Heir of Aurelian

Chapter 96 A General's Ambitions

King Nath stood side by side with his warriors. The Celtic war-band was adorned in mail shirts and iron helmets as they stood fiercely across the battlefield from the Picts. In northern Britannia, two armies stood across from one another on the fields of war. The Hibernians tribes had rallied under their high king after he had lost a game of drink to the Roman General Primus, and in doing so swore his servitude as Foederati to the Roman Legions.

Thus, the two forces stood side by side as they prepared to deal with the Pictish barbarians who stood naked and painted from head to toe in woad. The barbarians rattled their swords and spears against their rectangular shields as they shouted their war cries in the distance. Primus gazed upon the brave warriors of the North, and scoffed. These men were clearly savages, incapable of producing armor, or so he thought.

As for the leader of the Pictish army, he shouted obscenities in his mother tongue towards the Roman Army. If Primus were capable of understanding him, he would hear the words “I will piss in your skull” being thrown at him. Fortunately, he was entirely incapable of understanding the Pictish language, and merely thought of the large blonde man as a primitive savage.

Primus sat in the rear of his army, mounted on horseback. His steed was covered from the head to its rear in scale brass scale barding. It was virtually impervious to any weapons that the enemy may use against him. He would likely not see combat on this battlefield, but it was nice to make sure he was protected against the enemy’s attacks.

Under the pouring rain, the Roman General lifted his spatha into the air, and pointed it towards his enemy before giving the orders to begin the assault.

“Forward March!”_.

The Roman and Hibernian armies marched forwards in their formations with shields raised above their heads, protecting themselves from the oncoming volley of rocks and arrows that were lobbed towards their direction. When the Roman soldiers reached a certain distance, the archers in the rear lines returned fire, though the effect of their weapons was limited by the pouring rain.

The compound bows that the Romans were equipped with utilized an animal sinew bowstring. When it got wet, it became unreliable to the say the least. Primus could only curse at the accuracy problems that occurred because of this. He had no choice but to abandon the use of archers and force his infantry to respond with their ranged weapons. Upon closing a distance of roughly fifty meters from the enemy, the command was given.

“Plumbatae!”

Immediately after saying this, the roman legionaries grabbed the weighted war darts from the pocket embedded in the back of their shields, and lobbed them towards the enemy. A rain of projectiles fell down upon the unarmored Picts and skewered through their torso as they were made of butter.

Blood-curdling screams echoed in the stormy air, while thunder drowned them out. Having expended their war darts, the Roman soldiers reformed their shield wall and pressed forward towards the enemy in a brutal charge. The two armies clashed together, while Primus gazed upon the battle from the rear.

Now that the shield walls were pressing against each other, the Romans had the advantage. With superior weapons and armor, it was only a matter of time before the Scottish numbers were whittled down. Upon realizing this, he issued an order to the Cavalry who acted on standby to charge the enemy and attack them from behind.

In the fields of Northern Britannia, the two thousand cataphracts that Primus had at his command were enough to become a major game changer. Thus, the moment the heavy cavalry rushed off from their position, and towards the enemy, he had a wide smile on his face.

King Nath was a warrior King, and because of this he was at the front lines, fighting alongside his warriors, and the Roman Legionaries. It surprised him to see the level of organization among the Roman forces, as they stood toe to toe with the Picts. He pressed his shield against the enemy in front of him and used his spear to thrust through the man’s unarmored chest.

Upon ripping the spear from the enemy’s torso, blood and bile fell to the floor, but Nath did not care. He continued to press the advantage and fight the enemy where they stood. When he saw the Cavalry swarming around the rear of the enemy formation from both sides, a wicked grin appeared on his face as he shouted in his native tongue a declaration of victory.

“Hahaha! That Roman bastard waited until now to use his cavalry. Victory is ours, boys!”

The Hibernian warriors all had wide grins on their faces as they pressed forward with a second wind, piercing their weapons through the bodies of their enemies. The Cavalry rapidly approached the rear of the Picts formation, smashing through their ranks, and piercing those poor unfortunate souls who got in the way of their lances.

With an attack in the front and the rear, the Picts quickly began to panic. As casualties mounted, the more green warriors among their lines broke ranks and fled to the hills. Just like that, the enemy had been routed and was heading north to regroup with their reinforcements. Primus smiled and roared as he saw the sight of the broken Pictish army being run down by his cavalry. He would ensure not a single survivor escaped his grasp.

Thus, after the battle had concluded, a slaughter of the enemy forces occurred. Despite their best efforts, the Picts would not make it back to their comrades, and would die in the fields of Northern Britannia. Nath approached Primus after everything was concluded and congratulated him on the victory.

“That was some damn good fun. I was not expecting the battle to go so smoothly. However, this is only the beginning. There are plenty more of the savage bastards hiding up north. We will have to wage a campaign to drive them back beyond the Hadrian wall. Primus merely scoffed when he heard this before lecturing the man in his view.

“Hadrian’s wall? Bah, I won’t stop there. For the first time in centuries, I will ensure that the northern bastards fuck off, and retreat beyond the Antonine Wall, where I will rebuild the son of a bitch to a more proper fortification.”

Nath stared at the Roman General in disbelief. It was hard enough to retake the lands south of Hadrian’s wall, but this mad bastard wanted to go even further north, and build a second wall where an earthen fortification once stood. He shook his head in disbelief as he heard this before commenting on the man’s ambitions.

“Did your emperor demand this of you?”

Primus chuckled when he heard this before shaking his head and informing the man of his vision.

“Not at all. He just wants me to retake the existing lands of Britannia, but I think those Pictish cunts need a thorough ass kicking. So I’ve decided to push them beyond the ancient boundaries we once held, and achieve eternal glory as the man who reclaimed Antonine’s wall. If I’m stuck here in the ass crack of the world, then I damn well better be remembered for it.”

Evidently, Primus was not fond of his time spent in Britannia. However, could you really blame him? He was a man born and raised in the Mediterranean, and now he was stuck in a land where the sun rarely shone down upon him.

He did not blame Marcellus for this, naturally capable leadership was needed to secure the region, but he felt a bit bitter about his lot in life. Maybe if he had a busty Germanic slave girl to keep him company like Marcellus did during his previous campaigns, he would be a bit less salty about his position.

For whatever reason, the Roman General decided on a side goal in that moment, to obtain a busty Pictish slave. Thus, he was more excited than ever at the prospect of driving the Picts further north than the Emperor requested of him. Nath naturally did not know this, and instead hazed into the distance, towards the north, before sighing.

“What you say is true, the Picts are indeed in need of a thorough ass kicking.”

After saying that, the two men shared a laugh, before taking care of more important matters. To the victors go the spoils, and though the Picts weren’t the wealthiest of people, they still had arms and jewelry on them that could be sold for a price. Thus, Primus would be overseeing the collection and distribution of spoils for the rest of the night. Naturally, as Foederati, the Hibernian tribes were allotted their fair share.  While Marcellus was dealing with conspiracies against him, his Generals were hard at work securing the borders of the Western Roman Empire.