Eagle in the Snow: A Novel of General Maximus and Rome's Last Stand

Now he was saying, “You must learn to use your heads and take it slowly. If you know what you are doing, a cavalry charge is the slowest thing in the world. The temptation is always there to hurry when you see them massed to your front—but don’t. Never break from an amble until you are within their killing range. Outside that you are safe, so don’t waste your horse’s energy before it is needed. Don’t let your horse run unbalanced; get him collected well before you are in the killing range. Then, when you hear the order, move straight into a canter, but still keep him collected. Don’t try to outpace your left and right men; you are not having a race for a jug of wine. Watch them out of the corner of your eye. Keep in line and keep tightly together. And if you are going down hill, remember that those of your men riding big horses will have more difficulty bringing them down than those on the smaller animals. You must watch for that always. This is the most difficult part—when you can see their arrows or spears flickering towards you, and men and horses are going down. Then, you want to get on and be into them. You must resist the temptation. Stay together and wait patiently for that last trumpet. Then, when you hear it—sixty yards from the enemy line— throw your hands forward and break into the gallop. You will hit them with the most tremendous crash and you won’t have much time to use your weapons, so you must kill or maim with every stroke. There is no second chance. The man you miss will be behind you before you can strike again and he, then, may well kill a comrade of yours in the second rank. Now, if you hit them properly in a collected line, they will break; they always do. Remember to ride straight through them and out the other side. That is when you break up. Get well clear and then rally on the trumpets and the banner. You must rally quickly, because then you are at your weakest, facing the wrong way and surrounded by the enemy who, even if wounded and in flight, will still try to take advantage of you. So, rally quickly, reform and charge back while your horses are still warm; and, whatever you do, don’t stop to pick up a wounded comrade. If you try that you only endanger your mounted friends and lessen your own chances of getting back. The dismounted must look to themselves.” He paused. He said, “It is really quite easy.”

“How long does it take, sir?” said a young decurion.

“You can cover two hundred yards in thirty seconds, easily. It will be all over in five minutes. So you really have very little to do. But, your foot-soldier has to learn to fight for fifteen minutes at a stretch. That is a long time.”

Quintus saw me and saluted, as though I was a stranger.

I said, “You make it all sound so easy.”

“The difficult things always do.”

“You are a good soldier, Quintus.”

He did not smile. He said, “I understand horses; that is all. I am not so good with people.”

When August came I received a letter from Honorius. He regretted the inability of his generals to send troops from Italia but, as I knew so well, Stilicho handled these things for him; and besides, he had many problems on his hands. He reposed great confidence in me. He did not think the situation was so serious as I had suggested. There had been such alarms before. If, however, I felt I needed more support he was certain I could rely on the co-operation of Chariobaudes—a most excellent man. It was a relief to know that the barbarians were no longer massed along the Danubius, for Italia had suffered terribly on the last occasion. He had great hopes that Alaric would prove a powerful ally in the east. The news from Britannia was disturbing. Its army, of course, had always a bad reputation for mutinous behaviour. Perhaps, when things were quiet in Gaul again, I would cross to the island with full powers and bring it back in obedience to Rome. He had great confidence in me still and, as a mark of his regard, I was appointed Comes Galliarum, with all the appropriate allowances. Did I know that the climate of Ravenna was excellent for the breeding habits of chickens. . .?

I told Quintus that he was now officially Master of Horse and that the appointment—it had been a joke between us once—had been ratified by the Emperor. He did not smile. He thanked me stiffly and went to his hut. Once, he would have enjoyed the letter with me. But now—now, we had nothing to say to each other.