‘Lebauscus. .’ Cato nodded. ‘Kill him.’
‘My pleasure,’ the centurion growled. He drew his sword and approached the squirming spy. Leaning forward he snarled, ‘This is for the lads who died today.’
‘Wait!’ Septimus gasped desperately. ‘You can’t-’
Lebauscus held his sword low and angled the point up sharply. Then he thrust the blade through the cloth of Septimus’s tunic, through his stomach and up under his ribcage. Septimus threw his head back against Macro’s shoulder and his mouth gaped in a pained gasp. Lebauscus gritted his teeth as he withdrew the blade and thrust again, working it around inside the man’s vitals for good measure. Otho looked on in horror at the execution.
‘No. .’ Septimus gasped softly, as if his protest could save him. ‘No.’
Lebauscus wrenched his sword back and stepped away from his victim. The front of Septimus’s tunic was already drenched with blood and as Macro released his grip, he fell to the ground and rolled on to his side, struggling to breathe. His lungs had filled with blood and it spurted from his lips as he convulsed for a while and then, at last, lay still. Lebauscus leaned down to use the dead man’s tunic to wipe the blood off his blade.
‘What now?’ asked Macro. ‘Get rid of him?’
Cato shook his head. ‘No. Leave him here. I think the tribune here needs to be reminded of the dangers of plotting against the Emperor. This time it’s Septimus. The next time it could well be his wife, and anyone close to her. . Let’s go.’
Cato was turning to leave when they all heard the sound of a challenge from close by and then a figure appeared at the entrance to the tent.
‘Tribune Otho?’
‘Yes.’ Otho tired to recover his composure. ‘That’s me.’
‘Message from Legate Quintatus, sir.’ The man entered the tent and now Cato could see that he was covered in dust and grime from several days on the road from Viroconium. He stopped as he saw the body and glanced at the officers. When no one reacted he reached inside his sidebag and brought out a leather tube bearing the legate’s seal. He handed it to the tribune and stood back from the table.
Otho held the tube in his hand and looked over the new arrival as he tried to recover his composure. ‘You could do with some refreshment. Have one of my clerks see to your needs.’
‘Yes, sir.’ The soldier saluted and, with one last glance at the body, he strode out of the tent.
Otho continued to hold the message in his hands as he regarded the corpse. The others stood silently until at length Cato coughed. ‘Aren’t you going to read it, sir?’
‘What? Oh. . ’ Otho shook his head. ‘No. Not yet. There’s something I have to do first. Before I can take command of the column. You’re in charge, Cato. Until I’m ready to resume command. . You read it.’ He rose abruptly from his chair and moved round the desk, thrusting the leather tube at Cato. ‘Read it, and act on it as you see fit. If you need anything, I will be with my wife.’
Cato nodded. ‘Yes, sir. I understand. I’ll take care of it.’
Otho nodded. ‘Thank you. You’re a good man. I can see that.’
He stepped carefully over the body and hurried away, brushing through the tent flaps, leaving them swaying in his wake. Cato turned to Lebauscus. ‘I think we’ve made our point. Have the body removed. Take it out of the camp and have it buried. Leave no trace, though. As if the earth swallowed him. Understand?’
‘Yes, sir.’ Lebauscus saluted. ‘I’ll see to it.’
He left and Cato took the tribune’s chair and broke the seal on the tube. He took out the roll of papyrus inside and flattened it out on the table to read the contents. At length he looked up and met Macro’s expectant gaze.
‘Well?’
‘The legate wants us back at Viroconium as fast as we can march. There’s trouble amongst the Ordovices. The Druids have stirred them up again. They are raiding along the entire frontier. Quintatus needs every man to hold them back.’
Macro shrugged. ‘No rest for us then.’
‘Seems not. We’ll break camp tomorrow, after the men have rested. They’ve earned it.’
‘And so have we, my lad. So have we.’ Macro smiled. ‘As it happens, I know of a small cache of wine that needs drinking up. One previous owner. Want to join me?’
Cato stood up. ‘Yes. . Yes I do. I need a drink.’
‘That’s the spirit. Come on then.’ Macro steered him gently towards the tent flaps. Outside, the last band of light stretched along the horizon and the first stars pricked out of the velvet night sky. Some birds called out in the darkness, clearly audible above the quiet hubbub of the familiar noises of the camp. They strode away from the headquarters tent and Macro chuckled.
‘And who knows, if we’re lucky, we might just come across a few coins that he’s missed along the way. It’s not just clouds that have a silver lining.’