‘They’re ready now, sir,’ Centurion Acer reported to Cato as he conferred with Lebauscus, Macro and Vellocatus. The latter, his arm in a sling, had climbed up to the bastion along with the Eighth Cohort.
‘Shall I give the order to start shooting?’ Acer asked.
‘Not yet,’ Cato decided. ‘When we strike, I want to hit ’em with our full strength. If we can shake them badly from the off then the battle is more than half won. One thing I have learned from fighting these Britons is that if you go at them with speed and ferocity, they have a tendency to lose their nerve. Shock them, gentlemen. That’s the trick of it.’
‘Nice words,’ said Lebauscus. ‘But they don’t win battles, sir. That’s down to men and cold steel.’
Cato nodded. ‘And the mind that directs them, Centurion.’
He paused and quickly considered the men at his disposal and the ground before them. It was vital that the officers were clear about their roles in the coming action and the need to co-ordinate their efforts if the attack was to succeed with minimal casualties. They could ill afford to lose any more men. Cato had already considered the consequences if they failed. The column would be obliged to retreat across the frontier as quickly as possible. As soon as Venutius and Caratacus had gathered sufficient men they would pursue the Romans and harry them all the way. The depleted column would need every man to hold the enemy off. He put aside thoughts of retreat and focused on the immediate task.
‘Centurion Horatius was right on one count, the only way we’re going to get into the fort is by battering down the gate. His method, however, was too direct.’
‘That’s putting it mildly,’ said Macro.
‘We still need that ram,’ Cato resumed. ‘The enemy will be determined to make us pay a high price to recover it. The ram is in full view of the earthworks either side of the gate and the party we send out to fetch it is going to be exposed to a barrage of arrows, spears, rocks and whatever else they have prepared for us. That said, they in turn are going to have to expose themselves when they target our men retrieving the ram. That’s where you come in, Acer. I want those ballistas worked hard. Keep the defenders’ heads down. You’ll command the auxiliary slingmen as well. When the command is given, hit the enemy as hard as you can. Anything to put them off their aim and give our lads the chance to fetch the ram without suffering too many losses.’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Which brings us to the small job of retrieving the ram.’ Cato turned to Macro with a weary smile. ‘How many men are left in your First Century?’
Macro had accounted for his losses during the brief pause in action while the ballistas were set up. ‘Forty-eight still on their feet, sir. More than enough.’
‘Good. You’ll take them out of the breach and go round the front of the bastion. When you hear the signal, you make a dash for the ram, pick it up and carry it to the gate. Then smash the bastard in.’
Macro grinned. ‘With pleasure.’
‘Excuse me, sir,’ Lebauscus cut in. ‘But why send in Macro’s men? They’ve done their bit. Better to let my lads do it. They’re fresh and at full strength.’
Cato shook his head. ‘That’s why I’m saving them to deliver the main blow. The Eighth Cohort will be up here, ready to assault the fort through the bastion’s gate the moment the ram has done its work. Besides, you’re going to have a hard time talking Macro out of the job. Isn’t that right?’
Macro laughed and wagged a finger at the other centurion. ‘Try and stop me, my friend.’
Lebauscus smiled. ‘It’s your funeral, Macro. Just trying to help.’
‘You’ll have the chance to play your part after Macro has succeeded,’ said Cato. ‘When the gate is down, you’ll go in fast and hard. Kill any that resist, but spare any that abandon their weapons. You need to make that point clear to your men. I don’t want to kill any Brigantians we don’t have to. As far as we’re concerned, those who have sided with Venutius and Caratacus have been misled and made a mistake. So we let them live and be grateful for it.’
Lebauscus looked doubtful. ‘That’ll be hard on the men, sir. You know what they’re like when their blood’s up.’
‘I do. And that’s why you need to rein them in, Centurion. When this is over, the Brigantes are going to be our allies again. I’d rather we didn’t give them any more pain than we have to. We do not want to leave behind a legacy of bitterness or resentment. Is that understood?’
‘Yes, sir. But what about captives?’
‘There won’t be any. Anyone we capture will be handed over to Queen Cartimandua to decide their fate.’
‘No captives?’ Lebauscus could not hide his disappointment. ‘The men aren’t going to like that. I’ve already overheard some of them talking about their share of the loot.’
‘I don’t care what they do and don’t like,’ Cato replied tersely. ‘Those are my orders. There will be no captives taken to sell as slaves, and no looting. Any man caught looting or raping will be subjected to the harshest discipline. You will explain that to them as well, and you will be responsible for their actions, Centurion Lebauscus. Clear?’
‘Yes, sir.’
Cato looked round. ‘Is everyone clear about what they have to do?’
The others nodded and Lebauscus asked, ‘What about you, sir?’
‘I’ll be going in with your cohort. Me and Vellocatus.’
Lebauscus raised an eyebrow. ‘With respect, sir. Both of you are wounded. You’d be more of a hindrance than a help.’
‘I thank you for your concern,’ Cato replied acidly. ‘We’ll need Vellocatus to call on them to surrender. I’ll be there because I am in command.’
‘As you wish, sir.’
Cato paused but there were no further questions. ‘Very well, then. The signal for Macro to go for the ram and for Acer to start shooting will be one blast of the horn, repeated at intervals until we’re under way. Then two blasts for the main attack to begin, and Acer to cease shooting. To your units, gentlemen. Macro, get your men round the back of the bastion. Keep out of sight and be ready to act the moment you hear the signal.’
The officers saluted and strode off to join their men and Cato turned to Vellocatus. ‘Time for one last appeal to reason. Ready?’
Vellocatus nodded. ‘Do you really think Venutius will surrender?’
Cato stared at him. ‘You’re Venutius’s shield-bearer. You know him far better than I do. What do you think?’
‘He’ll fight,’ the Brigantian replied at once. ‘He’s been a warrior all his life. All he knows is fighting.’
‘That’s what I feared you would say. But we have to give him a chance. In any case, he’ll probably be taking his cue from Caratacus.’ Cato smiled ruefully. ‘You can imagine what that means.’
‘Then why even make them the offer?’
Cato exhaled wearily. ‘If there’s a chance to end this before another man has to die, then I have to take it.’
He led the way to the auxiliaries crouching behind the palisade and peered cautiously between the hastily erected screens. The fort’s gatehouse was no more than forty paces away. The track below the bastion’s gate was a short distance below, and then open ground to the ditch and the raised drawbridge. Many of the enemy were in clear view, some of them archers. There was no reason for them to take cover. Not yet, Cato reflected grimly. He turned to Vellocatus.
‘You’re up. Tell them the Roman commander wants to speak to Venutius.’