The Warlord And The Warrior Queen; a hysterical historical by Mastertank1

The Warlord and the Warrior Queen
A Hysterical Historical by Mastertank1

It all happened because the three Roman Legions which held the province of Britain left to support the attempt of their general, Maximus, to make himself Emperor of Rome. In the power vacuum they left behind them, any leader who could established their own little realm, trying to ensure prosperity by providing safety for the working people against the various raiders and predators who sprang up in ever increasing numbers once the Legions were gone.

The tale of what happened has come down to us distorted almost beyond recognition; the output of writers more concerned with romance than with history. The nature and details of events and even the very names of the main players in those events can barely be discerned in the thrilling and stirring epics written about King Arthur Pendragon and the Knights Of The Round Table.

His real name was Artur Pindraeg, son of Utur Pindraeg. When the Legions marched away, never to return, Utur set about gathering a military force and absorbing the other small realms nearby. Artur inherited this realm and continued to expand it. Both were veterans of the auxiliary cavalry forces that served as native adjuncts to the Legions, and stayed behind when the Legions left.

The table was never round, for the idea of equality would never have occurred to any of those involved. The King’s table was a T with a short top bar. The Royals sat at the top of the T, with the rest of the court down the vertical stem. The closer to the top, the higher the individual status.

None of them ever went questing to find the Holy Grail, for the simple reason that none of them were Christians. Christianity had as yet made virtually no inroads into Britain; it was JUST beginning to gain power in the old provinces around Rome the city and Byzantium, and was still suffering frequent official persecutions even there.

The character we know as Sir Lancelot Du Lac was known to his contemporaries as Chief Great Lance Of The Marsh Folk. Great Lance = Lancelot, get it? For a time, he was Artur’s chief ally, but never a member of the court, and never Guinivere’s lover. Great Lance did not sit out Artur’s great final battle; he actually betrayed his old ally by switching sides, which was not a surprise to Artur and quite a part of the normal course of business for that time and place. Incidentally, he was named for his war weapon, not for his amorous weapon.

Guinivere’s real name was Queen Guine Al’vire, a rare ruling warrior queen of a Scottish/Pictish tribal area south of Hadrian’s Wall. Guine was never Artur’s queen. Like Great Lance, she was an independent ally. Also like Great Lance, she switched sides to stand against Artur in his last great fight. As with Great Lance, nothing personal; strictly business.

Guine did disappear after the great battle, but not into a nunnery or convent. There were no such establishments anywhere on earth at that time. Our story is the tale of what actually did happen to her that day on the great and deadly battlefield. She was NOT slain in combat.

Guine’s realm was at the western end of the wall, her land’s north end where Carlisle stands today, it’s south end just north of Great Lance’s Marsh People, who were on the border between modern North Wales and England proper, with his seat at modern Chester. Artur’s capital of Cannulanis was the center of a fairly sizeable kingdom straddling the modern border between England and South Wales, about half the way along a line from today’s Wroxeter to modern Gloucester. The romance writers have confused Cannulanis with the older, larger, but unfortified and highly vulnerable first capital of the Roman province of Britain, Camulodunum. That’s why they called it Camelot. Today Camulodunum that was is called Colchester.

The mighty antagonist who faced Artur that day has been called Modred or Mordred by the romance scribblers. He was really not related to Artur by blood in any way. He was King Mor The Feared of southern Scotland, Laird of Lairds, war chief of many clans.

Many great warrior clans, both of the highlands and the low, marched with Mor’s banners. Clan McAlpin, Clan MacGregor, Clan Campbell, Clan Bruce, Clan Roy, MacTavish, McQuarry, MacDougal, MacDowell, McClendon, McClernand, McCoy and many others followed him to war.

The single greatest player in the drama that unfolded was never mentioned at all in the romances like “Mort D’Arthur” and it’s ilk. The reason for that was his nationality. At the time when the romances were written, more than a thousand years after the events took place, no writer would have even considered for a second according a place as anything but a villain or a victim to a Jew. “Ivanhoe” by Robert Burns is a perfect example.

This unsung and unwritten player was Saul Ben Baraak, or Saul Son Of Thunder. How he came to be in Britain was a tale in itself.

Forty years before, as a just bar mitzvahed 13 year old, his immense size and strength had gained him a place in the army of the latest rebel to mistake himself for the messiah and try to throw the Romans out of Palestine. As with all the earlier mistaken messiahs, the Pharisee Rabbis did what they could to shield him from the Romans and their lapdogs, the Sadducee Priesthood. At the old and ill-omened battlefield called Betar, the leader, whose name has not even come down to us, was defeated by the Legions. His forces died fighting, to almost the last man.

One of the last men was the by then 14 year old, six foot tall, 240 pound Saul. Wounded by Pilum spears, javelins, swords, and even one of the huge, normally deadly bolts flung by a scorpion war engine, he remained on his feet. Shield on arm, sword in hand, helmet askew, screaming defiance. Saul remained full of fight until the Primus Pilus of the VIth Legion Victrix, a phlegmatic old veteran named Clodius Glabrous, quietly walked up behind him. Glabrous flipped Saul’s helmet all the way off with tip of his Pilum spear, then whipped it end for end and cracked the wooden butt into Saul’s temple. Saul went down like a sack of potatoes.

When he awakened, they gave him a choice. He could join the Sixth Legion Victrix, the famous and ever victorious Sixth, or be crucified along with the seventeen other survivors of the rebel army. The others were not being offered any choice. They had not been deemed worthy.

Saul served with the mighty Sixth for thirty long years. He reached his full size of 6’1” tall and 270 muscular pounds at age 15, and stayed there. He had risen through the ranks to eventually become Primus Pilus, the senior centurion of the Legion. He had served in every corner of the Empire. Wherever a rebellion broke out or barbaric invaders broke in, the Sixth could be found, crushing the foe and rebuilding what was destroyed, setting right what had been made wrong. Wherever he went, Saul keenly observed and remembered.

Saul could have retired after 25 years, but he heard that the Sixth was to be sent to garrison the eastern end of Hadrian’s wall. He had not seen Britannia province, and wanted to, so he stayed. For some unknown reason, he fell in love with the chilly northern land. He had started to lay plans to stay for the rest of his life.

The other two Legions in Britain were the XII th Fulmina Jovensis and the XXIst Britannia. That made the VI th the senior legion as soon as it arrived in province. Saul, as the senior line grade officer of the senior Legion, wielded more authority than the tribunes, twelve per legion, who were his nominal superiors. He traveled among all the garrisons, inspecting, reporting, and recommending changes.

It was as part of his plan to stay for life in northern Britain that he learned the names and ranks of all the men in the three legions who had completed 25 or more years of service. He had spoken to all of them, and brought them all into his plan. It was also a part of his plan to shift all of those men until each of the three legions had an over strength reserve cohort (battalion) made up entirely of men who had the legal right to retire whenever they chose to do so.

As Senior Primus Pilus of the Army in Britain, Saul knew well in advance that as soon as word came of the death of the old Emperor, the provincial military commander, Maximus, would call the Legions together and march them away to try to seize the Imperial throne. He also shrewdly estimated that there would be decades, perhaps a century of civil war. He was sure that the Legions, once gone, would not return in his lifetime if ever.

The first word to come from southward was that the old Emperor was very sick, perhaps on his deathbed. That was when Saul sent the word to his men. In the two days that followed, more than three thousand veterans with over 25 years service presented their formal demands to separate from the service. Even though it was not required, each man presented a new recruit to take his place, thus obtaining a substantial bounty in addition to the 25 years worth of deductions from pay withheld for retirement. Some of these men had served in the auxiliary forces but most were legionaries.

The Legates, commanders of Legions, were surprised to see the entire reserve cohort of each Legion, 900 strong, retire at the same time, including the Decurions who led squads of ten and the Centurions who led Centuries of from 80 to 100 men. Even the Cohortarchs, the senior Centurions of the respective Cohorts, had retired. The Legates were still more surprised when the retired men formed up again outside the garrison gates and marched off in formation, just as sharp as when they were part of their Legion. They were headed for the Colonia of Eboracum, modern York.

A Colonia was an area of land in a Roman province which was set aside to be sold only to retiring veterans. Thus the Colonia would be a naturally strong defensive area in time of emergency, with most of the adult males veteran Legionaries. The old soldier’s sons also constituted a fertile recruiting ground for new legionaries. Interestingly, none of the replacement recruits presented by the retiring soldiers had been from the northern York and Lincoln Colonia. They had been drawn from the western Colonia at Gloucester and the southern one at Colchester.

Now it was ten years later, and the precarious peace that Artur had established across western England was about to be shattered. King Mor had bribed Queen Guine and War Chief Great Lance to switch sides. When the legions had marched away, Guine had taken over the western end of Hadrian’s wall, keeping it manned against the northern barbarians. Now, she had opened the gates and let the wild clansmen through, and her troops marched with theirs, picking up their indiscipline and laxity of technique. So did Great Lance’s men.

The two sides met at a place called Gabaldon Heath. The great conflict which would be called the battle of five armies was about to begin.

The first army of the five was Artur’s. He had 7000 spearmen on foot and 1000 medium to light armored cavalry armed with sword and javelin.

The second army was Mor’s. He brought 12000 wild Scots on foot, armed with an equally wild variety of big and small shields, spears, swords, axes, maces, hammers and even clubs. He rode with 200 heavy to medium armored horsemen of his personal guard.

The third of the five armies was Guine’s. She had a force very similar to Artur’s but smaller, with 4500 spearmen and 500 medium to light armored horse.

The fourth of the five was Great Lance’s army. Again, their equipment was like the equipment of the followers of Artur or Guine, but the proportions were different. Great lance had 1500 spearmen on foot, but the equipment of his 500 cavalry ranged from light to heavy, with as many as he could get of the heavy. There were about 200 of those.

The three northern armies met near the then village of Lancaster in Guine’s territory and began to march southeastward with the aim of sacking Londinium, the richest and least defended target in all Britain. Everyone knew that the idealistic Artur would try to intercept them at Gabaldon.

Artur expected to be joined by the troops of a number of lesser lords enroute, and so he was, but not as many as he had hoped. They totaled only 3000 foot and 200 horse. Their equipment was varied, according to the means of the individual man and his lord. When the four armies began to line up on opposite sides of the heath north of Gabaldon village, Artur was outnumbered by 19000 to 11000.

Both sides were surprised and a little disturbed to see that the low hill in the southeast corner of the heath was now topped by a full scale Legionary castra, the fortified camp built every night by a Roman Legion on the march. They had all heard rumors of a new legion being created by a retired Centurion up in the York Colonia, but none of them had believed it. Now they began to.

The banner that floated above the Legate’s pavilion in the center of the castra bore a silver Pilum spear crossed with a golden thunderbolt on a field of blue, with the legend “Primus Pilus Fulminus” in black on a white scroll. That was Latin for “First Thunder Spear”.

In the ten years since the Legions had left, Saul had used the knowledge and ideas gathered from all over the empire to build a prosperous and secure kingdom around Colonia York. The agriculture practiced by his farmers was more diverse and therefore both more productive and more secure against drought, cold, or excessive rain than that in any other part of Britain. This was due to Saul’s many detailed observations, made across his decades of service all over the Empire, and now imparted to his farmers.

Almost all of Saul’s farmers were retired legionaries. They were stronger men in far better health than the average farmer in Britain at the time, despite their ages. Every one of them had a full set of Legionary leather field armor with sewn in plates of iron or bronze stored in his home, along with a Legionary helmet, a Legionary curved rectangular shield, and a set of Legionary weapons. Each home had a Pilum, two lighter javelins and a short stabbing sword called a gladius.

Those were the troops Saul left behind when he led his standing army out to fight. They defended the people, who gathered in a vast stone built fortress that was really a castra scaled up to ten times the dimensions, and therefore enclosing 100 times the area. Inside, stone buildings in neatly organized streets took the place of the rows of leather tents found in a marching camp. There were abundant wells and springs within the walls, and stored food and fodder to withstand a five year siege.

The standing army Saul led to fight enemies away from home was something else again. Having recruited veterans as officers and the sons of veterans as troops, Saul had equipped and trained them in the fashion of the tougher Legions of the early Empire or late Republic.

Instead of the leather jerkins reinforced with plates, every man in the Field Legion Of York wore a Lorica Segmentata, an articulated structure of overlapping curved steel plates that enclosed the entire torso and shoulders in protection while allowing freedom of movement.

They had steel greaves on their shins, steel strapped cuisses protecting their thighs, steel vambraces guarding their forearms. They had one set of boots for the march, but if they had time to change they put on fighting boots for combat. These boots had steel plates in the soles, steel cups for the heels and toes in between the inner and outer layers of leather. Their helmets had hinged cheekplates and solid nose bars.

Their weapons were the same as those of the farmer/soldiers of the home guard but of higher quality. Numbers for numbers, they were the deadliest body of fighting men on the planet, and they knew it. There were 10 cohorts of 600 foot each, deliberately overstrength for a Legion. They also had a cohort of cavalry and a cohort of engineers, for a total of 7200 men.

That Legion was what now emerged from the castra. Saul himself led a half cohort of 300 heavy cavalry to confer with Artur. They concluded a hasty alliance as Saul’s 6000 heavy infantry lined up to form the right flank of the combined southern army.

Seven cohorts set up abreast, each with two centuries in the first line, two in the second and two in the third. They left century sized gaps in each line, staggered so that the resulting formation resembled a segment of checkerboard three squares deep by fourteen across. Each century stood in a block ten men wide by ten deep.

The other three cohorts, composed of the most battle hardened veterans, formed a reserve fourth line in cohort blocks, ready to go where needed. Each cohort block was three centuries across by two deep, with no gaps between them.

This was the organization of the old Roman legions, those of the late Republic and the early Empire. These trained formations were endowed with tactical strength and flexibility not seen in the 400 years since Rome first conquered Britain. Saul had gotten the idea from history books he had read during his long years with the VIth Legion.

Meanwhile, the walls of the castra were manned by the engineer cohort. These men were experts in all kinds of building and demolition. They were especially adept in the construction and use of war engines. They held the castra, armed with catapults, ballistae and scorpions.

The smaller engines were mounted directly on the fighting step inside the palisade. The larger engines, throwing heavier missiles to longer ranges, were placed on the platforms of the gate and corner turrets, or on the ground just behind the walls. Most were emplaced to shoot across the width of the heath where battle was about to be joined.

The cavalry were also unlike any other on the field. While fighting the Persians beyond the Empire’s eastern border, Saul had seen Bactrian and Scythian horsemen using stirrups. No one else’s cavalry had stirrups at the time.

Saul had made a point, at no little personal risk, of acquiring a saddle with stirrups. He had carried it with him in the Legion baggage wagons until he retired. Now, lord of his own domain, he had arranged for craftsmen in leather to make copies and had equipped and trained his cavalry with them.

Cavalry with no stirrups were limited in their choice of weapons. They could use light thrown javelins, light bows that were useable from a seated position, and short thrusting swords. The only men who could use a lance were those like Great Lance, with exceptionally strong legs for gripping the horse so that the impact would not throw the rider to the ground.

Saul’s cavalry, not just equipped but trained with stirrups, were a far different matter. They were all equipped as heavy cavalry, rode large horses with horse armor and wore heavy armor themselves.

Above all, half of them, 300, bore long, heavy steel tipped lances. The ability to brace their feet in the stirrups let them remain mounted during the impact of driving home a lance charge.

The other 300 were armed with the powerful Scythian war bow, requiring that they stand in the stirrups to shoot. The Legions had learned the hard way that a shaft from one of those bows would go right through any armor less strong than the full Lorica.

All of Saul’s cavalry carried heavy slashing sabers. The stirrups allowed them to brace themselves enough to deliver a really damaging slashing blow without tumbling from the saddle. Their combat value was easily ten times that of any other cavalry on the field that day, man for man.

As his infantry took their assigned positions and formations, Saul told his cavalry Tribune (a Tribune was the commander of a cohort) that the left flank would be secured by their ally Artur. Therefore, the cavalry Tribune was to use his men to cover the gap from the infantry right flank to the walls of the castra. The armored horse archers formed a forward line with the lancers in reserve.

The odds were now drastically changed. Instead of 19000 to 11000, there were 18000 plus in the southern armies against just over 19000 from the north. At Saul’s suggestion, Artur would concentrate his 11000 against the enemy right wing, Great Lance and Guine, while Saul held off Mor’s 12000. Knowing the reputation of the Roman Legions and having fought alongside them as a leader of auxiliary cavalry, Artur was confident that Saul could do what he said. So was Saul.

At this point the three northern leaders all heartily wished Mor had not marched south. The odds were entirely too close to risk so much on. Given the need to display reckless personal courage in order to retain control of their realms, none of them could back down now.

The northern army array was this, beginning at the right of their line, opposite the southern left. The flank was held by Great Lance’s 1500 foot soldiers, formed into three ‘battles’, each 50 men wide by ten deep, directly behind each other at 100 yard intervals.

To their left stood Great Lance himself, at the head of his 500 cavalry. To his left were Guine’s 500 cavalry, told to follow whatever Great Lance did.

To their left were Guine’s 4500 spearmen. Their three battles were each 150 men wide by ten deep, with the interval the same 100 yards. Next stood Guine, proudly afoot and barefoot, her 100 man personal guard armed with two handed waraxes standing around her and her standard bearer. That was the right wing of the northern force.

Because it turned out to have a bearing on what transpired, I shall pause here, with the reader’s indulgence, to describe in detail the appearance of Queen Guine Al’vire. She was renowned far and wide for both beauty and ferocity.

She stood 5’9”, which was very tall for a woman of her time and place. Her hair, which fell in a long double wave to the backs of her knees, was a bright, glowing red. The exact hue was about halfway between what we would call fire red and brick red. On this day it was confined in a bun on top of her head, as a cushion for her gilded steel helmet.

Her skin was a flawless, enticingly smooth cream color from head to toe. Rumor originating from her body servant maidens said that it was incredibly soft and silky to the touch.

There were no rumors originating from her lovers, because, at age 27, she had had none. She was a virgin queen, shamelessly using her own highly desirable person as a bargaining chip in negotiations with other rulers.

Her eyes famously gleamed with the green fire of the finest and dearest emeralds. Her pixie-like face, heart shaped, gave rise to tales of one or more elves in her ancestry.

Guine’s torso and breast were protected but not concealed by her closely form fitting royal armor. That shape was as athletic as one would look for in a life long warrior, but still most promisingly feminine, with firm, high, round breasts, a lean and muscled abdomen, and broad hips fronting deliciously rounded buttocks, all encased in closely form fitted silver-gilt steel plate.

Guine’s legs and feet were bare to allow freedom of movement. She prided herself on her speed as a runner. The muscularly feminine shape of those legs was exquisite, shaped as much by the day-long ritual dances she engaged in as part of her Druidic faith as by her running. Her feet were exquisite in form, wide for their short length, with amazingly high arches and short stemmed, rounded toes.

The only thing that might be said to mar her appearance was the thick layer of callous that covered the entire bottom of each foot, even the arches and stems of the toes. This was the result of her barefoot dancing and running, but even these calluses were uniform, with a smooth surface only slightly darker than the rest of her skin, and so not at all unsightly.

To resume our narrative; to Guine’s left was the center of the northern line. This was 6000 of King Mor's Scots. They were grouped (organized would be far too strong a word to describe their condition) in three battles like their allies. In this case each battle was 200 men wide by ten men deep, with battles behind each other at 100 yards distance.

Next, Mor bestrode his mighty charger, lance in hand, in full armor, with the 200 heavy cavalry of his personal guard at his back. To his left were his remaining 6000 Scottish foot, in a formation similar to that of the center wing, and forming the left wing of the northern army.

There was a very significant difference between the infantry force of the northern right wing, compared to the left and center. The right wing infantry were all armed with six foot long spears and wore thick leather jerkins for armor. They each bore a long knife as a backup weapon, had an iron banded leather cap for head protection, and stout leather leggings and shoes.

The infantry of the center and left were as motley a crew as one might haply picture. Some carried wooden clubs, with or without chunks of rock or metal embedded in the wood. Some had axes, of as many different sizes and shapes as there were axe men.

Some carried long knives or daggers, some had swords. The swords ranged from short blades barely larger than knives up to massive two handed Claidheammor greatswords. Their defense ran a gamut from tiny round targes through middling sized bucklers to yard wide circle shields after the Viking style.

Their clothing was equally motley. Footgear was generally rags or furs wrapped around the feet and secured with rawhide thongs. Clothing itself went from nonexistent to fully wrapped tartan cloth or abbreviated kilts. This would all affect the battle.

Arrayed opposite these northern armies were the forces of the south. On the left stood the 3000 spearmen of the lesser lords who had joined Artur on the march, in three battles 100 men wide by ten deep. The interval between battles was only 50 yards.

To their right were the 200 cavalry of the lesser lords, attached to Artur’s 1000 horsemen. Here Artur took his stand, at the head of his 100 personal heavy cavalry, known as the companions after Alexander the Great’s personal guard.

To his right, his own 7000 foot soldiers were organized in three battles of 2000, each 200 men wide by ten deep, with a block of 1000 men, ranged 50 across by 20 deep, in reserve.

To the right of this force was the infantry of the Legion Of York, in formation already described. Prolonging their line to the right and angled sharply forward were the 300 heavy armored horse archers ranked 3 deep in open order so all could shoot. Behind the center of this line were the heavy armored lancers, formed in a sharp, solid wedge. Saul Ben Baraak, the son of thunder, sat his immense warhorse at the head of the wedge.

Saul wore a Lorica with extensions to cover his upper arms, linked to his vambraces by pauldrons that covered his elbows. The cuisses that protected his massive thighs were reinforced with curved steel plates. His knees were protected by steel cops, his vambraces and greaves backed by chain mail to cover the backs of his forearms and his calves.

Saul wore articulated steel shoes and gauntlets, with steel plate soles and steel mesh palms. His bull neck was guarded by a flap of chain mail hanging from his helmet.

Saul’s lance, unlike any other on the field, had a steel rod running the length of its center, and emerging at the tip where it formed a needle pointed, razor edged blade. His shield was a round steel plate, the edged curved away from him and razor sharp. The shield boss was an eight inch long square section spike with sharpened edges and point. His sword was a double-curved Yataghan from the mountains of Persia, with a Gladius worn as a shortsword.

Hung from the back of his saddle were a saddleaxe and war sledge with tough, flexible handles of springwood. On the front of his saddle a sheath held a Scythian warbow and a quiver held 32 arrows. Saul meant to stay back and command until the pivotal moment arrived, then lead the deciding blow in person. He also meant to take full part in the fighting, and to survive the battle in good health.

Even Saul’s immense stallion was armed. His iron horseshoes were clad with sharp steel blades. There was a six inch dagger blade protruding from the steel plate that rode between the stallions eyes while a twelve inch blade stuck out from the horse’s chest plate. The mighty war horse, ancestor of many of the great destriers ridden by the knights of a later age, had been trained to use these weapons.

King Mor, who had never seen or read about this kind of Legion in action, was confident that his Scottish clansmen could overwhelm it before Artur’s numbers could overthrow his allies, Great Lance and Guine. Then he would come to their aid. Mor ordered the battle horns winded; the northern armies advanced to the attack.

Great Lance moved his second battle to stand to the right of his first, so as not to be outflanked. He threw the third battle in at the start, hoping to hold the 3000 spears of the lesser lords on Artur’s left at bay with his 1500 until Mor had time to crush Saul.

Great Lance led the cavalry forward and was met charge for charge, the southern horse led by Artur’s seneschal, Kay. Here the 1200 to 1000 advantage of the southerners was offset by the higher proportion of heavy armor among the northerners.

Guine had to hold off 7000 spears with 4500, so she brought one third of her rear battle up to extend her front line, and another third to extend her second line. She then threw the two extended lines against Artur’s forces with only 500 men in reserve. Artur sent his second battle to reinforce the first, but kept the entire second battle and his reserve half battle back to used as required, a total of 3000 men in reserve.

If things progressed normally, Artur would win the battle by midafternoon. The hopes of the northern alliance lay with King Mor’s army. They counted on his 12000 clansmen to sweep away Saul’s 6000 legionaries and encircle Artur.

Saul had planned a number of nasty surprises for Mor and his men, and the first was quickly revealed. Mor sent all 3 battles of his center and left wings in together, hoping to overwhelm his foe. They discovered that the ground before and to the right of the Legion had been thickly sown with small caltrops.

A caltrop is a bit of twisted iron with four sharp points, arranged so that when tossed casually to the ground, it always rests on three with the fourth pointing straight up. These were small enough not to bother shod horses. For men whose footwear ranged from nothing to a tied on fur, they were a crippling distraction.

As the advance of Mor’s men halted amid screams of pain and surprise (the caltrops had been well hidden by the short grass on the heath) Saul’s second surprise was unveiled. His front row of centuries, 1400 men, hurled a volley of heavy Pila. These caught in shields or wounded the shieldless, but the shaft bent so that they could not be thrown back, and then weighed down the shield.

This exposed Mor’s men to the two volleys of lighter javelins that followed. The front row of centuries then executed a smart about face and marched ten ranks distance to the rear, while the centuries of the second row marched straight forward ten ranks distance. Each row passed neatly through the gaps in the other.

The former first row then faced left, marched a distance equal to ten files of men, faced right again and marched forward ten ranks. They then about faced again. While they did this, the original third row of centuries had also marched straight forward ten ranks.

The former front row was now the rear row; the original center row was in front and the starting rear row was in the middle. Runners from the supply carts came forward with bundles of Pila and javelins to rearm the men of the formerly front but now rear line.

The second line of centuries now threw their Pila and javelins, and the maneuver was executed again. This was the deadly dance of the Roman Legion. The shower of thrown spears would go on until either the enemy broke and fled, supplies of spears were exhausted, or the enemy line closed with the Legion.

When any of those things took place, the Legionaries closed with the shield and gladius. The whole line in unison would take one step forward with a stamp, stab with the gladius, punch with the shield, and repeat. The Legion functioned like a great mincing machine. With armored plates in the soles of their fighting boots, they could ignore the caltrops.

Of course, part of Mor’s left wing extended beyond the line of the legion. They were held up by the caltrops until Saul’s third surprise was revealed. They learned why each of his 300 horse archers carried a huge hamper of arrows instead of a normal quiver. Each man could loose 12 aimed shots per minute!

While Mor’s flankers tried to recoil from the field of caltrops, they were struck by a horizontal sleet of 3600 arrows every minute. After a couple of minutes of that, they were wavering. Mor’s Scots were as brave as any fighters on earth, but to see their comrades cut down in windrows while out of reach and unable to fight back was more than they could take for long.

Saul now unleashed his fourth surprise. The engineer cohort joined the party.
Shooting from the safety of the walled castra, they sent scorpion bolts and stones up to five pounds from the light catapults and ballistae into the left flank of Mor’s army. The medium catapults and ballistae sent flung spears and stones up to 30 pounds into Mor’s center.

The heavy artillery, large catapults, onagers and mangonels inside the castra, hurled either single boulders or baskets of smaller rocks weighing up to 100 pounds per load flying into the right hand end of Mor’s Scots. This was too much for them. Mor’s army broke, and they fled in disorder toward their camp, instinctively hoping to rally there.

Saul judged that the time had come for the decisive blow. He issued his orders and moved.

Saul sent his horse archers to pursue and harass the fleeing Scots. He ordered the three lines of centuries to close up the gaps and chase the enemy closely. They would follow them through the gates of their camp to ensure that they could not rally.

Saul led his 300 heavy armored lancers across the field from far left to just left of center, steadily increasing the pace, until they crashed into the flank of Guine’s spearmen where they struggled with Artur’s. The three reserve cohorts, still in their massed cohort blocks, piled in behind the lancers.

When Guine ordered her reserve in to try to restore the situation, Saul unleashed his final surprise; he ordered the handlers to release the dogs.
Some Roman Legions, but by no means all, included a couple of squads of expert dog handlers and a large pack of war dogs. The dogs they handled were a special breed. They were to become the ancestors of familiar modern breeds like the Great Pyrenees, the Hungarian Kuvash, the Saint Bernard, and the Bernese Mountain Dog. The purest form among their descendants, however, is the huge and scary looking Neapolitan Mastiff.

The dogs of Saul’s Legion were huge, shaggy, fierce beasts. The females averaged 180 pounds, the males 220. Their jaws were like dinner plates full of long sharp teeth, closed by vast muscles that stood out like cables on the canine warrior’s necks. They could take an unprotected leg off at mid thigh, an arm at the shoulder. They could crush the bones of a limb clad in chain mail with one swift bite.

Saul’s Legion had half a century of handlers and at the command to loose the pack, they sent 360 dogs charging at Guine’s reserve. Some of the men broke and ran before the dogs even made contact. Nothing they did made a difference.

The dogs had been war trained. If the spears were aimed low, the dogs leapt for the throat. If the spears were aimed higher, the dogs ducked under and went for the legs. Within minutes, the 500 man reserve was literally dogmeat.

Saul had driven his lancers clear through the left rear corner of Guine’s spearmen. He intended to lead them against Great Lance’s cavalry next, but he was distracted. He caught sight of Guine.

A corner of Saul’s lance charge had swept away most of Guine’s axemaster guard. In the swirling action, she had lost her helmet. Standing there, bareheaded, barelegged and barefoot, trying to rally her troops, she was magnificent, and so beautiful it almost stopped his breath. Saul changed his plans.

Handing his lance to an aide and drawing his own warbow, Saul methodically cut down the last of Guine’s guardsmen. He recased his bow, and then charged down on Guine with no weapon out but his gauntleted hands.

Seeing him come, Guine cast her spear at him. When Saul batted it aside with an armored hand, Guine turned to run.

Holding the reins with his left hand, Saul plunged the fingers of his right hand into the back of Guine’s armor, gripped hard and hauled her up across his saddle bow. Her struggling and squirming was stopped by a carefully calculated blow to the back of the neck. She would remain unconscious for about two hours.

Turning to his aide, Saul traded Guine for his lance and prepared to resume the main fight, but the battle was over. Artur had proven to be both smart and quick.

Seeing what happened, he had ordered the third battle of the lesser lords in on the far left, his own third battle in on the far right. He called his reserve half battle of 1000 veteran spears to follow as he led his 100 heavy armored horse guards into the swirling cavalry fight in the middle.

Great Lance as well was neither stupid nor slow. Outflanked to both sides, his center collapsing, his last reserve seemingly eaten (they were savaged, but not actually consumed), he gave the only order he sensibly could. He shouted; “Run for your lives! Every man for himself!”

Great Lance escaped by following his own order. He forsook the life of a warrior for that of a Druid priest.

Artur expanded his realm by absorbing those of Great Lance and Guine, and held the west end of the wall against the Scots till he died. Mor fled north with his remnant and was overthrown as a failure at war.

Saul and his men gathered up all the loot of the three enemy camps, and took any valuables from the enemy dead. Then they marched back to their castra. In the morning, they took down the castra and started the march home to Eboracum (York).

Guine disappeared from all public knowledge. Most thought she had died in the battle.

In fact, Guine awakened in the Legate’s pavilion in the castra, clad in only a fine linen undershift, freshly bathed, and bound in a hog-tie position with thick, soft rope. She looked up to see Saul lounging on a Roman couch, sipping some wine and observing her.

She could tell by the scent that he too was freshly bathed. He was clad in a toga of fine cloth, finer than hers, and simple house slippers. She who had been the virgin queen for so long suspected that her status was about to change.

Looking up at Saul, Guine admitted to herself that it had to happen sometime, and with this man it might be less odious than she had feared. He was both handsomer in his face and cleaner in his habits, judging by present circumstances, than any other candidate for her bed who had presented himself. Certainly he surpassed Great Lance, hitherto her best prospect, in both those regards.

Saul’s chestnut brown hair, beard, moustache and eyebrows had gone 60% iron gray, and were all neatly trimmed. His face was broad, even featured and ruggedly handsome. His dark brown eyes held a smoldering fire that Guine found exciting in some strange way.

Saul’s shoulders were startlingly broad, his arms and his chest thick with muscle. There were numerous scars from his hands to his shoulders, telling of many hard fights, but none on his face, which told of luck or skill, or both.

When Saul stood to unwind and discard his toga and slip off the tunic he wore underneath it, the full mountain of the man was revealed. Guine was accustomed to big men, but this Saul was huge. His muscles were not the smooth bulges of the professional athlete or poser for statues; they were the solid slabs of a man who had done long hours of hard work every day for thirty years. His legs were like oak trees, the legs that had carried a 270 pound body as it marched in step with his fellows for untold thousands of miles.

Saul exuded an intense masculinity that Guine had never encountered before. She was deeply impressed by the veritable tapestry of scars which crossed and recrossed in layers all over the front of his body. She was still more impressed when he turned to deposit his tunic on a side table and she saw that there were no scars at all on his back. He had never been wounded while fleeing from a foe, nor had he ever been lashed to discipline him for some transgression. This was a fighter, and a good one. This was a man whose self discipline had eliminated any need for others to discipline him.

Seeing that Guine was awake and regarding him, Saul grinned at her. He sat upright against the back of the couch. Saul slid off a slipper and extended a bare foot to her side. She noticed that the nails were both clean and evenly trimmed. If not for the clear evidence that he was a true warrior, this would have made him seem unmanly by the lights of her people.

Guine then burst into startled laughter, and involuntarily twisted and curled around the point of contact. Saul had just tickled her ribs with his toes!

As a child Guine had always been desperately ticklish, but no one had tickled during the 12 years since she had become queen. She hadn’t even thought about the subject in at least that long, and was dismayed to discover that she was at least as ticklish as ever.

Guine gazed up at Saul in deep embarrassment. Saul reached down, and grasping her by her upper arms he lifted her solid 10 stone as if she weighed nothing at all; this man is STRONG, Guine thought.

Saul deposited Guine on her belly on the couch and began to explore his new toy. His fingers probed gently, almost delicately, visiting every square millimeter of her lovely form. He rolled her from side to side and spun her on her belly, and to Guine’s growing dismay discovered ticklish spots on every part of her, making her giggle and wiggle incessantly.

Guine learned a lot about herself in that half hour. Her ears were ticklish! She was ticklish under her chin, on her throat, and on the sides and back of her neck.

Her arms were only slightly ticklish, except for the insides of her wrists, which were more sensitive. Her chest was not ticklish, but her breasts were extremely ticklish. Her ribs were ticklish from her breastbone all the way around to her spine in the back. Her spine was ticklish!

Her sides and underarms were amazingly ticklish. Her tight belly and groin were very ticklish. Her hips were ticklish. Her thighs were ticklish, extremely on the inner sides, very on the backs, less so on the outer sides and fronts. The fronts of her knees were barely ticklish at all, but the hollows behind them were extremely ticklish.

Guine’s calves were mildly ticklish. To her surprise, her ankles were notably ticklish, and so were the tops and sides of her feet. When Saul began touching the bottoms of Guine’s feet and toes, at first it seemed she was not ticklish there at all, protected by the smooth, uniform layer of tough callous that had grown over years of running about her realm barefoot.

Saul made to lightly brush some dust from her left sole, and made a discovery; touching her callused soles lightly, so that the ridges of his fingerprints vibrated against the ridges of her footprint, made her laugh explosively! Guine’s feet were ticklish all right; perhaps her most ticklish place.

Saul investigated the ticklishness of Guine’s feet. He repeated the light brushing of his fingers over her heels, around the balls of her feet, up and down the flats of her soles. He played with the stems of her toes, and the pads. He found, to his amusement, that the tender spaces in between her toes were not callused at all, and tickling her there drove her crazy, howling with laughter. He found the tips of her toes very ticklish as well.

When his fingertips used the vibrating trick he had come up with by accident on her arches, he hit the hot spot. Within seconds her wild, helpless laughter acquired a note of raw desperation. Saul stopped tickling Guine, and rolled her back onto her knees, making it easier for her to breathe deeply.

That’s when Saul noticed how turned on she was. He grinned. Guine’s nipples were partly erect. Her labia were engorged enough that they were beginning to peek out from the patch of red hair down there. There was even a pleasantly female aroma in the air of the private chamber in the big tent.

While Guine gasped for breath, Saul leaned back and reached out to his work table. Guine looked up to see what he was doing. When a bound woman is being tickled by another person, every move that person makes is of vital interest to her!

He took a tablet of parchment sheets from the table, and a quill pen, and began writing something after dipping the pen in an ink cup. Then, she heard the words he was muttering under his breath. Saul was jotting down notes about her ticklishness! Guine sputtered in outrage.

Oblivious to her anger, or perhaps amused by it but ignoring it, Saul finished taking his notes. He replaced the tablet and quill on the table, put the cap on the ink cup, and paused, struck by sudden inspiration. He picked up two fresh, uncut quills and turned round to face Guine again.

Guine had her breath back now. To her, the ticklish examination of her feet had seemed to last for hours. In reality, only a few minutes worth of sand had fallen through the neck of the big day glass on the corner of the table. She took in sight of a long, silky feather in each of Saul’s hands and the glint in his eye.

Guine began shaking her head in a violent negative. As Saul slowly extended the feathers towards her, he couldn’t repress the evil grin that broke out on his broad, handsome face. The sight of that grin and his manifest intentions were enough to make Guine start to giggle, amid desperate denials;

“NO! Hee hee hee. No, don’t! Not feathers! Heeeee. Please, no, not with those, don’t, hee hee please!”

Then she was laughing out loud and no longer able to form words. The feathers began with her inner thighs, making her wiggle and laugh, and arousing her intensely. She tried to bring her knees together, but Saul lifted his huge right leg up on the couch and blocked her.

The feathers moved up to her groin, and then her hips. She continued to giggle and wiggle and giggle and laugh. She was getting EXTREMELY aroused. Somehow, that wicked grin on Saul’s face only increased her turn-on. Knowing how much he enjoyed her response to his teasing was making her still hotter, and by the great Goddess that grin was so SEXY!

The feathers grazed around her tight belly, across her ribs, but then found her flanks. Guine exploded with laughter, the soft but firm kiss of the feathers relentlessly gliding up and down and up and down her tender sides, over and over and over again.

Guine had never before laughed so hard for so long. It was starting to feel like a slow burn, but somehow a good burn. The torment was sweet, with a strange pleasure of its own, and despite herself Guine was enjoying the tickling. It surely was making her horny.

Like any healthy, normal woman of her age, Guine had a strong sex drive. Like any other horny woman, she had often enough thought about how it might be with one man or another. Unlike most women, she had never once acted on any of those thoughts, always choosing instead to assuage her own needs in private. There had even been times when she wanted a given man badly, but never before had she felt that she NEEDED a man; but she needed Saul now!

Her desire was very specific. Her need was not just for release. It was not just for sex with another person. It was not just for a man. Her need was for THIS man, for Saul.

In his casual nudity, Saul’s arousal was even more clearly evident than Guine’s. On some deep, deep level of instinct, Guine saw his gallant salute, and knew that THAT was what she needed. She knew it would fit well, and just where. And she wanted to feel it inside of herself!

If only she could speak, to let him know! But those terrible, wonderful feathers had now found their way to her underarms. When she tried to press her arms against her sides to protect those sensitive nooks, Saul slipped that big leg around Guine’s torso to press her arms back away from her body. By resting his lower leg on her calves, he pushed her ankles down and away, which pulled on her wrists where they were tied to her ankles.

This gave the feathers free access to Guine’s armpits. Oh, Goddess help me, she thought! How this tickles! It was such indescribably sweet, sexy torture, her incessant peals of laughter stopped her from asking, perhaps even begging Saul to take her. The fact that by curling his leg around Guine’s torso Saul had brought his erect manhood within an inch of Guine’s fully engorged labia made it even worse! Was he deliberately tantalizing her?

Saul decided on his own to do just what she was ready to beg him to do. He leaned against the back of the couch, seized Guine by her hips, lifted her up and then lowered her tightly arched body directly down onto his own groin.
He carefully maneuvered her so that his member parted her labia and entered her welcoming warmth and wetness.

Guine was quite comfortable, and gently undulated, enjoying the feel of his hard male body against her. Her breasts on his broad chest, her belly against his, his maleness inside of her, she luxuriated in all those sensations. Oh yes, this felt good.

Then her growing bliss was interrupted by a flicker of alarm. Saul was spreading those big, mighty hands with their powerful fingers across Guine’s defenseless ribcage. Her oh so ticklish, oh so vulnerable ribs. Then, what she feared came to pass.

Probing gently but firmly, careful not to bruise or abrade her fair skin, Saul was tickling her ribs! Guine erupted in wild, helpless laughter again. Her delightful body writhed and squirmed in mindless desperation as the involuntary mirth poured from her widely smiling lips.

Every move she made sent a new wave of lusty, delicious sensation shooting up the nerves from her G spot and clit where they rubbed against Saul. After just a couple of minutes, for the very first time in her life, Guine experienced an orgasm given to her by a person other than herself. It felt wonderful. Saul didn’t stop.

Saul slid his fingerpads up and down Guine’s soft sides, which tickled even more. Then, as the hormones released by her climax flooded her bloodstream, it felt as if her ticklishness doubled!

It was unbearable, and yet unbearably good. It was beyond understanding, so Guine just laughed, wriggled, and enjoyed. Her own movements against and around Saul brought her to climax again, and then a third time. Just as she came for the fourth time Saul let go of his firm self control and exploded his own flood of pleasure into her, sending her own pleasure up a notch higher.

The tickling of Saul’s fingertips on Guine’s sides were at once replaced by soothing caresses with his palms. He unbound the exhausted beauty’s limbs. She collapsed on top of him, her cheek against his neck, the top of her head tucked under his chin.

Guine found herself basking in the afterglow of her first sex with another person. She was emotionally wallowing in the feelings of fulfillment and deep satisfaction that swelled her heart with joy.

When Saul enfolded her in his arms, and gently squeezed her, it felt even better. For the first time ever, she found herself thinking;

“No wonder women consent to be owned by these wonderful, powerful creatures called men, when they find one who is worthy of them.”

She was shocked at herself, but could not find it in her heart to call the thought back. It could stand; after all, it was how she truly felt.



The End.