33 The onset
The army marched on. Tristan and Bedivere rode at the head of the column, leading the way as they ascended the winding trail. Suddenly Bedivere raised his hand and the entire army halted behind him. Ahead, barely visible in the light of the torches, lay dark shapes and humps in the snow. They had reached the scene of the lost battle.
Arthur motioned for the scouts to check the perimeter. As soon as Bedivere signaled that all was safe, Arthur grabbed a torch and dismounted. He walked between the bodies and began to check them carefully. Ruccius ordered five infantrymen to do the same.
"There are no survivors, I already checked," Bedivere stated grimly.
Ruccius dismounted and walked to the body of a Roman infantryman. He knelt down and respectfully brushed away some snow to see the man's face. Ruccius stared at the man for almost a minute and when he looked up, his face was grief stricken.
"Here lies a brave man!" Ruccius addressed his men, raising his voice. "He lost his life while protecting the Empire from barbarians. We must honor him."
The men solemnly stared at the body of the unknown infantryman.
"His body will not become fodder for the beasts of carrion that live in these hills!" Ruccius insisted. "Nor will this fate befall his fallen comrades. I need eight volunteers to protect them."
One by one, eight foot soldiers stepped out of the formation and walked to the front.
Balan watched with increasing respect. His father had told him that the Romans did not leave behind their dead. But seeing Ruccius – gruff, barking, hot-headed Ruccius – grieving for the life of an unknown man, seeing eight men willing to risk their lives to protect a number of bodies, made a deep impression on Balan.
"Empty one of the supply wagons. Leave behind what can be spared. Burn all that can be of use to our enemies. Load the rest on the other wagons," Ruccius ordered.
Then he turned to the volunteers.
"Pile the bodies on the wagon. Handle them with respect, but do it fast. The Woads will attempt to reach the Wall and might return along this trail. Follow the trail back towards the Wall, but turn east or west as soon as conditions allow. Seek cover among the trees, but do not stop to hide. Your tracks in the snow will betray your position. With luck the Woads will not pursue you. Their aim is to bring home their plunder in order to feed their families. I doubt that they will follow you. But do not trust them to act as I expect. Make haste!"
Ruccius saluted the eight volunteers, then ordered the rest of the men back in formation.
Near the back of the column small fires burnt by the side of the road.
"Are you done yet?!" Ruccius bellowed, rolling his eyes impatiently. "Hurry up! I have fifty lives to avenge and a winter's supply of food to salvage! Get a move on, or I swear I will whip you myself!"
The knights exchanged glances and bit back grins. Ruccius was his old self again.
They crested the hill and descended into the valley. The dense forest extended far down the southern slope, blocking their view of the storage depot and the road ahead.
Ruccius was agitated. He needed information to determine his strategy and he had none. Where were the Woads? What were they up to? And where was that bloody scout, Geraint? He raised his arm to halt the army and rode to the front to address the scouts.
"Bedivere, climb a tree and tell me what you see. Now!" he bellowed. "Tristan, ride ahead and find the Woads. I want numbers and positions. Be fast man, or by God I will whip you!"
Tristan raised an eyebrow, but refrained from commenting. He simply turned his horse and galloped away.
Bedivere walked among the trees to find one suitable for climbing. Bors and Dagonet flanked him, weapons drawn, to ward off any hidden danger. As soon as he found a tree to his liking, Bedivere handed his torch to Bors. In the blink of an eye he had disappeared up the tree. Balan heard him rustling overhead. A few minutes later the oldest scout came back down.
"Nothing suspicious," he reported. "No glow, no smoke to indicate a fire. No sign of the Woads either. As is to be expected in the dark, with this forest blocking the view."
Ruccius grimaced at the lack of information.
"Fine," he grumbled. "Lead on!"
The army marched on. Before long Tristan came galloping back.
"We are not far from the storage depot. This trail leaves the forest about a mile ahead. From there it is less than half a mile to the north gate of the storage depot, across open fields. The Woads killed the guards and are plundering the granaries as we speak," he panted.
Ruccius' eyes widened. He turned in his saddle and bellowed to the formation, "Hurry up! Run!"
As one the infantrymen increased their pace and jogged down the path. The knights urged their horses to a trot.
"How many Woads?" Ruccius shouted to Tristan.
"About three hundred!" Tristan called back.
Balan felt excited. The battle was about to begin! Hearing that the Woads were down in the valley plundering the storage depot – not hiding among the trees – felt immensely liberating. The dread that had gripped him during the past hour lifted. His hand went to his weapons: Bow, axe, knives, dagger… Touching them felt reassuring. His courage returned and his mind felt miraculously clear.
Balan glanced at Agloval beside him, who grinned back. The older boy banged his fist against his heart and – careful not to make too much noise – called, "Rúúúús!"
Balan felt elated. He laughed and punched the air with his fist.
Agloval chuckled and reached out to ruffle Balan's hair.
"Let's get 'em, Balan!" he smiled encouragingly.
As soon as the army reached the edge of the forest, Geraint came galloping towards them.
"The Woads are leaving the depot with their plunder! Hurry!"
Balan glanced across the open field. In the distance lay the dark silhouette of the storage depot: four large granaries surrounded by a ten-foot high wall. Oddly shaped figures moved on the snow-covered field between the wall and the forest. Woads!
Ruccius rode to the front.
"Cavalry, left and right flank!" he barked. "Get behind their lines and drive them to us!"
The cavalry instantly split up and thundered down the snowy field in two groups, forming a wide circle around the Woads. Behind them trumpets blared signals to direct the infantry onto the field.
Startled by the sudden appearance of the Roman army, the Woads dropped their plunder and ran for the safety and shelter of the storage depot.
The deep, fresh snow on the field hampered horse and man alike. Although the knights rode as fast as they could, they could not prevent that the majority of the Woads reached the north gate of the depot.
Near the gate a brief but fierce battle ensued between the knights and the last remaining Woads outside the depot.
Balan and Galahad fired their arrows from the edge of the fray while the older knights engaged the natives in close combat. A number of Woads attempted to slip away from the melee with their plunder, but the light cavalry boys were on their guard. Most of the fleeing natives fell before they got far, hit by arrows from the Sarmatian boys.
Suddenly hostile arrows whizzed past their ears and struck the snow between the horses and fighting men. One arrow hit Balan's marching pack and another grazed Galahad's shoulder.
Alarmed, the boys looked up. Woad archers were firing from the top of the wall!
All nine light cavalry boys immediately aimed their arrows for the top of the wall, aided by a few of the older knights, but the number of Woad archers was too great.
"Fall back!" Arthur bellowed.
The call was echoed on all sides. The knights turned their horses and galloped back towards the forest to get out of range of the hostile arrows.
Arthur called a halt as soon as they were at a safe distance. Behind them the north gate closed with a dull thud. Balan turned to look. Nothing moved outside the gate. Dark shapes littered the snow in front of the storage depot: deserted plunder and many dead bodies.
Somewhere in the dark a trumpet played the cavalry signal. "To the opposite side! To the south side!" it blared.
"Follow me!" Arthur called.
Balan and Galahad kicked their horses into a gallop
The entire cavalry thundered to the south side of the storage depot – not a moment too soon: A large number of Woads came running out of the south gate, carrying sacks and bulging bags, and made for the forest to the east.
"Don't let them escape! Skirmish!" Arthur bellowed.
This time Arthur kept his men out of range of the native archers on the southern wall of the depot. Under the onslaught of thirty skirmishing knights, who galloped at full speed past the column of fleeing Woads and harassed them with arrows, swords and axes, the Woads were forced to abandon their escape. The survivors hastily retreated behind the south gate of the depot.
The snow was littered with bodies – all of them native. The knights regrouped within view of the south gate – sending a clear message to the natives behind the wall.
A trumpet blared and seventy-two Roman foot soldiers arrived on the south side of the storage depot.
Their unit commander, a centurion, ordered his men to advance on the south gate. Hidden behind their large shields, the infantrymen marched towards the southern wall of the depot until they came within shooting range of the gate. Arrows flew from the wall, but failed to reach the men behind their shields.
The soldiers spread out evenly and stopped at a signal from the centurion. Each of the men dug his shield several inches into the snow and dirt and then took up position behind it, armed with a bow and plenty of arrows.
Balan watched in amazement. By this simple strategy the Romans were able to guard the south gate, while the men themselves were protected from hostile arrows.
The buccina played the cavalry signal. "To the west! To the commander!" it blared.
The thirty knights turned their horses away from the gate and followed Arthur to the west side of the storage depot.
AN: Up next: The siege of the storage depot. Will the Romans be able to take back their winter supplies? How will Balan fare as the battle continues? Stay tuned to find out!