THE CALEDONIAN: Treachery by Michael Dave

Author:Michael, Dave [Michael, Dave]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-07-22T00:00:00+00:00

Six

D

uring the blackout, a deafening buzz rang in Calach’s ears, and continued when he shot open his eyes. Blurry vision took in lots of fast-moving red shapes. The deafening buzz diminished. The vision sharpened; the figures were Romans. Romans running on foot. Spear holding. Shield bearing. Romans on horseback. Horses dashed through clusters of foot troopers, and stormed downwards to kill the warrior son of Brude.

Calach’s fingers clumsily clasped the hilt of the stolen gladius that lay by his head. Stumbling to feet, he waited, and watched the advancing mob in bewilderment. The buzzing stopped. Reality struck his heart with a thump. Peeking behind; rows of roundhouses. Gaping at the advancing horde, he froze.

The caped Roman officer, Lucinius Gracchus, led the charge on horse, and outstretched his gladius to the Caledonian.

The Caledonian wheeled, and ran for life to the roundhouses. Leaping on a barrel top, he scrambled onto a roundhouse roof. Gruff voices shouted hateful abuse. Screeches of horses. The baiting mob at his heels. Standing upon the thatch, Calach booted a plume helmeted Roman that popped up behind. A spear whooped past his right shoulder. Another, above his head. Turning, he ran over the roofed thatch. A sword swinging, roaring Roman attacked from his right.

Ducking the gladius, the Caledonian lifted the Roman’s torso onto his back, and flipped him over. The Roman bounced hard on thatch. A second trooper, gladius aloft, stormed over the rise from the left. The Caledonian slipped sideways. Gladius thrust past his stomach. Grasping the attacker’s tunic breast, he threw him off the roof. Sprinting, he dashed to the thatch’s edge, and leapt to the neighboring house’s roof.

Looking below, the red cloud of horse and foot troopers, kept abreast. Tearing to the roundhouse’s rear, Calach stopped dead on the roof’s edge. On the ground, the unsuspecting Lucinius Gracchus rode a fine black stallion.

The Caledonian, dived head first, and mauled Gracchus’ shoulders, ripping him from the saddle. Calach’s body thumped to earth, then he shot to his feet.

Gracchus stumbled to his knees, while the stallion high pitched whinnies resonated. The black cloaked Roman officer looked to Calach for mercy.

Calach’s snarled a mouthful of anger, and longed to avenge. Thrusting the gladius point on, he steadfastly marched to, and never took his gaze from Gracchus. Two paces away; the clamour of the Roman rabble. Looking back; Romans poured from a gap between roundhouses.

Gracchus collapsed with relief when the Celt lowered the sword, and leapt into the fretting steed’s saddle.

The Caledonian gripped the reins, body thrust forwards, boots dug deep into the stallion’s underbelly, and bolted away. He stayed close to roundhouses, and passed between the last two. Three helmeted troopers burst in front. Shields struck dirt. An impromptu wall. Calach kept the rapid pace, and smashed through the wall. Ravaging one Roman with a slashing sword, agonizing cries from the falling wounded, torso low, chin snug upon the horse’s mane, he dashed down the earthen field. Roman cavalry charged from the upper and lower hill. Unnerved by the oncoming tide, he brought the stallion to a sudden stop.

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