen galloped out of the encampment as the legionaries looked on.
Ten minutes had passed since half the Auxilia left the camp, now they were slowly trotting down the snow covered road, their cautious eyes scanning the winter landscape for anything or anybody strange.
"Hold!" Cassius shouted back to the cavalry as he stopped his horse and held his hand up. The entire column stopped, while the officers moved up closer to investigate.
"What is it, Cassius?" Vitus asked.
"Fork in the road."
The singular road split off to the right and to the left, both roads equally covered in snow and equally surrounded by a dense forest. The left road seemed to dip into a slight decline whilst the right road seemed to lead into a mounded area of small hills. Oroles arrived and made a quick judgment.
"Commander Vitus and Proculus, I suggest we split forces and cover each road for the sake of time. Within twenty to thirty minutes, we come back here and report on which road to take."
"The plan seems sound." Vitus nodded.
"Apologies, Oroles," Cassius said, "but I would object to such a notion."
The Thracian Captain scrunched his face, "Why?"
"Turn your gaze to the snow on the left road."
Imprinted on the snow were numerous animal tracks that led down to the left road, prints that were bigger than a man's foot.
"Such prints show mighty beasts which comb the left side of the forest, beast that will endanger us and the legion. I suggest we take the right instead of the left."
"You jest?" Oroles said.
"I do not. There are some things in these Germanic forests that man does not hunt, things that anger when man approaches."
"Bah, you speak of mere superstition."
"He is correct." Ardunas came behind them, "The lands of Gallia had such creatures, and they found their way into Germanic land. Creatures more fearsome than wolves, larger than bears, monsters that the gods created to punish the wicked."
Oroles rolled his eyes and faced the Roman brothers, "Vitus, Proculus, you two cannot believe this. It is so absurd."
"I agree with Oroles, monsters cannot exist in that rode." Vitus added.
Cassius turned to Proculus in a near pleading tone, "Proculus, it may sound preposterous, but believe me that it is too real. Even if we do not encounter such menacing creatures, those prints show of bears and wolves, such of the kind that do not fear people. They shall strike at our horses and come at us. I beseech you to trust my instinct in not going down such a road. You gained your father's favor, do not betray his trust by failing to heed warnings of the supernatural."
Proculus thought it over for a moment before deciding in Cassius' favor. The road to the right would be taken.
"But what of the left road?" Oroles further objected, "We do not know if the left is shorter or if the right is longer."
"Our father told us that this main road leads to Samarobriva, regardless of the junctions we take, we shall reach the village. And I plan to be cautious with the lives of you Thracians and my father's Romans. Lead on, Cassius. We head right."
As the Roman and his bodyguard advanced ahead with the column following them, Oroles trotted along but shook his head in disapproval. Only Vitus noticed and spoke to him.
"I agree with my brother, Oroles. This seems the most appropriate action."
"I accept the decision…but I feel that we waste opportunity in exploration by not dividing our forces to cover more ground."
The winterized woodlands that the Auxilia entered had wrapped around them in a bleak embrace. The barren branches of trees that reached to the clouds bent low and covered the sky from the strange Auxilia, as if punishing the intruders who held the gall to enter her. A slow rising fog spewed from the frozen ground, wafting an unnerving chill into the faces of the horsemen. The soft caress of the fog on his cheek and the low obscurity of his vision sent a wild spasm through Vitus' body.
He gripped the reins tightly and his breath became hoarse. He had seen this before, no, he had done this before. His thoughts shot back to his seventh day of the campaign, where he was sent out to scout ahead and was rewarded with a Germanic arrow to the chest. He looked around the dense forest, trying to crack through the illusion of thousands of fir, willow, and oak trees to see any lurking Germanians that wanted his head.
Yet the trees blurred together and the glare from the snow blinded him. He tried to listen carefully, praying quickly to the goddess Diana to gain the huntsman's ear to hear his enemies. But he heard nothing. The forest was silent. No animals, no wind, not even snow falling through the branches. The only sound that was being made was the crunching of the snow underneath the hooves of the horses.
But then he heard it. Something faint. He listened closer and the noise grew louder, it was…laughing. A low laugh coming from in front of them. Vitus looked up and the road was making a corner turn, a large mound obscured the road behind the corner. As the Auxilia got closer to the corner, the laughter became more distinct.
Vitus alerted the others, "Do you all hear the laughter?"
They listened for a moment. Oroles said, "I do, it originates behind the mound ahead."
"We must be prepared for whatever exists behind that mound," Ligadis added.
Vitus gave the order for the Auxilia to draw their swords and to creep slowly on their horses to not alert whoever was behind the corner. Proculus drew his sword, eager to finally use his sword once more and actually attain his first kill and at the same time; fearful of what might arise when they took the corner.
The brothers, Cassius, Oroles, and Ardunas ventured forth around the corner and came to the sight of five men lounging around in the snow with their horses tied to a tree. The five men were all blond and wore thick blue and white coats and had blue trousers. They also had swords on their belts and spears leaning against the trees. They sat in the snow, apparently telling jokes and drinking mead, oblivious to the Auxilia's arrival.
The officers of the Auxilia spotted a sixth man with his back towards them, as he was urinating against a tree. The man turned around from the tree, showing his exquisite identity. The man was in battle armor, his torso coated in grey steel that reflected off the sun, he had a long blue cape which flowed down his back; he also possessed a gray helmet topped with a long blue plume. The rest of his garments were dyed in blue plaid. The man himself was tall, standing well above six feet and had bright blond hair and a thick handlebar mustache and beard.
The Romans recognized the armor was the exact make of Cunovindus', the armor which belongs to barbarian kings. The blue and white tinted armor revealed such precious information to them.
"That armor!" Cassius announced, pointing towards the man, "He…He is the Brittonic King, that is Lugotorix!"
"Inconceivable," Vitus said, "Those colors…it truly is him!"
Hearing the commotion, Lugotorix raised his head and witnessed the horsemen on the road wearing Roman armor, particularly the two in the middle who wore the helmets of generals. Lugotorix was frozen in place from the mere shock of seeing them, as were the Auxilia from randomly finding the Brittonic King taking a piss; each party in a silent ocular standoff to see who would make the first move in this surprising turn of events.
"Romans!" Lugotorix suddenly announced to his men in their barbarian tongue, "The Romans are upon us! To arms! To arms!"
Four of the five Britons sprang to their feet, seizing their swords and spears and charged at the Julius brothers, while Lugotorix scrambled to his horse with the help of a fifth Briton warrior. One of the Britons cocked his arm back and casted his spear at Vitus, but Vitus saw the deadly projectile and dodged it.
"Ligadis, bring up the rest of the men! Auxilia, rally on me!" Vitus spurred his men, charging forth on his mighty stallion with Oroles following close by.
A Briton brought his javelin back and aimed it towards the charging Roman. But before the chance arrived to deliver a decisive kill, Ardunas spotted the barbarian and pulled out his composite bow and notched his arrow. The archer allowed his arrow to fly from his bowstring straight at the spearman, cutting him down as the arrow crashed through the man's forehead.
Two Brittonic swordsmen came charging forth at the cavalry, but Vitus and Oroles, side-by-side, galloped toward them. Vitus gripped his sword tightly and spurred Romulus faster; he leaned to his right to angle himself with the charging Briton. Once he was close, Vitus voiced a mighty shout and chopped with his sword overhead of the Briton, fatally severing the Briton's neck. Oroles, with the stronger arm and sheer momentum, brought his sword along the other barbarian's neck and decapitated the Briton with one neat swing.
The fourth barbarian stood his ground to brace against the incoming charge, but a random Thracian with the truest aim, flung his pilum and gored the barbarian through his chest.
As the men of the Auxilia galloped forth, the fifth and lone Brition helped Lugotorix to his horse and ushered with concern, "Make haste, my king! You must not fall to the clutches of Rome! Flee!"
"I shall. Woden be with you!" The king told his loyal warrior. Lugotorix took a quick glance at the seemingly endless number of horsemen charging at him before whipping the reins of his horse and galloping away. But little did the king know that an archer had already locked him in his sights.
Ardunas had tenderly placed his arrow on the bowstring and pulled it back to its apex. Though the distance of the fleeing king was far, the archer's line of sight was perfect and he was confident that the shot would hit. Ardunas' fingers began to loosen, his thoughts set on slaying the king, but then Cassius extended his arm out and halted his shot. "You fool! Do not release your arrow! We cannot kill him!"
"For what purpose must he remain alive?" Ardunas countered loudly.
"Think, Ardunas. Use your mind. A king has more value alive than dead, especially if we can gain knowledge from him about his army and Samarobriva!"
"Cassius is right," Proculus acknowledged, he turned to everyone and shouted, "Seize Lugotorix, we need him alive!" Ardunas grunted and lowered his aim, but quickly raised it once more as he spotted the barbarian that assisted the king onto his horse. He released the deadly missile from his callused fingers and watched it soar into the lone warrior's throat, the arrowhead exiting the back of his neck.
Lugotorix heard the bloody gurgle of his last warrior and turned his head in time to see him fall. The lone king stirred his horse harder, determined to survive this surprise attack. The Auxilia went into a full gallop, following the narrow road to desperately catch the barbarian king.
Lugotorix's heart was racing. He could hear the hundreds of hooves trampling the snow behind him, the cursing of Latin tongues, and the sting of the icy wind on his face as he galloped forward. He felt as if he was a boar being hunted down by voracious savages. But he still held strength in his heart, knowing his stallion was one of the fastest horses alive.
The distance between Lugotorix and the Auxilia began to widen as the Briton's horse went into its top speed during its magnificent stride. But with fire in their eyes, the Julius brothers whipped the reins of their mighty Spanish stallions, urging them to gallop faster. The strong pair of Andalusian horses conceded to their masters' whims and began outrunning the rest of the Auxilia's horses to the point where a considerable gap was made between the brothers and the Auxilia, yet Lugotorix was still a good distance away.
Since Romulus was the bigger horse than Remus, and also held the lighter rider, Romulus began outrunning his brother and was closing in on the Briton king, with Vitus cheering on his faithful stallion.
"Faster, Romulus! We are gaining on him. We can capture him! Ride, Romulus. Ride!"
The heart of the mighty mount began to accelerate. Romulus picked up tremendous speed and within a few moments, closed in on Lugotorix who was only a meter away. The king heard the fierce trampling and turned with surprise, able to see the dual-colored eyes of the young Roman pursuing him.
The Briton drew his sword and swung at Vitus, yet the nimble Roman evaded the blade. Lugotorix brought his sword back at Vitus for another attack, but Vitus brought his sword up and blocked it. And so both men raced on the narrow snow-filled road, side-by-side, as they exchanged sword blows with Vitus being on the defensive in fear of wounding the king.
The helpless elder brother called out to Vitus to pull back to safety, but his shouts were lost in the din of combat between Vitus and Lugotorix. Oroles sped up to Proculus and shouted, "We cannot prolong this chase! We need to stop him now!"
"Allow me to stop him!" Ardunas spoke up, "I shall not miss, I can only wound him!"
But Cassius made his voice heard, "No! Proculus we cannot risk it, his value to your father is too high to risk unnecessary wound. We just need to catch him!"
Proculus grunted and gnashed his teeth. Lugotorix had a handicap. If Vitus continued to be on the defensive, his brother's chances of being wounded or worse increased.
While still engaging with Vitus, Lugotorix spotted down the road a sharp left turn which led deeper into the woods. The turn was abrupt and the opening into the dense woods was small, but a rider could enter if he was skilled enough.
After fending off the young Roman, Lugotorix made the sharp left turn into the woods, shaking off Vitus and the rest of the Auxilia. Vitus stopped his horse and followed Lugotorix into the dense woods, determined to not allow him to escape.
Proculus gasped after seeing the two men vanish into the woods. "They have escaped into the woods! We must follow!"
"I am not sure of this," Oroles quickly warned, "If we go off-road, then these woods drastically cut our mobility and formation and can—"
"We cannot lose the Brittonic king!" Cassius said.
"I agree," Ligadis said, "He has seen us, we need to seize him now before he alerts his army!"
Oroles turned to Proculus, "Proculus, if we enter these dense woods, we will not catch the king. If we send a group to flank him, we may lose contact with them."
"It matters not! We need to help my brother! Ardunas, when you have a shot, shoot the horse under him!"
"Understood, Commander."
Cassius began to object, "But Proculus, that may harm the king, please reconside—"
"I do not care! We must make haste! Auxilia, rally on me!" Proculus waved his sword in the air and led the Auxilia off the trail and into the wooded area.
As the Auxilia advanced deeper into the woods, the trees grew larger and were more clustered together. With the horses running at full speed, the rider had to have excellent reaction time to weave between the trees and still retain the speed. But as the riders reached further in the road, Proculus could hear the shouts of the Auxilia behind him, shouts of concern and fear of losing contact with one another.
"Stay together! Stay together!"
"Laphisus, do not stray from us!"
"I cannot see ahead, the forestry is too thick!"
"Slow down, my horse cannot keep up."
Proculus grunted loudly, the chase had to end. He could see through the trees in the distance ahead, two silhouettes racing with one another and could distinguish that Vitus was the one in the back. The elder brother turned to Ardunas and asked him if he had a shot. Ardunas shouted back that he could make it.
Ardunas kicked his horse harder to get as close as possible to Lugotorix, yet the veil of trees and distance made it near impossible to close in on Lugotorix. So he grabbed his bow and took precious aim at Lugotorix. The shot was difficult but not impossible. The king was about 50 meters away, but a plethora of trees separated the two men, and their horses were travelling at great speeds.
But the skilled Ardunas made his calculations and looked further down the woods and saw an open area devoid of trees. The Gallic archer turned his bow towards the open area and fired, calculating that at the speed Lugotorix was traveling, his horse would end up running into the loosed arrow. And he was right.
His arrow, as if guided by an invisible hand, soared with grace past the trees and entered the neck of Lugotorix's horse. The sudden impact of the arrow sent the horse into a frenzy. It began to buck wildly and even collapsed in the snow, sending the Briton king flying in the air and landing on the soft snow. The horse rose to its hooves and ran away, leaving Lugotorix, who was unhurt from the fall, to scramble to his feet.
He ran towards a massive tree that was in front of him, he dare not look back. He could hear the inevitable chorus of hooves trampling through the soft snow behind him. He just had to get to the tree. And when he did, he stood up straight and cleared his throat; he turned around and saw that he was completely surrounded by the Auxilia.
Proculus and Vitus were staring down at him from their horses, while the other Thracians had their spears pointed at him, whilst Ardunas and his Gauls had their arrows trained on the king. He wasn't going anywhere.
Proculus cheered, "Ardunas, you magnificent Gaul! That shot was immaculate!"
"Gratitude for the praise, Commander." Ardunas replied, aiming his arrow between the king's eyes, "Give me the order and I shall end this man's life."
"Hold for the moment." Proculus turned towards his brother, "Are you harmed?"
"I am not, his sword was fierce but I endured," Vitus couldn't help but feel proud, "It lifts heart that I was able to keep track of him."
"Give headcount!" Oroles blurted out, apprehension covering his face as he noticed the lack of 100 Thracians present.
"Captain, I give count of 87 riders."
"As do I, Captain."
"What happened to them?" Oroles asked.
"Do not fall prey to concern, Oroles. It is only 13 men, they might have been scattered in the chase, they shall show up soon," Proculus reassured. "But now, turn attention to more pressing matters."
Lugotorix began to tremble and raised his hands high in the air, his eyes were fearful as a child. He kept backing up until his back was against the massive fir tree. And in broken Latin, the king muttered, "Pardon me…no make dead…no make dead!"
The brothers glanced at one another, Proculus was the first to remark with a grin, "He threatens to piss himself like a child," his grin turned to a laugh, "We did it brother, we captured a king and made him piss himself!"
Vitus was more serious, "At least he can speak Common Tongue…sort of. First, to be sure," the young Roman turned to the cowering king and spoke slowly, "Are you Lugotorix the Bloody-handed? The King of the Britons?"
Lugotorix nodded sheepishly, "That I am…I Lugotorix, King of Britons, Chieftain of Iceni…Please no harm me."
"Only if you do not comply."
Oroles' eyes darted all across the forest for signs of his lost men. He wanted to send men off to look for them, but fear they may become lost themselves. But as his eyes scanned the forest, he noticed several broken branches littering the snow underneath the large trees that loomed over the Auxilia.
Lugotorix began to stammer, "Your armor bears… meaning to eyes of me…Legion of the Twenty-Eighth." His eyes lingered on Proculus, "Does such make you…Lucius Julius…the Mighty?"
Proculus raised his head high, remembering to stay on his horse to display his dominance to the defeated king. "No, I am his eldest son, Proculus Julius. And this is my younger brother, Vitus."
The eyes of Lugotorix widened at the answer. His craven face suddenly twisted into a prideful mask. His sullen frown turned into an arrogant smirk. His fearful eyes turned fierce. He straightened his posture and became completely composed. And in fluent Latin, Lugotorix spoke smugly, "Oh, you two are Lucius' sons? This is quite the unexpected surprise for me."
The confident faces of the Auxilia shrank away. Proculus and Vitus eyed each other, not expecting this complete 180 switch of the king. Oroles grabbed his reins tightly, for some reason; Lugotorix's fluid tranquility raised the hairs on the back of his neck. The Thracian discreetly warned Ligadis, "Get close to Proculus, I shall get closer to Vitus."
Proculus forced a chuckle, trying to stay in control, "Look how the barbarian king ushers false courage. You are a captured animal; the only surprise of note is that you were captured by us."
Lugotorix's grin remained strong, "Such hubris, and do you Romans wonder why the world wishes to see you dead? Yet I admit I find it humorous, that I indeed fall prey to the two festering diseases that sprung from Lucius' "noble loins"."
"You Brittonic shit! How dare—"
"Brother!" Vitus said before whispering to him, "Do not allow him to rile you." Vitus turned to the haughty Briton, "For what purpose are you here in these woods instead of…instead…"
The Briton began picking his teeth with his fingers, "Instead of Samarobriva? Standing around in the snow watching Romans starve is not particularly entertaining, so I chose to take a stroll in this luscious white land that reminds me of my island. I only sought to explore the rightful land that once belonged to my ancestors, before the Gauls and Germanians stole it."
"That was a century ago, Lugotorix," Proculus hissed.
"But did not the great Hannibal win at Cannae in the Second Punic War? But you Romans would destroy Carthage a century later in the Third War out of vengeance. My point is, men do not forget insults. Nor forgive anyone who remains an obstacle."
"Enough of this. Liberus, Totan, bind this man's hands." Vitus ordered.
The Thracians jumped off their horses and began to approach Lugotorix from behind. Oroles looked on with unease, his eyes suddenly falling towards the snow beneath his horse. He saw several footprints ingrained in the soft snow which did not belong to Lugotorix.
Before the king was bounded, Proculus snickered, "Now the Great Stag of the Britons shall take a stroll with us."
Lugotorix laughed as his sword was thrown away and his hands were being forced behind his back, "Do not mock what you fail to understand, boy. Do you know why we adopt the stag as our sigil? It is strong, majestic, and it is prized above all else as the object of the hunter's eye. We are strong and swift, and yet are always targeted by others who are jealous of our grace. Yes, the stag is often viewed as prey, but yet it entraps predators such as wolves who seek to devour it. The stag attracts all it sees with its grace, and can even lure the wolf away."
Then, some foreign fear crawled up Vitus' spine, as if a phantom being whispered to him the true dangers of this barbarian king. Yet Proculus continued, "You deem us as gullible wolves?" he asked with a tinge of amusement.
Lugotorix exhumed a sinister grin that could crumble stone, "You two? No. You two are the pups, which bait the alpha male from its den." Lugotorix raised his head high, and shouted in his barbarian tongue, "Woden be with us!"
A soft bulk of snow, as when a branch is too burden by the weight of the soft ice, descended from above and pelted Oroles shoulder. The Thracian examined his shoulder then looked up towards the massive trees over him. He examined the large, thick branches that sprung from the trees, creating a large weaving net of branches which blotted the sun.
He saw something stir among the branches on high. It was too big to be animal. He could make out several figures moving in the trees, before his eyes settled on the distinct form of an archer perched precariously on the branch, his deadly arrow aiming at Vitus. Beside the archer was a dozen more, all pointing arrows at individual Thracians, and one pointed at Proculus.
Oroles snapped to Ligadis and only had time to shout, "Ligadis!" Oroles dived off his horse, tackling Vitus off the Roman's horse and into the snow. The quick-witted Ligadis followed suit, jumping off his horse and tackling Proculus towards the snow.
As the brothers hit the snow, arrows came down and pelted the saddles of their horses, startling their prized stallions to flee, yet they remained unharmed. Vitus looked on in shock. If Oroles had stalled for even a second, he and his brother would be for the afterlife. Speechless, the brothers gazed at Lugotorix, who met their eyes and began to laugh maliciously.
"Ambush!" Oroles cried out. Yet his cry came too late.
Scores of arrows rained from the towering trees, piercing the flesh and armor of tens of Thracians at once. Most of the Thracians fell screaming, caught completely unware from the sudden torrent of deadly missiles. Arrows fell near Oroles and Vitus who were lying prone in the snow. The Thracian mentor wrapped his body around Vitus' and rolled in the snow, narrowly avoiding the arrows that followed them until the two rolled behind a large, fallen tree. Ligadis did the same, scrambling to his feet and dragging Proculus behind a large stump.
The sudden spur of events and the quickening chorus of scream; gripped the nerves of Proculus in a frozen embrace. He began to lightly tremble and his vision began to blur as his mind recalled the twisted forms and broken bodies of the casualties he saw on Praxus Hill.
"What is happening?" he asked himself. "By the Gods, what is happening! By the Gods!"
Ligadis grabbed him by the shoulder and shook him, "Compose yourself, Commander!" Ligadis screamed in his face. "You and your brother lead us! Regain your sanity!"
As he hid behind the fallen tree watching Ligadis shake Proculus, Vitus remembered how he himself froze up in the beginning of the skirmish with the Germanians at Praxus Hill, and how he vowed to do better. Now was the chance to put his promise into action.
Vitus raised his head above the tree and ordered his men, "Off your horses! Find cover! Find cover!"
Ardunas watched helplessly, as a barbarian arrow entered his comrade's skull, killing him instantly. Ardunas and the rest of his archers jumped from their horses and found cover behind some trees. "They fire from the trees! Ardunas, fire back!" Vitus shouted.
The Gallic archers raised their bows with righteous anger and fired with precious aim at the snipers perched in the trees. The steel-tipped arrows entered the unarmored barbarians with fatal efficiency, sending their bodies plummeting to the snow, shattering bones and rupturing organs for those who survived the arrows.
Proculus began to recover from his initial shock. He slowly rose to his feet and scanned the chaos. "Where is Cassius?" he asked Ligadis.
"I see him, he is still on top of his horse but he covers himself and the horse behind a tree!"
"Good…wait…Fuck! What about Lugotorix?!"
Both men turned to where Lugotorix's original position was. The Brittonic king did not move an inch. The two Thracians were behind him, their heads shifting from side-to-side trying to decipher the pandemonium that surrounded them. In such confusion, they had failed to properly bind his hands, leading Lugotorix to draw a dagger that was hidden delicately in his sleeve.
Lugotorix slammed his helmeted head back, shattering the first Thracian's nose. As the Thracian reeled back, Lugotorix spun around and slit the man's throat with surgical effectiveness. He turned to the second Thracian, stabbing him several times in the throat before sending his dagger through the Thracian's eye.
Proculus called for Lugotorix's head, ordering all soldiers to focus on him. At the moment where the Gallic archers trained their arrows on him, a terrible war cry emanated from around the woods and even from within the Auxilia's perimeter. Vitus heard a cry come from behind him and Oroles, about ten meters away. A barbarian warrior, draped in thick animal furs, came out of the snow behind Vitus, bellowing his tribal cry as he stood to his feet and charging at Vitus. All around the Thracian Auxilia, 80 barbarians rose from underneath the thick blanket of snow like the undead, all coated in animal pelts. From the outskirts of the woods came 50 more screaming warriors rushing in.
The warrior came at Vitus with a two-handed iron broad-axe and sent it down on top of the young Roman. But the agile Vitus rolled out of the attack, and sliced the tendons of the barbarian's knee with his sword, sending him to his knees. Vitus rose and drove his sword through the warrior's neck.
Two more barbarians came at him, but Oroles stood in front of him, armed with his Gladius and shield. The Thracian blocked both incoming attacks in unison, then seizing on an opening, delivered a perfect horizontal slash that slit both warriors' throats at once.
"Fall to formation! Fall to formation!" Oroles shouted, "Orbem Formate! Do not scatter, be as one! Vitus, we must fall back into formation."
Vitus nodded, rushing back to the rest of the Thracians. The Auxilia had left their horses and formed up in a large circle formation, with a large opening in the middle of the circle for the Gallic archers. As the circle was forming, Vitus noticed that both Proculus and Ligadis were still separated from the rest of the men and were at risk of being surrounded. Vitus called for them, but they did not hear.
Ligadis gored several incoming barbarians with his pilum, choosing to use it as a spear. A strong barbarian with a large sword dashed towards him and lunge his blade. With sharp dexterity, Ligadis parried the attack with the pilum before running the barbarian through in the stomach. Two more pelted savages came at him, but Ligadis slammed the rim of his shield into the chest of one of the brutes, breaking ribs and collapsing a lung. In the same motion, Ligadis drew his arm back and slammed the shield into the second barbarian's knee, flipping him into the snow. Ligadis stood tall over him and sent his pilum crashing through his ribcage and piercing his savage heart.
Proculus witnessed a barbarian swordsman sprinting towards Ligadis' backside, his sword raised high to slay the Thracian. Without hesitation, Proculus sprung up and sliced off the barbarian's sword-hand at the wrist. As he recoiled back in pain, Proculus stepped forwarded and sliced his neck open, watching as the blood began to spurt in the air, some landing on the Roman's face. The elder brother's eyes lagged on the bleeding body, astounded that this man was his first kill.
Suddenly, a warrior popped up in front of Proculus with his blade halfway out towards' the Roman's neck. But Vitus came to his brother's aid, blocking the barbarian blade with his own, before thrusting his sword into the barbarian's stomach.
"Brother! You saved me!" Proculus remarked.
"Forget about it! Fall back, damn it!" Vitus ordered, pulling on his brother's arm back to the rest of Auxilia. "You two are exposed out here!" Proculus looked behind and could see the impending horde of barbarians chasing him.
Cassius came by on his horse and stopped between the brothers. "Proculus, Vitus; there are too many! We cannot do this alone!"
"Tell me something which is not obvious!" Vitus snapped.
"Allow me to seek help from your father! He would come with the 28th at his side!"
Both brothers looked at each other. The horses had scattered, they already lost about 20 men, and they were about to be surround by a force double their size. They could not break out of the collapsing perimeter with their numbers, but a lone rider could be swift enough to escape the entrapment. They knew what had to be done.
Proculus said to his loyal bodyguard, "Do it! Seek out my father! Tell him we require the legion, or we shall fall! Ride, Cassius!"
Cassius spurred his horse, "I shall! I shall not fail, Proculus!"
The bodyguard galloped with great speed towards the opening where they came, though several barbarians stood in his path. They threw spears at him, launched arrows, and even threw axes and swords to stop the lone rider. But the graces of the gods were on Cassius' side, and he evaded the weapons and crashed through the barbarians and escaped from the ambush, his destination: the Twenty-Eighth Legion.
The barbarian horde had massed together and formed a neat circle around the Auxilia's circle and charged forth with deadly intent. The Auxilia was now surrounded.
"Pila, at the ready!" Vitus ordered. The Thracians leveled their pila at incoming tide of barbarians. "Archers, take out the missile men above us!" The Gallic archers kept up a steady stream of fire against the barbarians who hid in the trees.
Vitus detected his brother beside him, seemingly jumping in place, his eyes widen in anxious fear, yet his heart was eager to fight.
"Brother, do you stand with me?" Vitus asked, his eyes heavy with concern, seeking a kindred companion in this fight that may be their last.
"Now and forever, brother." Proculus smiled. Vitus returned the smile. He spun around examining any cracks in the orb defense, but his eyes fell upon a most disturbing sight.
"Brother…where is Lugotorix?"
Proculus looked around, but his only reply was the simple, "Shit…" for Lugotorix was long gone.
Lugotorix walked away from the ambush completely unscathed, praising Woden that such an audacious plan actually worked. As he walked away from the ambush, several dozens of barbarians ran past him, all eager to slay those who claim Rome as bastion. He looked over his shoulder at them, simply chuckling at the sight of the impetuous lot. Biua of the Cherusci walked out from behind a tree, pulling on the reins of Lugotorix's prized stallion.
"You are yet of this world of the living," Biua said.
"You sound surprised," he replied with a smile.
"It seems I am. I did not expect such mad schemes from your mind to bear fruit."
"I cannot take all the credit, the great God, Woden, favored me, now we shall see if he continues to shower his fortunes for today."
"I hope you are right in such assumptions…for my warriors are—"
"Fulfilling their part," he said with confidence. "I could not have launched the ambush without your Cherusci warriors lying in wait."
"Anyway, we have removed the arrow from your horses' neck, the wound is not fatal, but do not exert him."
"Gratitude, Biua," he said, petting his horse. "Know that as a proper reward, the two men you seek are caught in the ambush."
Her eyes widen, "Are you sure?"
Lugotorix glanced at her with a tooth-filled smirk, "Indeed. Young Vitus was there with his bizarre colored eyes, along with his arrogant ass of a brother, Proculus."
She nodded silently, her fist clenching in anticipation of meeting the men who wronged her and her tribe. Lugotorix walked behind her and whispered to her softly, "Like I have told you, I have honored my word and delivered the Julius brothers into your hands. Now honor your father and avenge his death."
"I shall."
"I also recommend you send in your reserve. These were the men who defended against an onslaught of a thousand. They shall not fall easily."
Biua drew her sword and glared at the King of the Britons, "Do not hold concern for me for I shall lead my people to vengeance. You must hold focus in dealing with that fucking Lucius!" Biua turned away from him and slowly walked to the ambush sight, with righteous retribution the sole objective in her mind.
Lugotorix mounted his horse and said to himself, "Do not fret, for step two in hunting the wolf is complete. Now, we move to step three."
The Roman Camp
Lucius and Antonius were roaming throughout the dissembling camp, ensuring everything was falling into place. Lucius received reports from several of his ancillaries: the baggage train filled with supplies was almost ready to move out yet one of the oxen had split a hoof and had to be treated before moving out, extending the time to departure 20 minutes later. Several slaves had succumbed to frostbite and were immobilized, but since they were slaves, Lucius' mind turned to matters of more concern. A drunken legionary was caught the other night sleeping at his post and was being flogged for a full hour. Lucius sighed at these reports in slight irritation; it was always something that came up in this legion of his that required his concern.
Lucius' eyes landed on Cossutius, who was preoccupied with barking orders at the legionaries to fall into a marching column. Lucius approached him and spoke with casualness, "Cossutius, my friend, how are you this morning?"
The Primus Pilus snapped to attention and saluted, "I am fine, General. Gratitude for asking, General."
"Damn it, man. Enough with the formalities, you are to be a Julii soon," Antonius remarked with an honest chuckle.
"Apologies, Captain. But I must, it looks bad to the men and shows lack of discipline."
Lucius made a quick laugh, "A soldier through and through. Tell me, Cossutius, how is the organizing of cohorts coming?"
"We are soon to be finished, General, give us 10 minutes. The 1st – 5th Cohorts are already mobilized and lined up, as are the remainder of the Thracian Auxilia. Yet the 6th – 8th are coming to formation now, and the 9th and 10th are lagging, I shall speak to their centurions about their sluggishness."
"Damn recruits," Antonius chastised, "They need to be aware that they must move with purpose."
"I agree as well," Lucius said, "But fortunate for them, an error has allowed them to lag a little. Cossutius, an ox from the baggage train had split his hoof earlier, setting the legion back 20 minutes. I shall not have my men shivering in their armor while they wait, keep them moving and keep them warm."
"Understood, General."
A messenger approached Lucius and saluted, "General, our sentries spotted a lone rider heading to the northern gate."
"From the north? What is the identity of this rider?"
"We do not know, he is too far a distance to decipher, but he approaches now. With permission, please come along with me to the gate." The three men followed the messenger back to the gate.
Lucius asked the sentry on top of the wall about the rider, to which the sentry replied, "General, I cannot decipher him, but he is racing here at tremendous spe…take pause…I believe he is one of ours."
"Must be a runner that Vitus and Proculus sent back," Antonius remarked.
The sentry strained his eyes, "The rider…it appears to be Commander Julius' bodyguard."
"Cassius, for what purpose does he ride back?" Lucius asked himself.
"He appears to be shouting something, it is not clear," the sentry announced.
"…the ate…ope…the ate!" Cassius' cries echoed incoherently, but as he galloped closer, his cries became more clear, "…the gate! Open the gate! Open the fucking gate! Hurry, it is an emergency!"
Lucius quickly ordered the gate to be opened and he greeted Cassius upon entry. The first thing that the grizzled Roman general's eyes fell upon was fresh blood coated on Cassius and his horse.
"Cassius, what is this?! Whose blood is this? Why are you not by Proculus? What of him? What of Vitus? Break words, what happened?!" Lucius demanded.
"General, it was horrible!" Cassius gasped. "An ambush, a fucking ambush! It was the Britons! The whole damn lot of them!"
"The Britons? Are you sure of what you seen?" Antonius asked.
"I am! We discovered the Brittonic King, Lugotorix, lurking in the forest and we gave chase! Yet he caught us in a most deceptive ambush!"
Cassius' panicked mumblings soon spread among the legionaries close to him, they began filling the air with gossip of Brittonic forces. Lucius turned to the gossiping soldiers and in a dreaded voice told them, "All of you, fall silent!" And they did so. Lucius turned back to Cassius, anxiety coating his face, "What of my sons? Do they yet live? Why are you not by Proculus' side?! What the fuck happened?!"
"Your sons still live, yet I fear for the moment. Proculus sent me back with word of the ambush, he desperately request support from the legion or they shall be overtaken!"
"Find the correct words, how many of the Britons were there?" Cossutius astutely asked.
"Thousands of them!" Cassius screamed. "They were everywhere! They enveloped us and slain many of our warriors! Lugotorix brought his entire army upon us; I believe he knew they were your sons. Your sons still fight on, but if they are to survive, we need the 28th Legion! If we move with haste, we can reach them in less than 10 minutes."
Lucius recoiled back and sharply inhaled air, his hands skimming through his thinning hair. Antonius and Cossutius eyed one another, for the first time, they could see Lucius' mind racing everywhere at once. He began pacing back and forth, stammering repeatedly at the orders he was trying to form.
"Cossutius!" Lucius finally howled. "Assemble the legion now! We are leaving immediately!"
"But General, the camp is not yet deconstructed, it shall take—"
"I shall not stand idle while my sons' lives dangle by fraying thread!" he snapped. "Fall to fucking command and do it! Mobilize everybody, we leave now!"
"General," Cassius spoke up, "I know which way to take and I only require a fresh horse and I shall lead you to your sons."
"Very well, procure a horse and get ready immediately! Antonius, send messengers to every legionary to move with haste! We are moving out!"
"But what about our supplies and baggage train, they are not yet—"
"I do not care! Tell every man to drop their supplies, weapons and armor is all we need!" Lucius walked around camp screaming at every man he saw to move with the utmost haste, leaving his Tribune and Primus Pilus looking on.
"Come, Cossutius, we must hurry!" Antonius reminded him.
"I understand, but…I never seen the General like this."
"These are his sons; of course any parent would be gripped with dreaded concern."
"I understand. Know that I am no coward, Antonius, but we cannot rush into this without a plan. The brothers and the Thracians survived against a thousand warriors before."
"Except now they hold a third of their original number of 300. The greatest problem that I can see is if they are captured."
"By what do you mean?"
The two men rushed along, ordering every legionary to prepare to march, Antonius informed Cossutius as they did so. "You must think about this, Cossutius, what shall happen if both Vitus and Proculus are captured, Gods forbid."
"Obviously, they are now hostages to the Britons and may be prone to sacrilegious tortures."
"Indeed they would, I hold fear for their safety, but what I truly fear is what knowledge they might disclose under torture."
"What knowledge?"
"What keeps the barbarians from launching a full invasion in the south? Knowledge of Rome's swift counterattack from her fierce legions that guard the borders. Such is why they conduct raids on Roman lands to test our defenses. The Julii controls the North yet they only possess several small garrisons in the North, the 28th Legion is the only actively mobilized legion in the North. The rest are spread throughout the lands in Hispania and Italia. If the barbarians become aware of how lightly defended the northern territories of Rome are—"
Cossutius finished the thought, the realization was cold and shattering, "They shall trample over everything and everyone for a thousand miles, until a sizeable legion can be mustered to stop them."
Antonius shuddered at the thought, "Exactly. We must pray that Proculus and Vitus elude capture…I do not believe that General Lucius thought that far, his primary concern is in the safety of his sons; yet the problem still stands that if they are captured, the Republic shall be in terrible danger."
"Antonius! Cossutius!" Lucius shouted at them as he fixed his helmet, "Why do you two linger?! Move with purpose and organize everyone!"
After five minutes of frenzied-filled organization, the Legion was finally organized into its marching column formation. Most of the men had little to no clue why they were being rushed and rumors slowly passed among the ranks that an ambush occurred which involved the Britons. Most of the men who heard these words brushed it off as idle gossip, but when they saw their great general screaming at the men with a sense of urgency, they slowly began to accept the rumors as fact.
The baggage trains were left in the camp, along with the sleeping packs of the legionaries, and the slaves. The camp itself was in shambles from the sudden abandonment of disassembly; all things that did not pertain to battle were left in the camp.
Lucius had sent the remainder of the reserve Thracian Auxilia down the road to find his sons, all against Cassius' request for the entire legion to follow him. Lucius desired to personally follow the Auxilia himself, yet was talked out of it by his men for fear of capture by the sheer numbers of the Britons. Lucius was at the very front of his legion, eager to outrun Apollo himself if it meant reaching his sons. Beside Lucius were Antonius on his left and Cassius on his right, staring unsurely at their haggard leader.
Lucius shouted to the legion, "Listen up! Our men are in dire trouble, we must be swifter than Mercury if we desire to save them. Every man must sprint, no man shall lag or he will be flogged! Do you understand? Double time it! Let's go! Let's go!"
Before the horns even sounded the order to march, Lucius had already darted out of the camp. The rest of the Legion ran forward at considerable speed, all minds wondering what they shall face in this frozen wilderness.
Ten minutes had evaporated, and the Legion was still sprinting through the snow. The men were used to running in full armor and were expertly conditioned, yet the extra motion of picking one's feet up from the snow that rose past the ankle drained extra amounts of energy from the legionaries. By the time that the men of the legion reached the fork in the road, they were already severely winded.
Lucius grunted loudly at the divide in the road, his head twisting from left to right. "Shit! Which way did the reserve Auxilia take?!"
"They most likely split up and took both roads," Antonius said.
"Cassius, which way did you and my sons take?"
"Follow me, General! I shall lead you to your sons! We took this route." Cassius whipped his horse and galloped down the road.
"Twenty-Eighth! Follow Cassius! Head to the left!" Lucius announced.
Down the leftward road the legion descended, still moving in a sprint. The road began to narrow greatly, forcing the Romans into a winding narrow column; with steep hills on both sides of the forest path. As the men went down the road, several of the men, especially Antonius, noticed several fallen trees in the area and blackened marks around the trees and the snow, as if fire was set to them.
The legion continued on through the snow, their lungs were aching with each step. Their initial sprint began to drag through the snow, and many began coughing hard as the ice-filled air burned their throats as they inhaled. But Lucius did not see this, his eyes were focused on the road in front of him, the need to see his children taking precedence over all things, it was not until Antonius stopped him that he saw what was becoming of his legion.
"General, stop at once! Look at your men; do you not see that they are tired? We must rest for a moment if we are to fight the Britons properly."
Lucius stopped at once, finally allowing his horse to breathe as he examined the conditioned of his men as they passed by him. Their sluggishness and dragging of their shields spoke to the general, reminding him that despite being the best soldiers of Rome, they were still human. Yet he could not help but measure the wellbeing of his legion to the lives of his sons.
"I understand, Antonius," Lucius said, he honestly did, "But I cannot allow Proculus and Vitus to fall into the hands of that fucking Lugotorix! We need to continue moving."
"I understand, General, but we must proceed with—"
"Caution?" Cassius said as his horse trotted to Lucius' side. "Was such a word you would have chosen, Antonius? I fear the Britons have taken the choice away from us, the barbarians recognize strength, and thus we must be aggressive."
"Aggressiveness in an unknown situation leads to callousness and callousness leads to doom!" Antonius countered.
"So you would risk the General's sons to be safe? If the Legion won at Praxus Hill, then I believe they can take the Britons." Cassius turned to Lucius and cracked a smile on his bearded face. "Is this not a beautiful sight, General?" Lucius' eyes narrowed at the comment.
"What do you find beautiful about this situation?"
"That though your men are fatigued, they still move with energy because of your orders…to save their Commanders. Such loyalty and honor is seldom seen before."
"What are you getting at?" Antonius asked.
"Apologies, I love to ramble at times like these, I do not know why…a flaw of mine, I presume." Cassius fell silent for a moment before continuing, "The Britons have never been seen for a hundred years, yet the Briton King was able to orchestrate an ambush out of thin air. Such is fascinating, do you not agree? Lugotorix is no fool. If he was able to spring a trap for your sons, then he could easily spring a trap on you. In fact, you just fell into his third step and are now entering his fourth step."
Lucius and Antonius slowly turned their head towards the bodyguard. Lucius spoke, "Wait, what 'fourth step'?"
Cassius smiled, "To cripple the wolf."
With sudden dexterity, Cassius drew his sword from his belt and stabbed Lucius Julius in the side, the blade going deep into his flesh. The Roman general cried out—startling nearly every man in the legion—as the deadly steel ripped into his side.
Cassius pulled his sword out of Lucius, and watched as the Roman fell off his horse clutching his side. At first, Antonius simply watched, the entire action was so quick that Antonius could not even fully registered what had happened, but when Cassius locked eyes with Antonius, the Roman Tribune pulled out his sword and locked blades with Cassius.
"Have you lost your fucking mind, Cassius?!"
"No, it has always been my own and that of my liege, Lugotorix!"
Antonius' jaw fell, his eyes quickly softened. "No, no, that can't…" Suddenly the Tribune's face turned to furious anger, "You stand Briton?!"
Cassius punched Antonius off his horse with his free hand, then turned and ran into the woods on the right, calling back to Antonius, "I do! As you all stand for the afterlife!"
Antonius got to his feet and watched as Cassius galloped away. The fury of the sun was in Antonius' heart, he pointed at the fleeing Cassius, shouting, "Traitor! We have a traitor! Kill him! Kill Cassius!"
The Roman archers lined up their shots to the fleeing man, but Cassius bellowed in his native barbarian tongue, "Step Five!"
The forest surrounding the legion roared, hundreds of savage voices speaking in unison, "Rain steel!"
A storm of arrows and javelins flew from both sides of the woods, descending on the first half column of the legion. Arrows tore through the exposed flesh of the legionaries, piercing their throats and their faces, choking on steel-laced arrowed and gurgling blood in their lungs. The Romans quickly fell into disarray as a great number of legionaries fell to the deadly storm of steel.
Antonius and the wounded Lucius were in the middle of the stretched out column. Antonius saw an arrow enter through the mouth of a Roman rider beside him; he saw how the projectile shattered the man's teeth and exited the back of his skull, just as three more arrows entered his chest.
Antonius turned to the Trumpeters of the Legion and gave the order, "Give order for testudo! Hurry!"
Ba-Ba-Bum, Ba-B—
Several arrows entered the throats of the trumpeters before they finished their melody, and they dropped dead on the spot.
"Captain, what is going on?!" a centurion asked Antonius.
"Form testudo!" he answered back.
As the centurion placed the whistle on his lips to give the command, he too was hit with arrows, as were many of the centurions of the legion who were prepared to give the command.
Most of the inexperienced men began to panic at the sudden onslaught; the men collided with one another to change formation. But the more experienced men such as the First Cohort who were at very front of the column, expertly shifted to testudo without the need for an order. Cossutius raised his shield high with his men; he could feel the hard impacts of the arrows hitting his shield. He cursed to himself that they fell into an ambush and was anxiously waiting for a command to be given to escape this deadly trap. But no command from the trumpeters was given.
Every passing second, a Roman was losing his life; they could not just stand by and allow themselves to die. Cossutius wondered why Lucius was hesitating with a command. This was not their first ambush, but no commands were being given to them to escape. Suddenly, a large oak tree crashed in front of the First Cohort completely blocking the road.
"Cossutius! A tree has fallen in front of us! To what should we do?" a legionary said.
"I-I do not know, we cannot break formation unless ordered!" Cossutius said in frustration.
"Shit, Marvinus has been skewered!" a second legionary said.
"Aruntius has been hit as well!" said a third.
"We have to get out of here!" said a fourth!"
Cossutius gnashed his teeth at the inaction that they had to endure, being pelted on all sides as fear began to surge throughout the men. He broke formation with his shield still raised and shouted, "Aelianus, you take command in my absence!"
"Understood," the mighty legionary said, "But to where do you go?"
"To speak with the General! First Cohort, hold fast!" Cossutius began to dart back down the column, blocking and weaving through the steel-laced air, picking up Cohort Centurions as he went. He finally received word that the General was in the middle of the column along with the Tribune and was all the more eager to understand why orders were not being given.
As he and the centurions reached the middle of the column, they saw him. Lucius was lying in the red snow, groaning and grunting as he was being treated for a vicious sword wound to the side. He was lying in the middle of many legionaries, raising their shields to protect him and the Tribune from missile fire. The centurions stared on as if witnessing death of a parent for the first time.
"Cossutius? Why are you here?" Antonius demanded.
"Wh-What happened to the General?" Cossutius stammered, his eyes locked on Lucius.
"Cossutius! Open your ears damn it! Why are you here and not with the men?"
"A large tree fell in front of the road blocking our path. We cannot advance; we must fall back out of this ambush!" Just then, a centurion near them was skewered in the back by javelin.
"Our trumpeters are dead," Antonius told the centurions, "and they seem to be targeting anyone who uses a whistle, go back to your men and tell them to stay in testudo! We will withdraw back to camp in an orderly testudo column; we cannot allow panic to fill the ranks."
"But what of General Julius?" Centurion Galerius asked.
"Cassius has betrayed us! He wounded the General, but that is neither here nor there. Get back to your men at once! We are withdrawing!"
Meanwhile, the second half of the column that was separated from the first was being led by the Sixth Cohort Commander, Titus Loganus, who was coming up behind the first half of the column. The men of the second column had little to no idea what was happening, no riders were sent and no orders by trumpets were given, all they heard were muffled screaming in the distance.
But before Loganus could send some men to investigate, he received word from the rearguard of the Legion that a massive tree fell behind them, cutting off their way to escape. Loganus sent a runner to inform Lucius of their escape being cutoff, wondering if he should take initiative and investigate the tree collapse.
One of the men abruptly shouted and pointed the sky. A large orange ball was falling from the grey sky and hurtling right at the second half of the column. Loganus ordered his men to take cover, as he himself dived off the road. The orange ball grew in size as it closed in, revealing itself to be a massive fireball, as it slammed into a century of legionaries, exploding with great ferocity.
The men that were hit went flying as the flames engulfed their crushed bodies. Those that were close were caught in the splash of the flames and they too were alight. More fireballs came raining down on the Romans, inciting panic and death. Though many shots from the fireballs missed a general body of the Romans, the exploding flames leapt on their bodies and clung to their flesh and armor with great efficiency; searing their fair flesh into a grotesque pink paste.
Some of the inexperienced men began to look for cover to escapes the flames of death, yet the experienced men stood firm and locked their shields in testudo. Yet they underestimate the sheer power of a fireball being flung. The weight of the massive firebomb itself was enough to penetrate a shield wall and breaking the arms of the men who held the shields, and then the fire would ignite from within the testudo, burning everyone alive.
Loganus returned to his feet and tried his best to organize the second half of the column, ordering them to double-time it to reunite with the first column; yet the entire legion held little energy to move forth or back. After expending their stamina racing to the aid of the Vitus and Proculus, they moved with the grace of a two-legged dog and had trouble raising their arms and moving their legs to block and avoid the missile fire and raining fireballs.
The wounded Lucius finally gained a grasp of his surroundings; he could hear his men screaming all around him, the smell of fire and burnt flesh, the acid yet familiar smell of spilt blood, he felt the bitter burn of the cold surrounding him as he laid in the snow, the men trying to take off his armor so they could treat him, and the barking of Antonius' orders right above him.
"Antonius…" he said weakly, pain shooting up through him every time he breathed.
"General…you are still conscious!" Antonius smiled in relief.
"Where…is that fucking…Cassius?" he sneered through his teeth.
"He escaped and led us into an ambush! Now we have arrows and spears thrown on us, and fire falling from the sky!"
"Wait, fire?" Lucius looked up and saw the fireballs soaring in the air high above them, with some landing in the vicinity of the first column.
Lucius wheezed, "Onagers…the barbarians secured fucking onagers…"
"How did they obtain siege weapons?" Antonius asked himself.
"It matters not!" Lucius coughed violently before trying to stand. "We must escape from this trap!"
Several men pushed Lucius down, "General, do not force yourself, you are fatally wounded! We must strip your armor to save you!"
"There is no time for that! Antonius, we must escape!"
"A tree blocks our path forward and it is so large our men cannot scale it! I have ordered the men to prepare to withdraw back in testudo formation!"
"Good, prepare to prop me on our horse so that we may—"
The runner that Loganus sent made it towards Lucius and Antonius, an arrow sticking out of his shoulder and blood dripping from his skull.
"General! Centurion Loganus sent me to inform you of our escaped route being blocked! A large tree fell behind the road we came in and we cannot cross it!"
"Fuck!" Antonius sneered, "General, how can we escape from this entrapment?"
Lucius thought about it for a quick moment, "We are receiving fire from both sides…we must escape into…the woods and find cover, if I am not mistaken, our map showed an abandoned quarry not too far from the road. It is open ground and we must cross through the woods…to reach it."
"But General, we may become scattered and lose contact with one another!"
"We shall lose the Legion if we stay here!" Lucius grunted in his steely voice. He quickly coughed up a small amount of blood. He turned to the runner, "Order Loganus back here and tell him to head into the forest on the left and keep going unto his column reaches a quarry." The runner saluted and ran back to deliver the message.
"Gods above," Lucius weakly prayed, "Watch over my legion…and especially my sons…"
After Cassius mortally wounded the great Lucius, he had escaped through the wooded hills on his right and passed through thousands of Britons that lied in wait, impetuous to draw Roman blood. He ventured deep enough in the hill where he and the other Britons could see the Legion being pelted by arrow fire, yet where the Romans could not see them. Cassius jumped off his horse and watched as his handiwork played on beautifully.
"There is our man of the hour!" a familiar voice said to him from behind.
Ermanar came behind Cassius and hugged him tightly, laughing as he did so. Ermanar placed a hand on Cassius' shoulder and both men watched the decimation of the Twenty-Eighth Legion.
"Look at what you have accomplished," Ermanar said. "You have done wonders for the Britons, my friend!"
"It is not over yet," Lugotorix said, walking up to the two men. "Moreover…it has just begun."
"Yes, my king, but know that the Twenty-Eighth will not fall so easily," Cassius remarked.
"I am aware." The king looked down the hill and counted about 2,000 Briton warriors hidden in the woods on his side. And on the opposite side of him, across the road, there were 2,000 more Britons hiding as well. All with their swords and axes drawn to deliver death once the signal was given.
Lugotorix ordered the onagers that Ermanar received from the Cherusci to cease fire. At this moment, the fiery shots were growing inaccurate and could endanger his warriors hiding in the trees. Ermanar nodded to a signalman who swung a torch around in the air, 100 meters down the woods, another Briton signalman saw the torch and he himself swung a torch in the air, and this pattern repeated until the Britons who controlled the onagers saw a torch in the distance and ceased fire. The onager crew practiced extensively in the short time they were given to became as proficient as possible using fire rounds, they practiced on the road, calculating the range and effective range of the onager on the road itself, the scorched marks and fallen trees of the woods stood as a testament to their training.
"You stopped the catapults?" Cassius asked.
"They have done their part in breeding chaos amongst the Roman ranks, now it is time to deliver some more." Lugotorix said. "Ermanar, where is the main body of our army, are they in place."
"No, my king. They are close but not in the immediate area, we only have the 4,000 men here. It should be enough to kill that fool Lucius."
"Lucius is no fool," Cassius replied, "His success in battle has proven that. Yet his downfall shall not be his hubris, but his love for his children."
Lugotorix smiled, his blond beard accenting the wickedness of his face, "Such was the only advantage I needed." He walked to his 2,000 warriors and drew his sword and thundered with pride, "Sons of the Iceni! Before you stand the only obstacle between us and our homeland! Give me victory here and I can assure you that your wives and children shall sing songs about your bravery. They shall sing how you great men deposed tyranny on this day to fight for a cause that is most just! Yet we can never reclaim what is ours, if the Great Usurper that is Rome stands in our way! They cast shadow over all they conquer and proclaim themselves as the Glorious Light! But on this day, we shall show them what fearsome monsters emerge from the depths of darkness!"
The Britons roared with the volume of fabled beasts, bearing fangs in search of a delectable meal. Yet Lugotorix was not done, "The first man to seize the head of General Lucius Julius the Mighty, will be personally rewarded with a large of sum of land once Samarobriva is taken! Now my warriors, descended on them with the fury of the Gods, and let the earth beneath you cry for mercy as it drowns in blood!"
Ermanar blew on his tribal horn, and the crazed Britons gave a final shout before swarming out of the woods from both sides of the road and attacked the Roman column. Through the searing pain, Lucius bore witness to the attack. He helplessly watched as thousands of Briton warriors, many of them shirtless or wearing light tunics, wielding swords, hammers, axes, and spears, charged forth at his Legion. His sweet desire to reunite with his lost sons, have now turned to bitter ash.
Yes! This chapter has been a long time coming. I thought up this whole idea a year ago, but did not get close to finishing it as I did today. Also I recommend viewing Ch. 12 "Meeting of the Kings" to fully understand Lugotorix's plan, I wanted to put this in the intro but I felt it would spoil the twists.
And for those of you who are going ask or comment, YES, I did draw inspiration from the Battle of Teutoburg Forest. But we shall see if the end shall truly play out as it did in history.
I would like to thank everyone who is continually reading this fic. I want you all to note that it is keeping me committed to the story. Truly, thank you all!
-Kanuro5