The soldiers of a Roman ship, anchored on the British coast, are forced to act... |
Leaving the Ships The storm raged overhead. The wild northern wind buffeted the waves, which churned against the sides of the triremes. On the deck, the soldiers of Legio X held their shields up against the roaring wind, attempting without success to keep the pounding rain from soaking them to the skin. The general, commander of both this legion and Legio VII, had chosen this ship, out of the eighty in the fleet, to watch as his troops made the journey across the sea. The journey itself had been rather uninteresting, a couple of swells, but nothing that the sailors couldn't handle. Now they were within this close to the shore, the sky was filled with dark clouds, rain fell in sheets: Jupiter was throwing his full fury against the vessels. On the shore stood another obstacle: thousands of native warriors. Each wore blue patterns on their half naked bodies, almost tattoo-like. They carried a vicious looking range of spears, axes, knives, bows and short sword. They looked like a bristling, blue hedge of death: the fact that they had been tracking the progress of the fleet up the coast for the last few days. The soldiers watched the opposing warriors with apprehension on their faces. The ships were far too big to get any closer to the shore, which would mean wading through the cold, waist-deep water, all while being under assault from flying spears and arrows. No one wanted to be the first to hit the water, quickly followed by being the first to go on a one way trip to Neptune's underwater kingdom. The opposing army were now yelling taunts at the ships, words like 'coward', 'spineless' and 'yellow-bellied' floating on the wind to the ships. Still no one moved. The general was on the verge of physically throwing one of the soldiers over the side when one young man stood up. Carrying the standard of Legio X, the aquilifer was only 24 years old. He had travelled all the way from the Italian port town of Ostia with the army. Here he was, one of the most focal points of the army, standing up before his superiors. He held his nerve, but was still shocked when the words came tumbling out of his mouth. "Leap, fellow soldiers, unless you wish to betray your eagle to the enemy. I, for my part, will perform my duty to the republic and to my general." With that, standard in hand, the aquilifer leapt over the side of the ship, into the cold water. As he started wading towards the land, he thought about what he had said. Any other time, such insubordination would have led to a court martial at best, a decimation at worst, and having your comrades-at-arms beating you to death for dishonouring the legion somewhere in between. Behind him, however, he heard the tell tale splashes as bodies hit the water. Soldier after soldier, leaping from every ship in the fleet, swords out, shields up. Two fellow soldiers caught up with the aquilifer, protecting him from the increasing number of flying arrows, The enemy on the beach started to rush forward to meet the incoming soldiers. The general was the last to leave his ship. He looked at the soldiers who were now assaulting the natives, in an attempt to establish a beach-head. He quickly made a note on a piece of papyrus, regarding the brave words of the aquilifer in front of his comrades. He inserted the papyrus into a leather satchel, alongside a series of other similar sheets. As he turned to leave the ship, the wind caught the flap of the satchel, revealing the title page of the document. "The Gallic Wars" by G. Julius Caesar The invasion of Britannia had begun. |