“Leave them be!” Vitalis called to his men. “Don’t throw them back! And save your javelins!”
One spear thudded into the mud near Lucius, a colorful band of feathers tied to its head by a leather strap. He was tempted to send it back from where it had come, but he resisted as Vitalis had commanded. Vitalis was a shrewd tactician. The fewer spears they would have to face in the coming melee, the better. But Lucius did not want to simply sit and let the enemy go unmolested. Rising from his position, he hurled a stone with all his might, and then ducked back behind the wall, narrowly avoiding a well-thrown dart. Before crouching again, he had seen his stone deflect off of one man’s shield and strike another man in the face, the recoil of the man’s head jostling his dented helmet. Jovinus followed suit, catching a Nervii spearman in the shin.
One warrior with braided locks extending from beneath his helmet was shouting orders to the others. He stood in their rear rank, and was one of the few Nervii wearing any armor to speak of. He was obviously the leader of the war band. Realizing that the Romans were not going to exchange missiles with his spearmen, the Nervii officer gave the inevitable order to extend ranks and advance.
“Watch the flanks!” Vitalis shouted just as the enemy rushed the wall.
The Nervii attack could have been executed better. Instead of focusing on one group of legionaries at a time, the line of spears attacked all three groups at once without any coordination. This created a measure of confusion in the Nervii ranks from the start. The majority of the spearmen migrated toward the band of Romans in the center where the centurion with the impressive cross-plumed helmet stood. It would be a valuable trophy for the man who succeeded in killing him. This overwhelming attack on the middle group had the effect of hitting the two groups of Roman veterans on the flanks with a much lighter assault.
As the spearmen reached the wall, Lucius and the four legionaries with him rose to meet them. The first man to mount the wall received the point of Lucius’s javelin in his exposed groin. The man had no armor, only a shield, which he now dropped as he fell forward onto the Roman side of the wall, the javelin tip driven nearly a foot into his intestines. He was probably a poor farmer, thrown into the ranks at the behest of his chieftain, but he would now die a painful death in the mud beneath the boots of the fighting legionaries.
Lucius was now thankful that Vitalis had order them to retain their javelins. Many of the Nervii, having thrown their spears at the Romans, were now armed with small axes that were of little use standing on the other side of the rock barrier. Encumbered by their shields, and lacking proper coordination, the Nervii were forced to either step up onto the wall, or try to leap over it, in order to get at the Romans. Whichever method they chose, the legionaries were ready for them. Lucius and his comrades maimed and killed as the enemy came, carefully waiting and then thrusting the iron javelin tips upward at the inevitable moment of exposure. Lucius and Jovinus killed those on the wall, while the other three legionaries dispatched any managing to make it over. It would not have been as easy had they not still had their javelins. Like the Nervii axes, the short gladii did not afford a very long reach to strike an opponent several feet above, and would have put them at a distinct disadvantage. But now, they had all the advantage. Stabs to thighs, calves, and groins cleared the wall time and time again, until the stones ran red with blood.
A warrior on the other side of the wall managed to catch one of the legionaries off guard, driving the point of his spear through the Roman’s throat, sending him to the ground kicking with blood spurting from his neck. One quick thrust over the wall by Lucius’s javelin pierced the left eye of the offending spearman, turning it to jelly. As the man fell backward, Lucius tried to jerk his weapon free, but the barbed iron tip had lodged in the man’s eye socket, and the weapon was pulled from Lucius’s hands. In an instant, Lucius had drawn his gladius. A muddy Nervii boot appeared on the wall before his face as an enemy warrior tried to climb over, but Lucius brought the short sword down with a rapid stroke that severed the front half of the man’s foot clean off. The man screamed in agony as he fell back under the mass of men behind him, who were also scrambling to get over the wall. Another legionary appeared on the ground near Lucius’s feet. Lucius had not seen him fall, but the man’s face had been destroyed, presumably by a Nervii spear. Lucius dropped his gladius momentarily to grab the fallen man’s shield, which he then used to sweep the legs of two men that had climbed on top of the wall. They fell to the ground on the Roman side, allowing Lucius to bring the shield’s metal frame down on their exposed necks in two swift, throat-crushing blows. Beside Lucius, Jovinus pulled on a screaming warrior’s long hair while another legionary opened the man’s neck with a single thrust of a gladius.
The remaining Nervii backed off, and instead chose to move toward the center of the wall, where their comrades were having some successes. Lucius saw Vitalis, his blood-speckled face contorted with the battle rage, a dozen blood-covered Roman and Nervii corpses intertwined in death at his feet. He was armed with only a gladius, and he was surrounded by a mass of crouching spear and axe men. The Nervii had succeeded in pushing Vitalis’s party away from the wall, and as the last legionary with him succumbed to a stroke from the longsword of one of the naked warriors, the Nervii officer with the braided hair jumped up onto the wall waving his sword, encouraging his men to close in and take the head of the Roman centurion.
Lucius could see that the group of legionaries fighting on the other flank were hard-pressed with Nervii all around them. No help would come from that side. All of the rage Lucius had felt against his former comrade was suddenly suppressed at that moment, as he watched the brave Vitalis fend off the thrusts of the spearpoints as he had on a dozen battlefield far more important than this one. Lucius’s instincts kicked in, and he sprang into action.
Plucking a javelin from one of the corpses at his feet, Lucius rushed to the aid of the beleaguered centurion. Jovinus and the two other legionaries dutifully followed him. In mid-step, Lucius hurled the javelin at the Nervii officer on the wall. The officer saw it coming at the last moment, and turned his shield to deflect it, but the sheer force of the weapon managed to knock him down. Then, Lucius and his companions were among the spears, jabbing and hacking at the stunned warriors who had not expected an attack from behind. The legionaries left a carpet of bloody, blonde-haired corpses as they made their way to the struggling centurion. Three of them made it, and quickly joined backs with Vitalis to face the enclosing mass of warriors. They deflected thrust after thrust of the Nervii spears, and blocked the incessant blows of the axes. They ducked behind their shields more often than they fought back. Lucius saw the wild, tattooed face of a yelling spearman appear in the gap between his and Jovinus’s shields. Lucius quickly drove his sword into the man’s open mouth and watched the fierce eyes instantly transform to a look of shock. When Lucius yanked the blade out, a dozen loose teeth came with it, clattering onto a dropped shield at the man’s feet. The next time the gap appeared between the shields, the man’s face was gone.
A legionary cried out behind Lucius, and Lucius knew that one of his comrades had been severely wounded. The spears were pressing in on them. They were still outnumbered, and it was only a matter of time before they succumbed to the spearpoints that were now thrusting by the dozen at the space inside the shields. Lucius turned and locked eyes briefly with Vitalis, both of their faces splattered with blood and both wild with the madness of battle.
“You’re a bloody bastard!” Lucius spat at the centurion, as he ducked another jab from a spear. “A bloody lying bastard!”
Vitalis did not respond. He stared into Lucius’s eyes for an instant longer before crying out in a rage and using his gladius to lop off a set of probing Nervii fingers that had wrapped around the top of his shield. Lucius returned his attention to the enemy in front of him. The press of the enemy on the shields was enormous. Their blood was up. They smelled victory and knew the Romans’ fall was inevitable. Lucius knew it, too, and fully expected the next push of the enemy to break him and his comrades apart that they might be individually hacked to death.