They stood in rows, five to six men thick. Damp, misty air was sullen. Breeze of autum made men shiver, coldness crawled through lorica segmentata. Weird noises and howls had ecchoed at woods whole night. Men from North Africa, men from Sicily, men from Hispania had never experienced scenery like this. Woods were so dark and thick that they'd swallow armies without a hiccup. Tired and hungry they waited commands from their officers.
- Any signs of scouts?
- No. They left at morning. They should have been back by now.
Around centurias crews of Scorpios made their weapons ready. Auxiliaries stringed their bows. Legionaries made final checks on their gear.
- Horse! watchman shouted.
Lonely horse rambled through field of stumps, left after cutting trees for fortress. It had a rider.
Closer could be seen that rider had no head. His torso was strapped on the back of the horse.
- Movement!
A lonely man walked from same direction as the horse had come. He carried something in his hand. The man stopped just out of range of bows. He threw the thing on ground. Scout's bloody, liveless head rolled.
The man started shouting, sounding angry and arrogant at same time. He had a maille and colourful tunic. A sword hung on his waist.
Suddenly he stopped. Legionaries became. Silence continued couple heartbeats. Then, in shadow of the woods started howls, high pitch yells and deep growls. They came closer. Centurias shouted orders. Archers ran in front of ranks. Their hearts beated like they would like to tear from the chest. Fear and excitement flowed through veins.
Tree line started to crowd with warriors. Different clans separated from the rest, bearing colours and marks of kin. Some had shields. Most had spears. Some had big axes. With many hung smaller axes by belts. Leaders and best of hirds carried swords and helmets with nacelles.
Fortress was surrounded. Outer ring was made of barbarians, inner ring out of legionaries. The center was the fortress. Scorpios were winded up. Long steel arrows could pierce through a horse. Crews' muscles were warmed up. Their brothers in arms standing down below had had no change yet to warm themselves in cold. It seemed likely it was going to change.
- Can you hit the guy? NCO asked his Scorpio launcher.
- Perhaps. That bastard is nearly too far away.
The old man grapped his shield and draw out his sword. Barbarians leaped forward launching shivering howl.
- Archers! Pull! Launch!
- Scorpios! Launch!
Dozens of arrows flew through air. Archers launched them as rapidly as they could get strings pulled all the way back.
- Archers! Back!
After command archers started back pedaling and running. Scorpios continued to rain death above tribesmen. Heavy arrows could do serious harm even against shields.
- Prepare Pilums!
Legionaries grabbed their javelins and waited.
- Launch!
Enemy's archers stood at tree line and launched wild shots towards Romans. At that distance they couldn't do much harm through lamellar armor and shields, but there were always those lucky hits.
Tribesmen threw their own javelins and others started to poke with their spears. Roman shield wall stood unbreachable. Without form and order barbarians tried to find a way to bust war machine's defences.
As shafts broke and despair rose, they pulled their axes and swords and begun hacking. Sharp gladii stroke like vipers behind the scutums. Wild swings of savages met cool, calm thrusts. Most of tribesmen had little armor, so they fell fast. Hirdsmen were much touher for their maille protected them against swords. Still, slowly but surely hirdsmen after another begun fall, when wounds to arms and legs made them weak. Bodies of fallen hindered movement.
Tribesmen started to fall back. They were followed by accurate shots from Scorpios. Eventually there were only legionaries and wounded and dead barbarians. Field was full of gear, dropped or thrown away. When everything seemed clear, centurias ordered to check enemy bodies. Those still alive were killed, unless they seemed valuable hostages.
The battle was over, but war would continue to the death or victory.
* (Opening scene from Gladiator, made a little bit more realistic. No fire arrows, no armor cleaving swords, no odd leather armor, no dark furs.)