As the morning passed, Marcus made a small space among the leaves so that he could see before him. And then he said, “The Fourteenth and the Twentieth are set out ahead. I can recognise their Eagles.”
Cohort after cohort waited, formed into squares, lounging on their spears. At either side of them sat cavalrymen waiting with their long swords across their thighs.
Marcus said, half in pride, half in fear now, “Mithras, but they have come, the legions. They have come with a vengeance!”
Gerd whispered, “It is a fearsome thing to belong to such a people. You are so many and so unforgiving.”
Marcus said suddenly, “I had thought to have cheered when I saw my own folk again, but now I am almost afraid of them myself. These men have come from destroying Mona; they have marched across the land from one side to the other without resting. Someone will have to pay a high price for that marching. Look down at their faces. They are of iron, like their swords, these men.”
Then quite clearly in the morning air they heard a voice calling out through a trumpet to the assembled armies. Marcus said, “It is the General. It is old Death Bringer himself. This must be the last battle of the world.”
The thin clear voice sounded through the forest, echoing off the trees, sending the creatures to their holes and lairs. “Romans,” it said, “you stand in the cold morning winds now, but soon you will be warm. The riders have brought in news that they are coming, the Iceni and their hangers-on. You will not have long to wait.”
For a while below there was some chattering among the auxiliaries, but as the General’s voice grew more savage, even they fell silent. He spoke the words they had waited to hear.
“Brothers, for we of Rome are all brothers, you have seen what they do, these British. Many of you have lost comrades and kinsmen. Today, unless you stand fast, you will lose your own lives. Yes, I tell you that because you are men, not children, and wish to know the truth. So I will tell you the truth, it is your right to know it. These British mean to frighten you out of this Province. They mean to send you scurrying like hares to the sea. They mean to make your name stink through the world as cowards. They mean to drag down the very walls of Rome. Of course, you will let them do that. Of course, you will let them do to you what they have done to your kinsmen and comrades. Of course you will. That is what Romans like, is it not, to be captured and spiked on sharp stakes? To be flung into vats of boiling water and watch their flesh melting? To be turned slowly on spits over charcoal fires? We like that, don’t we, lads? We thrive on it, don’t we?”
As he said this, a great roar burst from the forest. It was as though the trees were shaken by an earthquake.
Suetonius went on, “Aye, we like it, I can tell. But we like it better when we are the victors. We like it better when we see the enemy turn and fling down their weapons and run screaming from us. And that is what they will do today, I promise you. I swear to almighty Jupiter, and on the bones of all my ancestors, the enemy will run today. I give you my solemn word, and I will fall on my sword here and now before you if you doubt it, that today you will wipe them out as though they had never been. Do you believe me, old friends? Do you believe Suetonius?”
Once again the trees rocked and the birds flew up crying into the air. Leaves fell to the earth in a green shower.
Then the great voice lost its passion and spoke sharply. “Very well then, my legions, remember your drill. Stand in close order, shield grating on shield. Throw your javelins true when your centurions give the word. Do not be put off your cast by blue-painted faces. Any fool can paint his face, but not any fool can cast a javelin. And when your officers give the advance, go forth in line with your swords. Poke at their blue faces, my brothers, that will make them skip. And when the horns blow, stand still. Do not move. For then the cavalry on either flank will take over from you to give you a breather. My fine cavalry will close on them like the claws of a crab, nipping them as they run. Ah, you will see, my brothers, you will see the pincers nipping hard.”
Again the earth shuddered with the stamping and spear-thudding and shield-beating.
The voice broke through again in its last command: “But, one word of warning; your work today is to trap them and kill them. That is your task and no other. Do not think of plunder. Do not turn your minds to gold and pretty weapons. Every second that you pause to pick up such rubbish will kill a comrade for you, and could kill you too. Do as I say, and by this day’s end, my brothers, you shall have all the plunder you can carry. You shall be so rich that Nero himself will envy you. Old Stomach himself will envy you!”
As he finished and the legions howled again, Gerd closed her eyes, high in the oak tree, and whispered, “I am afraid. Even to be near a Roman, like you, I am afraid.”
Marcus bowed his head and said quietly, “I cannot believe that once my father spoke such words to his men. He was such a kind man. I cannot believe it.”
But Gerd had stopped listening. Pointing towards the little space in the leaves, she said, “Look, they are coming. Her folk are coming, and she is leading them.”