Excerpt, from Chapter 2: Romans on the Beach

   Now at last the chariots arrived, following me. I led them straight through the shallow water, the wheels sending plumes of spray into the air behind us. A hundred chariots bearing a hundred champions, what a sight that must have been for the Druids on the hill behind! The car lurched as Cassivellaunus threw a javelin at the shield wall in one transport, piercing it through. He launched another at a transport further up the beach, and a third at the very last one. Then he tapped me on the shoulder and I swung hard left, reining in; my squadron followed my lead, and the squadrons behind us did the same. Then our champions leapt out the back, calling on Lord Lug and Lord Belgos. Swords drawn, they raced in to finish off the legionaries still struggling in the water.
   That was the hardest part, having to wait there with the chariots while the champions were away. Half of me wanted to join them, half of me wanted to get away from the Roman bolts and slingshot stones, which were still raining down on us. Between the two impulses I stayed calm and waited there for Cassivellaunus, patting the horses to reassure them. One of my drivers was hit by a Roman arrow and another went to help him, but while the second was gone a bolt killed one of his horses.
   “Take him home!” I ordered. “Take his chariot! We’ll bring off his champion, and yours!”
   So we were suddenly five instead of seven. I looked down the beach. Champions in plaid cloaks were scattered in front of the transports, swinging their swords at the helpless enemy. The Kentish javelinmen were tiring but still shooting freely into the transports. Though it felt like hours, in fact only only moments had passed since our arrival.
   Now came a sound like a string of cloudbursts: behind the helpless transports, the Roman bird-ships were pulling for shore! Their countless oars lifted and plunged and fiercely raked the foam. Soon they were leaping ahead onto the beach itself, their keels grinding into the stones: and from their decks came a fresh rain of missiles and arrows.
   “Get back! To the chariots!” came the call. “To the chariots!” The champions were in retreat, and we readied the chariots for a quick dash to safety.