Sarum - Edward Rutherfurd [124]
“Where in Hades is the garrison from Glevum?” he thundered at his staff. He turned irritably to Agricola, the handsome military tribune. “Who’s in charge there?”
“At present the prefect, Poenius Postumus,” Agricola replied promptly. “They should have come up here by now.”
“I told them to meet me here,” Suetonius grumbled.
It was a quandary and for once his staff could see that the governor was hesitant.
“Well, we’d better go to Londinium to see if anything can be done and hope they catch up,” he said at last. And once again the tired party pushed on, eastwards towards the port.
They came to Londinium the next morning. Although it was not an administrative centre like Camulodunum with the status of a colonia, it was already a large, sprawling place. Warehouses rose along the river, and the wooden houses of the traders in the muddy streets behind. There were military stores surrounded by palisades, and a make-shift forum. But unlike most Roman settlements, the majority of the buildings were still made of wood instead of stone or brick. It was a busy, informal place – a natural growth waiting to transform itself into a great city: and as Porteus looked at it, he knew that it could not be defended. There were a handful of troops at the depots; but no sign of the legionaries from the Second. The governor and his little force waited unhappily all day while ever worse reports came in. The imperial temple at Camulodunum had been razed to the ground, the colony burnt, and every Roman or pro-Roman inhabitant slain. Boudicca’s horde was on its way to London now, and there were fifty, sixty, seventy thousand of them. The traders and their families anxiously crowded round the depot where the governor and his staff were waiting.
“You must save the warehouses, protect our families,” they cried.
“With what?” demanded Suetonius angrily. And at nightfall he announced: “We’re leaving. There’s nothing we can do here. Tell these people to flee wherever they can: if they don’t, they’ll be cut to pieces.” Then without more ado, he turned his horse and made his way out on the road back towards Verulamium.
Still there was no sign of the Second; but the following night on the south-east horizon, there was a red glow, and they knew that Londinium was being burned. Before dawn reports came that the huge horde was already advancing in their direction.
“Save yourselves,” Suetonius called to the people of Verulamium. “I can’t.” And yet again, the cavalry cortège clattered back up the road still looking for troops.
That night, once more, they saw the terrible red glow along the horizon.
“Verulamium’s gone too,” Porteus whispered to Marcus. And for once even Marcus’s strong face showed that he was worried.
The XIV and the XX Legions arrived from Mona the next morning. They had covered the two hundred miles in a succession of forced marches and carrying heavy equipment, but the troops were battle hardened and ready for action.
“And now,” Suetonius said to his staff, “we shall show them.”
The battle that took place two days later was one of the most terrible and merciless examples of slaughter that has ever occurred on the island. It also proved once again that Suetonius, whatever his faults, was a great commander.
The Romans were completely outnumbered. The combined strength of the detachments of the two legions amounted to about seven thousand men: advancing upon them was a victorious horde of ten and perhaps twenty times that size, determined not only to defeat them but to exterminate every last man and destroy Roman power in the province for ever. Faced by a less able general, they might have succeeded.
Suetonius had time to choose his ground, and he chose a long, narrow, defile on a gentle slope: at the top of the slope and on each side were woods. Coolly he arranged