Ordering his soldiers to form up beside Tubero’s, Tullus went to see what was going on.
Tubero was lecturing Bolanus – who seemed most unhappy. There was no sign of Arminius. ‘You’ve brought more troops,’ said Tubero. ‘Good.’
‘Aye, sir, nearly two centuries.’
‘We’ll take the gate with the next attack, then. There are five ladders on the ground up there. If we fetch another half-dozen, that will be enough.’
‘You had the men attack already, sir?’ Tullus let his eyes wander to the bodies by the entrance.
‘I ordered an immediate charge when I arrived, yes,’ replied Tubero, bridling.
The number of dead had already told Tullus that the assault had been a resounding failure, and Bolanus’ expression confirmed it. ‘It didn’t succeed, sir?’
Tubero’s lips thinned further. ‘No.’
‘The Usipetes defended the palisade savagely,’ said Bolanus. ‘Eight legionaries were killed and a good number wounded. I mentioned sending to the camp for the bolt-throwers-’
‘To Hades with the bolt-throwers!’ cried Tubero. ‘It would take half the day to transport them here. The men will attack again now. We outnumber the dogs four, five to one. They’ll never hold.’
Tullus took a deep breath and said, ‘It could be that you’re right, sir, but they’ve seen the smoke from the boats, and our greater numbers. Every one of them knows he’s going to die, which is why they’re screaming blue murder, rousing themselves into battle frenzy. We’ll lose a lot of men.’
‘Your point is, centurion?’ Tubero laid heavy emphasis on the last word.
‘There’s no need to suffer so many casualties, sir.’
‘I am in charge here! I-’
Tullus’ frustration bubbled over. ‘Governor Varus sent me on this mission because of my experience, sir. A frontal assault isn’t our only option.’
‘Are you trying to tell me how to do my job, centurion?’ cried Tubero.
‘No, sir,’ said Tullus, clenching his jaw.
‘Good.’
‘Maybe we should do as-’ began Bolanus, but Tubero cut him off.
‘The Usipetes haven’t got enough men to defend the entire perimeter,’ he said, as if no one else would have seen this. ‘Take a group of soldiers around to the far side, Tullus. Scale the palisade, hit the bastards in the rear, and open the gate.’
He’s seen sense, thought Tullus, guessing from what Bolanus had started to say that the original idea had belonged to Arminius. ‘Very good, sir.’
Then came the sting in the tail. ‘You can have twenty men.’
Twenty? thought Tullus in alarm. Arminius wouldn’t have said to use that few. Would he? ‘Forty would be better, sir.’
‘Are your men are not up to the task?’ needled Tubero.
‘I’m not saying that, sir,’ Tullus began to protest.
‘Fine. Twenty it is then.’
‘That’s not enough, sir,’ said Bolanus.
‘If I want your opinion, Bolanus, I will ask for it.’ Tubero’s eyes were like chips of flint as he regarded Tullus. ‘Be quick, centurion. I don’t want to wait around all day.’
‘Sir.’ You spoilt, arrogant brat. Fuck you, Tullus thought, saluting. ‘You’ll attack when you hear the fighting begin?’
‘Of course.’
Tullus strode off, lamenting his inability to keep his temper under control. Thanks to Tubero, it was possible that he had just opened a swift route to Hades for himself and twenty men.
Despite his fury, Tullus did not rush his soldiers into position. They were veterans, whose lives were too valuable to waste because of a new tribune’s pique. If they had to die, he would ensure that they did so armed with everything that might help their cause. To scale the palisade fast, without men injuring themselves, ladders would be vital. Tullus gave thanks for the locals’ raised houses. It was a simple matter to remove four ladders from buildings that hadn’t been hacked down. Thus equipped, he, Fenestela and twenty legionaries from his century took a circuitous route out of the settlement – now also lined with Usipetes’ corpses – and back through the fields they’d traversed a short time before. He could but hope that the warriors within the compound weren’t keeping watch, or that his party was far enough away to remain unseen.
Fenestela hadn’t queried their orders before Tubero or the men, but he’d served with Tullus long enough to do so in private. In low tones, Tullus explained what had happened. ‘I was trying to stop lives being thrown away without need. The prick wouldn’t listen. No doubt his head’s full of the glory that this “stunning” victory will earn him. The quicker it’s done, the better it will sound in his report to Varus.’ He sighed. ‘I lost it for a moment, Fenestela. I made it clear that it wasn’t he who was in charge, but I. That’s why we’re on this fucking suicide mission.’
‘I would have done the same, sir,’ said Fenestela, spitting. ‘He’s a cunning bastard. Even if we fail, those tribesmen won’t be able to hold out for long, so whatever happens, Tubero comes out smelling of roses. We’ll just have to do the job without getting killed, eh? That’s the best way of pissing him off.’
‘You’re incorrigible, Fenestela,’ said Tullus, taking heart.
‘I’ve no idea what that means, sir, but I’ll take it as a compliment.’
Tullus laughed. ‘It means, Fenestela, that there’s no one else I’d rather have with me.’
Fenestela’s grin made him uglier than ever. ‘Likewise, sir.’
Tullus was pleased to find a small copse of beech and hornbeam northwest of the settlement. Whether it held a sacred purpose, he wasn’t sure, but it ran quite close to part of the palisaded compound. He couldn’t have asked for a better way to conceal his men. Leaving them in the depths of the trees, he and Fenestela crept to the copse’s edge, where they took refuge behind a towering beech. They waited in silence, scanning the top of the palisade. There was still a considerable clamour going on, but it appeared to be coming from over by the gate.
‘If there are any sentries, they’re not doing a good job,’ Tullus said after a time.
‘Why don’t I have a look, sir?’ Fenestela indicated the branches above. ‘I was a dab hand at climbing trees when I was a lad.’
‘That was neither today nor yesterday,’ said Tullus, watching with some amusement as Fenestela shed his belts and shucked off his mail shirt and the padded subarmalis below.
‘Gods, but that feels good,’ said Fenestela, raising and lowering his arms to let air waft under his sweat-sodden wool tunic.
‘Get up there,’ growled Tullus, linking his two hands.
Boosted to the first branch, Fenestela had soon scrambled above that to the second and then the third. Tullus’ nerves jangled as he watched. If any of the Usipetes spied Fenestela, any chance of a surprise attack would vanish. To his relief, no shouts rose from within – close by at least – but he didn’t relax until Fenestela leaped down to rejoin him. ‘Well?’ he demanded.
‘There are a couple of warriors patrolling the walkway. They’ll pass by soon.’
‘We wait, then, until after they’ve gone.’ Tullus clapped Fenestela on the arm. ‘Keep an eye out as you get your kit on. I’ll fetch the men.’
When Tullus returned, Fenestela reported that the sentries had gone by, oblivious to his presence. ‘Fifty heartbeats ago, sir.’
‘We move now.’ Tullus didn’t waste any time encouraging his soldiers. They knew what needed to be done – he’d already made that clear. Urging the men with the ladders out of the trees first, Tullus felt his pulse racing as if he were facing an enemy charge. Fortuna, give me two sixes now, he prayed.
They tramped through the greenery to the base of the palisade, which was about one and a half times a man’s height. Muttered curses rose from the soldiers in the lead as brambles tore at their hands. Tullus glanced to the left and right, along the top of the palisade, but could see nothing. ‘Up, up as fast as you can,’ he said to the assembled legionaries. ‘We’ll regroup on the other side, and then head for the gate as if Cerberus was about to tear chunks out of our arses. Clear?’