Hosker, G [Sword of Cartimandua 09] Hero of Rome by Griff Hosker

despatched the beast. He hated the suffering of animals. Ahead he could here the sounds of blades clashing. He gestured his men forward. The six he had chosen were experienced men and Metellus was pleased as they readjusted their shields and tightened their grip on their swords. When he saw the flash of cloth he waved his five men left and right to surround his enemies. There was a small clearing and in the middle he saw Cicero and one of his men standing over the body of one of their companions. Eight Selgovae surrounded them advancing purposefully with axes at the ready. Their rapt attention was on these three victims and did not see the six troopers launch themselves at their unprotected backs. Metellus was in no mood for mercy and the eight of them fell to eight sword blows.
    Cicero began to speak, “Sorry sir.”
    “There is no time for that.” He turned to one of his men. “You lead the decurion and his men back to the edge of the woods.  I will finish up here.”
    Without waiting to see his orders being carried out Metellus led his four men deeper into the woods.  It soon became obvious that this was the furthest point the turma had reached and Metellus turned them around. By this time his eyes were accustomed to the gloom and he saw the first trooper he had sent back returning.  The man held up his hand in warning and pointed north. Metellus trusted his men enough to obey the instruction and he led his patrol in the direction indicated. They found six men standing over a wounded trooper. The weapons in their hands, daggers and knives showed that they were torturing him for information. The five troopers leapt forward.  One of them tripped over a branch and the Selgovae saw their opponents. The leader was a tall man who quickly picked up his axe and shield and headed for the red crested Metellus. Roaring a war cry he hurled himself at the Roman. Metellus stood his ground and watched the axe as it arced towards him. At the last minute he moved his shoulders to the side and watched the blade as it slid harmlessly off his shield to thud into the ground. The problem with axes was that their momentum always gave their opponent an opportunity to strike while the axe man was vulnerable and Metellus took his opportunity.  He slashed his sword, not at the warrior’s body as he was expecting but at the back of his knees. As the tendons were ripped open the man fell to the ground and Metellus hit him hard on the back of the head with the flat of his sword. He had his prisoner. The rest were all dead and Metellus nodded his thanks to the keen eyed trooper. “Right lads.  Back to the open but watch out for any others. You two bring this barbarian with us.”
    There were four cloaked bodies lying on the ground by the time Metellus and the patrol returned. He looked up at Cicero. “Are they all accounted for?” The ala never left a dead man on the battlefield. Cicero nodded. “Right Decurion, lead the patrol back to the fort. Put the bodies on the spare mounts.”
    Lepidus said, “Sir, we don’t have enough.”
    “Well put two on a mount. It isn’t as though we are going far is it?”  He realised that he had snapped his answer and Lepidus was only reporting. “Sorry Lepidus.  You are right and it is not your fault.”
    Lepidus smiled, Metellus was a good officer most would not have worried that they had offended their men with a thoughtless comment but Metellus was a thinker and his men liked that.
    “Make sure the barbarian does not bleed to death as we have some questions for him.”
    The men left to guard the camp had done an effective job and the ditches were littered with crudely fashioned lillia and the gate was in place. They looked in shock as the battered remains of turma thirteen arrived. The senior trooper in the fort took charge and immediately stoked the fire under the bubbling cauldron. The broth which was for their evening meal would now be used as medicine for those who were wounded. Metellus