Eagle in the Snow by Breem Wallace

Author:Breem, Wallace [Breem, Wallace]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
ISBN: 9781780225371
Publisher: Phoenix
Published: 2012-11-14T23:00:00+00:00

XIII

TEN DAYS LATER the Rhenus Fleet moved into the mouth of the Moenus. It was a little after midnight, and I stood on the poop of Gallus’ flagship, listening to the strong beat of the oars. Behind us, following in our wake, came all the merchant ships and small boats that I had been able to muster. On board them was a mixed cohort of heavy and light infantry, under the command of Fabianus. At the same time, Goar and Marcomir, with five thousand men, stiffened by a cohort of my own, together with the cavalry under Quintus, moved across the plateau towards the north side of the enemy camp. Quintus had crossed the river at Boudobrigo and it had taken a long time to get the horses over, for the boats were small and only held six animals at a time. It was growing light now and I could feel the wind on my cheek and see the faint, smudged line of the hills in the distance. “Now,” I said, and a fireball hurled into the air. It was the signal for the attack. The boats were jostling past us in the half light, loaded with men, arms and equipment, while the catapults of the fleet pitched fireballs and missiles in a steady stream onto the enemy’s fortifications. I could hear the grinding of the keels as the boats struck the beach, and then Fabianus was ashore, his men fanning out to right and left of him. He captured the off-shore island in one swift, bloody assault, and then poured his men onto the mainland. His attack was sudden and determined, and the surprise complete. Keeping his cohort in a tight, controlled battle formation, he struck straight into the camp before any serious attempt could be made to rally the astonished Marcomanni. Tents were fired, baggage destroyed, waggons broken and horses killed or stampeded.

On the far side of the camp, Marcomir and Goar led their men in a rush that took them straight through the palisade and the outer defences. Supported on each flank by Quintus’ cavalry their attack proved difficult to turn. They had strict orders to disengage and withdraw, the moment the enemy rallied and the impetus of their assault began to waver. I wanted no heroes, no fights to the death, no units cut off and making gallant last stands. I wanted only a limited success; and I achieved it. The camp was in an uproar. There was fire and smoke everywhere; horses neighing, women screaming, children crying, and men shouting in rage and terror. There was no order and discipline among the tribes. War chiefs, struggling to summon their men, were cut down while they shrieked defiance; men, groping for weapons, faced the armed legionaries one minute, only to be driven onto the spears of the cavalry behind, the next. Fireballs crashed through the roofs of tents and huts and a thick pall of acrid smoke streamed upwards, like a funeral pyre, into the clouded sky.

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