them.” He shook his head. “We should have launched an attack on their land division and dispersed them while they were on the march!”
While Caratacus appreciated the valour and tenacity of the Silures, he knew King Orin was prone to recklessness. “To do so would mean sending fifty thousand warriors deep into Roman lands. They would have ambushed us, as we intend to do to them.”
“Besides, your warriors lack the discipline to remain organized long enough to take part in such a vast undertaking,” Seisyll scoffed. Though allies they may have been, the old animosities between their kingdoms would not so easily die.
Caratacus took a few moments to contemplate this new threat. “Our enemy is clever, but he has also committed himself to serious risk by dividing his forces. King Orin, I would ask that you return to your army and make ready to harry and delay the Roman army in the south. I will remain here with King Seisyll. We will draw this invasion force deep into the mountains southwest of here. Once they are lost and scattered, we can converge our forces to deal with the invaders coming up from the south.”
The kings agreed. Orin, however, was beginning to feel pangs of animosity towards his blood-brother, who was now all but giving him orders. The messenger from Deceangli looked at Caratacus in horror. “But…what of us? What of our people? Who will save us?”
“Courage is your best defence this day,” King Seisyll said, almost dismissively. The Deceangli were one of his protectorates; however, they would now have to take a stand themselves, earning the protecting the Ordovices had given them all these years.
Chapter V: Slaves of Fear
Roman Camp near Kimmel Bay
***
“Sir, we’ve located a large hillfort not ten miles from here,” Commander Julianus from Indus’ Horse reported. “We believe it could be the Deceangli capital.”
“If they’re that close, then they are already aware of our presence,” Paulinus reasoned.
Julianus confirmed his assessment. “We saw large numbers of people fleeing the stronghold. They were mostly weighted down with whatever possessions they could carry. Others were leading livestock towards the southwest.”
“Dispatch your cavalry and light auxilia in pursuit,” Scapula ordered. “General Paulinus, detach six cohorts to envelop the stronghold. Two companies of archers will provide skirmishers. Unfortunately, we lack heavy siege engines, just four onagers and a dozen scorpions.”
One of the harshest realities of launching an amphibious campaign was the limitations brought on by logistics. Even with most of the Britannic fleet ferrying them around the isle, there was only so much space aboard each ship. Siege engines were large and cumbersome, and from what little intelligence the Romans had about the Silures and Ordovices, the idea of building large, fortified strongholds was unknown to them. There was also the matter of transporting the heavy weapons, especially onagers, across such rugged terrain covered with near-impassable forests.
“That should be sufficient, sir,” Julianus surmised. “The oppida is large but not well defended.”
“Just don’t get reckless, slaughtering those fleeing barbarians,” Paulinus cautioned. “The Deceangli are under the protection of the Ordovices, so they could have friends waiting for us.”
While the senior leaders made their tentative plan, word was sent to the six cohorts that would take part in the assault. The past few days had been spent fortifying their camp, while cleaning and oiling all of their weaponry and kit soaked during the landing. Punishment for allowing one’s armour and weapons to become corroded by salt water residue was severe, often resulting in a flogging with the centurion’s vine staff and a loss of pay. Having spent more than a day on their kit, each soldier was now ready to abandon the tedium of life in camp for a chance at battle and glory. There were many
While Caratacus appreciated the valour and tenacity of the Silures, he knew King Orin was prone to recklessness. “To do so would mean sending fifty thousand warriors deep into Roman lands. They would have ambushed us, as we intend to do to them.”
“Besides, your warriors lack the discipline to remain organized long enough to take part in such a vast undertaking,” Seisyll scoffed. Though allies they may have been, the old animosities between their kingdoms would not so easily die.
Caratacus took a few moments to contemplate this new threat. “Our enemy is clever, but he has also committed himself to serious risk by dividing his forces. King Orin, I would ask that you return to your army and make ready to harry and delay the Roman army in the south. I will remain here with King Seisyll. We will draw this invasion force deep into the mountains southwest of here. Once they are lost and scattered, we can converge our forces to deal with the invaders coming up from the south.”
The kings agreed. Orin, however, was beginning to feel pangs of animosity towards his blood-brother, who was now all but giving him orders. The messenger from Deceangli looked at Caratacus in horror. “But…what of us? What of our people? Who will save us?”
“Courage is your best defence this day,” King Seisyll said, almost dismissively. The Deceangli were one of his protectorates; however, they would now have to take a stand themselves, earning the protecting the Ordovices had given them all these years.
Chapter V: Slaves of Fear
Roman Camp near Kimmel Bay
***
“Sir, we’ve located a large hillfort not ten miles from here,” Commander Julianus from Indus’ Horse reported. “We believe it could be the Deceangli capital.”
“If they’re that close, then they are already aware of our presence,” Paulinus reasoned.
Julianus confirmed his assessment. “We saw large numbers of people fleeing the stronghold. They were mostly weighted down with whatever possessions they could carry. Others were leading livestock towards the southwest.”
“Dispatch your cavalry and light auxilia in pursuit,” Scapula ordered. “General Paulinus, detach six cohorts to envelop the stronghold. Two companies of archers will provide skirmishers. Unfortunately, we lack heavy siege engines, just four onagers and a dozen scorpions.”
One of the harshest realities of launching an amphibious campaign was the limitations brought on by logistics. Even with most of the Britannic fleet ferrying them around the isle, there was only so much space aboard each ship. Siege engines were large and cumbersome, and from what little intelligence the Romans had about the Silures and Ordovices, the idea of building large, fortified strongholds was unknown to them. There was also the matter of transporting the heavy weapons, especially onagers, across such rugged terrain covered with near-impassable forests.
“That should be sufficient, sir,” Julianus surmised. “The oppida is large but not well defended.”
“Just don’t get reckless, slaughtering those fleeing barbarians,” Paulinus cautioned. “The Deceangli are under the protection of the Ordovices, so they could have friends waiting for us.”
While the senior leaders made their tentative plan, word was sent to the six cohorts that would take part in the assault. The past few days had been spent fortifying their camp, while cleaning and oiling all of their weaponry and kit soaked during the landing. Punishment for allowing one’s armour and weapons to become corroded by salt water residue was severe, often resulting in a flogging with the centurion’s vine staff and a loss of pay. Having spent more than a day on their kit, each soldier was now ready to abandon the tedium of life in camp for a chance at battle and glory. There were many
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