‘Which is why I have given orders for one of the navy’s squadrons to meet us on the coast and support our attack on the island. When we’re done, the Deceanglians are going to be a mere memory, and the last traces of the Druids and their sacred groves will be erased from the face of the earth.’ He paused to let his words sink in. ‘Once the Silurians and the Ordovicians hear about the fate of their northern neighbours, they’ll sue for peace. And then, at last, we will have made the province safe and secure.’
Cato moved the cup around gently in his hand. ‘With respect, sir. That’s what Ostorius tried to do. But far from scaring the enemy into negotiating, it only hardened their resolve to fight us.’
‘That was while Caratacus was there to lead them. Now that he is gone, there is no one left to unite the tribes.’
‘Except the Druids.’
‘Yes, true, but I mean no single figurehead to unite behind. No one with the charisma sufficient to get these barbarians to stop going for each other’s throats long enough to take us on. If we make an example of the Deceanglians, perhaps the rest of the tribes on this island are going to realise that the choice before them is submission to the will of Rome, or extermination.’
Cato laughed nervously. ‘Extermination? You’re not serious, sir?’
Quintatus stared back at him, his expression quite cold. ‘Deadly serious, Prefect. Right down to the last infant and animal.’
‘But why?’
‘Sometimes only the harshest lesson will do the job.’
‘And what if it teaches an entirely different lesson, sir? After all, didn’t Ostorius attempt what you’re advocating? He only succeeded in fueling their resistance to Rome.’
‘He lacked the conviction to see it through. Or perhaps he was just too exhausted. If he had been a younger man, it would have been a different story. As it is, it would appear that I am the one that fate has chosen to continue Ostorius’s legacy. Whatever the situation, Prefect Cato, I have made my plans. We may lose the chance to bag ourselves a fortune from selling the captives into the slave trade, but that’s too bad. As for the wider perspective, if a sharp dose of ruthlessness convinces the other tribes of the futility of resistance, then we can save many lives in the long run.’ He scratched his cheek. ‘Even those of the natives. Surely you see the logic of it? An intelligent fellow like you?’
Cato thought for a moment. There was enough reason to back such a plan, but it seemed unduly wasteful to his thinking, and besides, it would be better for future relations between Rome and the population of the new province to try and minimise the latter’s suffering and win them over. That said, he was a soldier and had given an oath to obey the emperor and all those the emperor chose to place in positions of authority over him.
‘Yes, sir. I understand.’
‘Good.’
They each took another contemplative sip from their goblet. Cato’s thoughts returned to an earlier question he had not had adequately answered. He cleared his throat. ‘Sir, you could have summoned all your column commanders to headquarters to tell them this. Why come here in person? If I may ask?’
Quintatus smiled slowly and raised his goblet in a mock toast. ‘Your circumspection does you great credit, young Cato. I say that more in praise than condescension. For a professional soldier, you have a keen grasp of the political realities of the world. Tell me, why do you think I have come here?’
Cato felt his heart quicken. The legate knew about his past, and that of Macro, when they had both been recruited to work as the agents of the emperor’s imperial secretary, Narcissus. Quintatus knew this because he had served a similar function for the secretary’s arch-rival, an imperial servant named Pallas. The two freedmen had been locked in a struggle for supremacy for years, and with Claudius’s strength starting to fade, it was only a matter of time before Pallas propelled his preferred successor, Nero, towards the imperial throne. Even here, on the very edge of the empire, the deadly struggle continued. It had been a deliberate move to send Cato and Macro to a dangerous posting the moment they had returned to the province. A move arranged by Quintatus on the instructions of Pallas. Following Cato’s resolution of the situation at the outlying fort of Bruccium, and the part he and Macro had played in finally capturing Caratacus, he had hoped that an unspoken truce had arisen between them and Quintatus.
‘I have no idea, sir.’
‘Come now. I am disappointed. I suspected that you might have feared I was here to do you ill. Let me put your mind at rest on that account. That is not why I am here. Quite the opposite. I came to see you for a number of reasons. The first was purely military. I wanted to gauge with my own eyes the readiness of your men for the coming campaign. And I am pleased by what I have seen. Both your cohorts are in good shape. Unlike some of the garrisons I have visited over the last few days. The second reason is more to do with you individually, Prefect Cato.’ Quintatus set his cup down and folded his hands as he gazed into Cato’s eyes. ‘We have sometimes been at cross-purposes before now.’
‘That’s putting it mildly, sir.’
The legate frowned. ‘We are all someone’s man. You were forced to work for Narcissus and I was persuaded to work for Pallas. We have satisfied the requirements of our puppet masters for the present.’
‘I am no man’s puppet,’ Cato said firmly.
‘You think not? Really? Now you do disappoint me. But putting that aside for the moment, I need you to understand my real intentions behind the coming campaign. So hear me out.’ Quintatus picked up his goblet and settled back in the chair. ‘The situation in Rome is going to change very soon. Emperor Claudius is an old man, and old men have a propensity to drop dead rather suddenly. People are inclined to attribute that to natural causes. Which rather advantages those who seek to ameliorate the mortality process. If you follow me?’
All too well, Cato thought. A few years earlier, he and Macro had been involved in an undercover operation to protect Claudius from would-be assassins operating within the imperial palace. Both they and the emperor had barely survived the experience.
‘These days, poison or a blade between the ribs has come to be regarded as natural causes at the palace. It’s a pity, but there we have it. While plotters are no doubt already conspiring away to arrange the emperor’s early departure, that leaves my man and yours jostling to get their candidates on to the throne once Claudius is dead. At the moment, the odds favour Pallas and Nero, but who knows? Maybe Narcissus can scheme his way into putting Britannicus in his father’s place. Certainly Britannicus has the advantage of being the natural son of the emperor. But Nero has his mother, and there are no lengths that bitch Agrippina won’t go to in order to get what she wants. Narcissus may yet surprise us all. He’s in a corner, and that’s when he is most dangerous. You are fortunate that he is on your side.’
Cato stifled a bitter laugh. ‘Fortunate? Macro and I had no say in it. We were forced to do his bidding and he put us in the way of danger time and again.’
‘Nothing you aren’t used to. After all, you are a soldier.’
‘Yes, sir. And while I am prepared to sacrifice my life for Rome, I am not prepared to lay down my life for that reptile Narcissus.’
‘A fine, laudable principle. But like so many principles, it is utterly divorced from the reality we so frequently find ourselves in, nay? Besides, it is better to have a snake like Narcissus at your side than at your throat. Only a fool would believe otherwise, and you are no fool.’ Quintatus raised his cup to Cato, then drained it before setting it down sharply. ‘So let me share my thinking with you. There is an opportunity before me. The new governor will not reach Britannia for some months. Time enough for me to strike at our enemy and crush them once and for all. It is my intention to destroy the Deceanglians, and to take the island of Mona and wipe the Druids out. With them off the scene, there will be no one left to co-ordinate resistance between the tribes. I will force these barbarians to submit. The victory will be mine. And since I am due to be recalled to Rome next year, it would be very useful to have a successful campaign behind me. Assuming that Nero succeeds his adoptive father, and Pallas remains the power behind the throne, then my star looks set to rise. Now, like all powerful men, I need followers I can depend on. Capable men, with a good record and underhand skills and experience to match. You are such a man. And so is your friend Macro. I would be honoured to count you amongst my supporters.’