Hosker, G [Sword of Cartimandua 03] Invasion- Caledonia Read Online Free

of hills emerging from the mist. The troopers looked with trepidation at the sinister sacred isle of Mona. As soon as the weary foots soldiers slogged up they were instructed to begin to erect their camp.
    Marcus ordered Quintus and Levius to throw out a picket line to the north. “Gaelwyn!” The grumpy Brigante scout reluctantly arrived at Marcus’ side knowing that, unlike the others he would still have work to do.”
    “Yes sir.”
    “Head down the coast and see if we have any surprises.” The wiry warrior trotted his horse along the beach and Marcus noted with some admiration how he used every morsel of cover he could find.
    Inir’s men were less than half a mile from the picket line when they were halted by Inir. He signalled for them to squat down.  The sun was lowering in the sky and the mountains behind them cast a shadow. Although a young leader Inir was a wise one and he wanted every advantage he could have. Unlike the tribes to the north the Ordovices used dull colours which camouflaged them well against the rocks and sparse vegetation. Inir gestured for the men on the extreme right and left to outflank the picket line which was struggling to keep formation on the rocky hillside. The troopers could smell the food which was being prepared and, whilst they were pleased they did not have to erect the camp, they also resented the fact that they would eat later than their comrades. It was slowly falling to night and they would have a two mile ride to reach the camp. Quintus and Levius were also a little unhappy. Levius had only just been promoted and had taken over the turma of Modius. They were already a truculent troop and Levius had found it hard to garner any trust. Quintus’ troop was much more experienced but they too were eager to return to camp.
    The first they knew of the presence of an enemy was when a flurry of arrows descended from the dark. Levius just did not react as his men were plucked from their saddles; Quintus’ experience stood him in good stead and he yelled at the nearest trooper,” Get to the camp, tell them we are under attack. Troopers form ranks!” Levius’ men obeyed the commanding voice as a war axe flew threw the air and hit the unfortunate decurion in the chest. It was a chaotic scene as thousands of tribesmen poured down from the hillsides intent on slaughtering as many Romans as possible. Quintus saw the impossibility of their situation. They could not manoeuvre, they were well outnumbered and the enemy had the dark and surprise on their side. He had no other recourse than to shout, “Retreat!”
    As they made their way down the hazardous slope the arrows and missiles continued to thin their ranks. The tribesmen were moving as fast as the cavalry and Quintus could see that the retreat had merely delayed the inevitable. They would die. He determined to die as a warrior and he kept turning his horse to face the enemy behind, slashing down with his spatha and killing many tribesmen. As soon as he had despatched one he continued down the hill. The rest of his turma, those that lived, attempted to do the same. Those in Levius’ turma just fled making them easy targets for the spears, stones and arrows hurled at them. Quintus’ men’s retreat made their pursuers wary. He wondered whether to make a stand and was debating whether or to order his men to turn when he heard the welcome call of the buccina. The Decurion Princeps was on his way to help. Almost as the last note faded away, a solid line of cavalry appeared. Those in the centre had bows and they launched a volley at Quintus’ pursuers. The unprotected tribesmen fell like leaves and the last few troopers were able to disengage and find shelter behind their comrades.
    Marcus had no time for pleasantries. “One more volley and then fall back.” As Quintus, bleeding heavily from his arm and legs, emerged through the cavalry he saw a solid hedgehog of auxilia and legionaries.
    When the cavalry filtered through Cominius