disgruntled mutterings, and more than a few profane curses, from the four cohorts designated to remain behind and guard the camp. Trumpets sounded as soldiers helped each other into their armour. Decani conducted quick inspections before reporting to their centurions and options.
For Centurion Magnus and his men, a benefit of being in the First Cohort was that they never got left behind on guard detail. With eight hundred elite soldiers in its ranks, the venerable First was always at the proverbial spear-point of any attack. Of course the chances of being killed or seriously injured also increased exponentially, but then, that was a risk they all willingly accepted.
Their tents were erected near the western entrance to the camp. As he buckled his sword baldric, Magnus watched scores of cavalrymen converge just beyond the ramparts and encircling trench. Commander Julianus was disseminating orders to his company commanders. Light auxilia skirmishers formed into groups of twenty to thirty, ready to accompany the horsemen in pursuit of the Deceangli fugitives. With a few last minute instructions from General Paulinus, Master Centurion Tyranus led the First Cohort out the hastily erected gate. They marched at the quick step, anxious for battle and the possibility of plunder. In addition to their weapons, General Paulinus ordered the men to bring two days’ worth of rations, in case of an unexpected stay at the hillfort. The younger legionaries in the other cohorts were particularly eager and had to be reminded by their section leaders to calm themselves. Their objective was at least half-a-day’s march from the camp, and they needed to save their strength for the coming battle.
While the Syrian archers formed a wide skirmish line approximately fifty meters forward of the main body, the aquilifer marched at the head of the legionaries, boldly carrying aloft the sacred imperial eagle. Legate Paulinus, the tribunes, and Master Centurion Tyranus rode near the aquilifer, escorted by twenty of the legion’s indigenous horsemen. With only a narrow road, which was simply a well-worn dirt path used by farmers between settlements, most of the soldiers marched on either side in a pair of columns. The ground was mostly open grassland, perfect for farming. Scapula made mention of this to Paulinus.
“All the more reason for us to eventually conquer this land,” the legate remarked. He then added an observance he’d made as a young man, while serving as chief tribune to one of the legions in Germania, “The true wealth of a land is not in its gold or jewels, but in how much of that land can be cultivated for agriculture.”
“One cannot eat gold,” Scapula added in concurrence. “Of course, I have heard rumours of there being a wealth of gold and other metals in the lands west of the Sabrina. The emperor will no doubt be pleased, should we acquire some of these riches for the empire. But the first thing we must do is destroy Caratacus and his resistance.”
It was early afternoon when they came within earshot of the Deceangli capital. The sound of panicked screams echoed from beyond a large grove of trees just north of the path. Scapula rode forward as he saw a section of ten troopers from Indus’ Horse riding towards them. They were arrayed in two files with nearly thirty oxen bearing baskets full of food stores, in addition to a score of sheep, between them.
“Commander Julianus’ compliments, sir,” a decurion said, saluting the governor. “We were ordered to take these ‘mobile rations’ back to camp.”
“What of the people you took them from?” the governor asked.
“We slew any who attempted to resist and took probably a hundred prisoners. One of the infantry cohorts is sorting them out as we speak.”
“Prisoners can be useful hostages,” Paulinus noted.
Scapula shrugged dismissively. “Or at least they’ll earn us a few denarii from the slave merchants.” He nodded to the cavalry officer. “Good work,
For Centurion Magnus and his men, a benefit of being in the First Cohort was that they never got left behind on guard detail. With eight hundred elite soldiers in its ranks, the venerable First was always at the proverbial spear-point of any attack. Of course the chances of being killed or seriously injured also increased exponentially, but then, that was a risk they all willingly accepted.
Their tents were erected near the western entrance to the camp. As he buckled his sword baldric, Magnus watched scores of cavalrymen converge just beyond the ramparts and encircling trench. Commander Julianus was disseminating orders to his company commanders. Light auxilia skirmishers formed into groups of twenty to thirty, ready to accompany the horsemen in pursuit of the Deceangli fugitives. With a few last minute instructions from General Paulinus, Master Centurion Tyranus led the First Cohort out the hastily erected gate. They marched at the quick step, anxious for battle and the possibility of plunder. In addition to their weapons, General Paulinus ordered the men to bring two days’ worth of rations, in case of an unexpected stay at the hillfort. The younger legionaries in the other cohorts were particularly eager and had to be reminded by their section leaders to calm themselves. Their objective was at least half-a-day’s march from the camp, and they needed to save their strength for the coming battle.
While the Syrian archers formed a wide skirmish line approximately fifty meters forward of the main body, the aquilifer marched at the head of the legionaries, boldly carrying aloft the sacred imperial eagle. Legate Paulinus, the tribunes, and Master Centurion Tyranus rode near the aquilifer, escorted by twenty of the legion’s indigenous horsemen. With only a narrow road, which was simply a well-worn dirt path used by farmers between settlements, most of the soldiers marched on either side in a pair of columns. The ground was mostly open grassland, perfect for farming. Scapula made mention of this to Paulinus.
“All the more reason for us to eventually conquer this land,” the legate remarked. He then added an observance he’d made as a young man, while serving as chief tribune to one of the legions in Germania, “The true wealth of a land is not in its gold or jewels, but in how much of that land can be cultivated for agriculture.”
“One cannot eat gold,” Scapula added in concurrence. “Of course, I have heard rumours of there being a wealth of gold and other metals in the lands west of the Sabrina. The emperor will no doubt be pleased, should we acquire some of these riches for the empire. But the first thing we must do is destroy Caratacus and his resistance.”
It was early afternoon when they came within earshot of the Deceangli capital. The sound of panicked screams echoed from beyond a large grove of trees just north of the path. Scapula rode forward as he saw a section of ten troopers from Indus’ Horse riding towards them. They were arrayed in two files with nearly thirty oxen bearing baskets full of food stores, in addition to a score of sheep, between them.
“Commander Julianus’ compliments, sir,” a decurion said, saluting the governor. “We were ordered to take these ‘mobile rations’ back to camp.”
“What of the people you took them from?” the governor asked.
“We slew any who attempted to resist and took probably a hundred prisoners. One of the infantry cohorts is sorting them out as we speak.”
“Prisoners can be useful hostages,” Paulinus noted.
Scapula shrugged dismissively. “Or at least they’ll earn us a few denarii from the slave merchants.” He nodded to the cavalry officer. “Good work,