Mistle & Oak – Part 1 (An Infamy battle)

Septimus had known this was going to be a fool’s errand. “Follow the stream and scout-out the shore-line”, the Legate had said! “The British won’t be expecting us”, he had also said!. Well two of his lads were now dead as a result, along with four Auxilia troopers and eight of the Auxilia archers were missing! For what? OK, he had counted at least eight dead British warriors and his archers appeared to have accounted for at least as many of the damned British slingers, but they were still no closer to knowing the British strength along the shoreline.

Why had he allowed the Legate to persuade him to follow the stream? It had just divided his forces. Initially things had looked good. A decent show of force had caused one British Warband to pop-up in the hills to the East, jeering feebly from their hilltop. His archers had driven off one group of slingers, scouted the wood to the North of the ford, thereby allowing his legionaries to cross the ford and head toward the single native hut. However, another group of slingers had then popped-up to the rear of his legionaries, but these too were quickly dealt with by his archers, dashing to the other side of the wood and peppering this new group of slingers with very well placed arrows.

In the South, the first warband had finally lumbered off the hill and down into the auxilia. The fight looked tough, but manageable, but then another Warband started to filter down through the trees, to the North of his legionaries, scattering his archers, This forced him to deploy his legionaries into close order line, shields braced, facing this new threat. But just as Septimus thought that this was going to be just another tough day in the legionary meat grinder, a group of British cavalry appeared far to his rear. They splashed across the stream, weaved magically through the marsh, bordering the stream’s Southern bank, then crashed into the rear of the auxilia, breaking their ranks.

So, next time Septimus would do it his way. Not follow the stream, but maybe use it to properly screen one of his flanks. He’d also take another couple of auxilia units, or maybe some cavalry, to better scout out the terrain ahead of him. These British bast**ds would not get the better of Septimus again!?

One thing he did reflect on, was just how slow the British seemed to react to the Roman movements?! He was sure that as his legionaries had surged across the ford, he had heard distant native wailing. It sounded like, “Not another frigging Tempus Fugit….. the Gods must be against us!”. Very odd!?