Hosker, G [Sword of Cartimandua 00.5] Ulpius Felix- Warrior of Rome by Griff Hosker Page A

handful of mane and the reins and lay flat along the back of the horse.  He found, to his surprise that he still floated, despite the metal he was carrying.  He pulled the reins in his right hand the horse began to turn, gratefully, back to the river bank. As it slipped up the slippery mud the Decurion almost fell but managed to right himself and save his dignity.
    “Well then.  How does that look?”
    He could see them smiling. “Yes sir, I think we could do that.”
    “Good, well you and Gerjen can be the first to try.  Do just as I did, and complete one loop.  It is just for you to get the feel of it.” Wolf warily nudged his horse forwards and Gerjen followed. Once they found that they did not sink their faces brightened. The river was cold and that appeared to be the only problem.
    Later as they rode back to camp, all chattering excitedly about the experience Wolf nudged his horse, Blackie, next to the Decurion. “So sir, is that hew we are going to attack the Chauci?  Swim across the river?”
    Flavius gave the young standard bearer an appraising look.  Since Cava had been given his own turma he found himself relying on Wolf more and more.  He was bright for Publius had taken much longer to work out what the Prefect had intended.  “Between you and I Wolf yes, but keep it to yourself.”
    “Of course sir.”
    Flavius looked at the standard.  “Have you worked out how you are going to fight with that then Wolf?”
    “Yes sir.  When we were in the camp the other day I saw a Legion aquilifer and he had a small shield in his left hand.  I thought that would give me some protection.”
    “And save you using the standard like a lance.”
    “Yes sir. Sorry about that, I just forgot what I was holding.”
    “Don’t forget that when we fight you will have to give commands from me with the standard.  We do not use the buccina of the legions.  The men need to look to you to know my orders.”
    “I know sir.  I won’t let you down.”
    “I never thought for a moment that you would.”
    Sura and his men had largely survived the crossing of the Rhenus.  When they reached the other bank they found that there were four of their number missing. It was an acceptable loss.  As dawn broke they smelled the fires of the villages which were dotted along the bank. This was the tricky part. They wore no helmets but still retained the armour and swords of the ala.  Sura was relying on the fact that their hair made them look less Roman to give them the chance to speak with the warriors of the Chauci.  He had contemplated just hiding out in the forests but winter was approaching and he wanted the safety of a hut to survive the snows. They rode, nervously in single file towards the nearest smoke.  Sura was no coward and he took the lead; half expecting an arrow from the forest to be his only warning of the Chauci.  He saw the lightening of the trees and knew that there would be a clearing ahead. He saw the warriors charge from their walled village. “Keep your hands away from your weapons.” He spread his arms wide and hope that the universal sign for peace would keep them safe.
    They were surrounded and each of the deserters found themselves with two spears at their throats. Sura tried Pannonian first, “We have left the Romans to fight with you.”
    The blank look from the two warriors told him that they did not understand him. He tried the same in Marcomanni and they showed that they understood a word or two although which two, Sura did not know.  It did, however, appear to make their captors relax and they were led into the village.  They were thrown unceremoniously into a hut and left there for some hours.
    Finally, after they had begun to fear the worst, the door was opened and a sour looking guard prodded them out with his spear. Outside they found some well armed and armoured warriors.  Three of them had the torcs of chiefs around their necks.  Their tattooed bodies showed many battle scars and on