S. Turney - The conquest of Gaul

Ingenuus nodded and sighed.

“It’ll take a few minutes to round everyone up and pull them back, sir. What do you want to do about these odd defenders and the women?”

Fronto shrugged.

“We’ve got to give them the option of surrendering or dying.”

Ingenuus shook his head.

“No point, sir. I’ve been watching them. Even running away they won’t surrender. You’ll just have to kill them all, unless…”

His voice tailed away. Fronto frowned.

“Unless what?”

“Well it’s just a thought sir. How much do we want prisoners?”

Fronto raised an eyebrow.

“You’re proposing that we let them go?”

The prefect nodded.

“What else can we do, sir? We’ve got to let them go or kill them so we can get to the carts. We want to let the women go anyway, surely?”

Fronto nodded.

“Alright then. Round up your men and find one of them that speaks the dialect. Get him to deliver an offer.”

As Ingenuus nodded and mounted his horse once more, Fronto jogged back toward the centuries under his command.

“Tetricus.”

“Sir?”

“If we can clear the people off those wagons, what do you propose to do?”

Tetricus smiled.

“That’s easy sir. Look at them now. There’s more coming out between and underneath the wagons every minute. Some of them are even climbing over the top now; I’ve been watching the women beating them and calling them cowards or some such. I don’t even know if we need to break the carts down now. Before too long the pure weight of men pushing at the inside will push them over.”

Fronto nodded.

“Not soon enough though. They’re caught like rats in a trap, but they’re fighting like men who have no way out. Every minute they stay trapped between the carts and the legions, they’re butchering our men. I’m not having that. I’d rather see them run.”

Tetricus scanned the carts.

“Alright. We need to get some rope. Quite a bit of rope. There are three places where we could attach them. We’d have to get the prefect to give us horses. We can heave on the ropes and pull these three carts…”

He gestured to three apparently random carts in the wall. Fronto scratched his head.

“Why those three?”

“If you look carefully, you’ll see that every other cart has been turned on its side. That’s why it’s a wall, not just a line. They’re jammed against each other and none of the upright ones can move because of the upturned ones jamming them in.”

Fronto continued to scratch his head, then he slowly began to smile.

“I see what you mean. Those three are different. One of them’s end-on.”

“Exactly. I’d guess that was the last cart they jammed in the line, but it didn’t fit properly. If we heave on that one and the one on either side, it should give.”

“Bit of a narrow passageway for the entire German army to flee through, though isn’t it?”

Tetricus sighed.

“Once that hole’s opened up the whole lot will give under the pressure of all those men. How long are a few unanchored carts going to stand between thousands of men and their freedom?”

Fronto nodded.

“I take your point.”

Off in the distance, he could hear shouting. Shading his eyes and glancing over towards Ingenuus, he saw the entire force gathered behind the prefect, with the exception of two riders who sat out front, shouting at the wall in their unintelligible dialect.

“I wonder how it’s…”

Finishing the sentence was unnecessary. The German response to the Roman offer was brutally obvious. While the German women spat in the direction of the cavalry, the men began throwing boulders, spears and anything they could find. The two auxiliary spokesmen disappeared beneath a shower of missiles and, as the barrage died away, their bodies lacked any movement. Tetricus shook his head.

“Why?”

“That’s it, then. We’ll have to do this the hard way. Follow me.”

Followed closely by Tetricus and the five centuries, Fronto moved at double-time down to where the cavalry had gathered. He saw a regular decurion among the press and gestured to him.

“You. Go and find some rope. Lots of rope. We need six ropes; each at least twenty yards long.”

The decurion glanced only briefly at Ingenuus for confirmation before riding back toward the Roman lines. Fronto squared his shoulders and called over to Ingenuus.

“Prefect? We’re going to have to take care of them I’m afraid. If they won’t surrender and they won’t run, they’ll just have to die. D’you see the three carts over there, towards the centre?”

Ingenuus shaded his eyes.

“The one that’s end on? Yes.”

“That’s where we have to hit. We need to clear everyone out of that whole area. I’ll take the infantry into the centre and we’ll clear the three carts and attach ropes to the wagons. You boys take the three of four vehicles to either side and then keep us covered. I’ll need six of your men then, ready to take ropes and ride away with them. Once we’ve attached them, your horses will have to pull the carts over. As soon as the wall breaks, your whole unit’s going to have to pull back behind the legions though, or you’ll be caught when they flee.”

Ingenuus nodded and then frowned.

“What about you sir? If we pull a hole in that thing and you’re all on foot, are you going to be able to get away in time?”

Fronto grinned.

“We’ll be able to get moving as soon as the ropes are attached. I think we’ll have time.”

Tetricus glanced off toward the Roman camp.

“I hope that horseman comes back fast with the rope. We’ve got to get moving.”

Fronto looked up at the cavalry prefect.

“Aulus, we’re going to head in for those three carts now. As soon as your man comes back with rope, come and join us and sling the rope to us.”

Ingenuus nodded unhappily and, leaving the cavalry on the edge of the field, the infantry force moved on the wall in a column. Despite being drawn from three different legions, the five centuries under Fronto’s command worked in perfect unison. Moments before the German missiles began to fly, the shields came up in front, then to the sides and the rear and, finally, over the top, in the traditional testudo. The five centuries each pulled the same manoeuvre at the same time and the missiles bounced harmlessly from the shields surrounding them.

As the units closed on the targeted carts, the orders were given and the front rank thrust their swords through the narrow gaps between shields. With synchronised precision, the centuries separated out into a wide line. Finally, a few of the German defenders began to consider the possibility that they had made a terrible mistake. They were now trapped between their carts and a wall of steel and bronze. Several of them broke and ran to one side or the other. One or two actually laid down their weapons, only to be despatched by the man standing next to them. Most of them resolutely stared the Romans in the face.

Fronto hoped the cavalry would move in soon; that the ropes would arrive. The testudo was good for protection, but any moment now they would have to reform in order to fight effectively.

Perhaps an early rush would remove their effective resistance long enough to take hold of the situation.

“Break ranks and charge!”

Chaos ensued as shields were dropped into their proper positions and the Romans hit the carts like a battering ram. A warrior standing between two wooden spars in front of the centre cart lashed out at Fronto with a spear, though the blow went wild and Fronto easily brushed it aside with his oval shield. Throwing himself in at the man, within the effective range of the spear, the legate continued to push the man’s weapon arm to the left with his shield until he was almost on top of him. Bringing his arm up high, bent at the elbow, he brought his sword down between the man’s collar bones and heard the crack of his solar plexus splitting. The body slid to the floor at his feet and he turned to examine the scene.