"And C C Caratacus? Wh what would you d do if y you were him?"
"It's starting to be a bit late," Gaius shrugged. "His best chance was when we landed, and his next best chance was when we started marching inland, or when we began crossing the Thames. Now, his only chance to put up a fight is to come out straight away before his men desert him. Now, as you can see, on his left flank there's a terrible tangle of brambles. I'm ready to guess that he'll think that we've made a mistake by giving him a protected left flank, and he'll put his weaker troops there. When the elephants to clear a way. ."
"The following troops will get a c clear strike," Claudius nodded.
"Better, it puts immediate confusion elsewhere. The Celts are brave enough, but when they see their left collapse, given their history of losses and no obvious way to retreat with the water behind them, hopefully they'll start to think about ways of escape."
"Th that sounds g good," Claudius nodded.
* * *
The day began with a fog, so that nobody in Camulodunum could see what was happening. They could hear, however; there was the pronounced sound of various horns, orders, and the clunking of armour. This was no surprise attack, and the legions were assembling for battle. While the lines were being formed, some of the troops began escorting the Senators and their families to the wooden structures from which they could view proceedings, assuming the fog lifted.
"What a waste of bloody time," the Legate of the Fourteenth muttered.
"On the contrary, it is a sign of supreme confidence by the Princeps. When he wins, the Senators won't be able to deny his victory."
"We haven't won yet," the Legate pointed out.
"Better not let the Senators hear that," Gaius grinned. "If the Celts break through anywhere, and there's no line immediately in front of them, they'll be scared shitless."
"You know, it's almost worth it! Just for a little while, anyway."
"The thought occurred to me too," Gaius shrugged. "It'd do the scheming bastards good to have a good bowel clean-out, but you know as well as I do, we won't."
"I know. I'll see you later. Good luck."
"And good luck to you too."
* * *
When the fog lifted, the Celts saw the legions lined up to form what was seemingly an overwhelming force. The gates opened, and more Celts poured out to support those behind the massive earthworks running in a line across the area between them. At this point the ballistae opened up. At first, the giant bolts did not make the distance. Two things then happened: some Celts stood up on the earthworks to hurl insults, and some of the Senators began muttering, "I told you this would happen." At that point the ballistae began using smaller bolts; these reached the Celts on the earthworks, and following much screaming, those who could took cover behind the earthworks, leaving a number of bodies in full view. Relative silence descended on the Celts and on the Senators.
The onagers now let fly. Only moderate sized rocks could reach the earthen ramparts, and it was unlikely that these did any real damage, but that did not matter. Their main purpose was to distract the Celts. Meanwhile the legions began shouting insults. From their trenches, Celts howled them back.
This situation continued for some time, and it seemed that neither side wished to take the initiative. Then Claudius saw the sign he was waiting for: movement in the thicket. Immediately he ordered the advance. A horn blew, and the legions began to march forward. Because they were in a ditch, the Celts could not use archers, and Caratacus clearly recognized that his troops could not remain stationary until the Romans reached the top of the rampart. There were roars from the Celts, and they emerged, to charge the Romans.
When the Celtic charge was quite close, a barrage of pilii flew, then another. The Celtic charge paused as Celts tried to avoid being impaled. At the same time, the Romans formed a shield wall, and began to advance. The tactic was standard, the Celts had been ready for it, and they quickly reformed their lines.
The horn blew again, and a great noise could be heard from the brambles. The Celts on the left side turned to see what could be there, and in the centre, the Celtic charge faltered. Then, from the brambles, the first of the elephants emerged, and charged. The Celtic line on the left disintegrated as the Celts tried to avoid the rampaging elephants.
The elephants now charged towards the rear of the previously charging Celts. Before them were Romans, behind them were elephants and the shields of the ninth. At this point, the Celtic charge degenerated into chaos as the wall of Roman shields of the second and the fourteenth inexorably advanced. Gaius managed to get one glimpse of Caratacus riding to his left, desperately trying to instil order. But the Celts now wished to retreat to behind their city walls. To do this, they had to get through or around the ninth, and as they chose to run around, they ran behind their own troops, who could hear the sounds of elephants, horns, Roman armour clanking, screams from their own troops, cavalry, and all this led to general panic. They would turn to look, and to them it was only too obvious that they were losing. They too began to peel away and run.
Immediately Gaius let loose his cavalry from his right flank, and sent a division of three cohorts in support. The retreating British now had their retreat cut off, an attack in front, on their right, and from their rear.
From his viewpoint on a small hillock, Gaius saw Caratacus again. He was beaten, and he knew it. But still he was organizing his troops, ready for one last charge. Let him, Gaius thought.
But when the charge came, it was not quite what Gaius expected. The British charged directly at the infantry supporting the elephant advance. The Romans quickly locked shields and prepared, but then, just as they braced themselves, the attack peeled off to the left.
The Romans turned and chased, but once through the line, the Celts were free. The heavily armoured Roman soldier was unable to keep up with the lightly protected Celtic footmen, and the Roman cavalry was elsewhere.
Gaius nodded in approval. Caratacus was breaking out in the one gap created by the elephants and in the one place where escape had not been considered. The fourteenth's cavalry was deployed to mop up those who had been initially on the left flank, while the twentieth's cavalry was attacking nearer the capital to prevent Celts from returning to their fortified position. Either by good luck or by good analysis Caratacus had found the one spot between legions that was not covered by cavalry.
Then, suddenly, many of the other Britons disappeared. It turned out they had peeled off into a small gully, which, because of the fog, had been overlooked initially. When the Romans pursuers found it, they found the floor was yet another swamp. If they ran, they found themselves up to their armpits in mud, while if they tried to run around the swamp, it was obvious that the Britons would escape.
By now the battle before the city walls was over, and the gates themselves were opened. Gaius recalled his cavalry, and was about to send them after the fleeing Britons when a thought struck him. The cavalry would not be particularly suitable for the fog or swamp, and while the horses were uninjured, they had been ridden hard and long, and they had been in battle. The day had been an outstanding success. There was no need to give the Britons a chance to sour it.
Instead, he sent the cavalry towards the city gates, with the orders to assemble the three cohorts and secure entry to the capital. The fourteenth had also advanced to the city, and Roman soldiers were now proceeding to disarm the inhabitants.
The senators now felt it safe to leave their observation posts and walk towards the gates. A chain of soldiers were quickly assembled to form an honour guard, and the various cohorts began to assemble before the city.