‘Me, sir,’ said Cato.
‘And Calidus.’ The centurion smiled quickly at Macro. ‘You’re both welcome. Despite what I said about standards, the Guard can always use experienced soldiers. We are not called upon to fight very often, but when we are, the burden of expectation weighs heavily on our shoulders. In that case, the more veterans we have in the ranks, the better. The other side of the coin is that you must accept that your new duties require absolute adherence to established protocols. Your appointment specifies that you are to serve in Centurion Lurco’s century of the Fifth Cohort. Lurco is on leave at the moment, so you’ll be reporting to the cohort’s commander.’ He paused. ‘Apparently the Emperor was so taken by your brave example that he requested that you be assigned to protect him and his household. That’s why you’re in the cohort assigned to protect the palace.’
‘We are honoured, sir,’ Cato responded.
‘So you should be. Such a role is usually only conferred after some years of service in the Guard. Even then, our men have to be aware of the precise manner in which they are to perform their duties. There is a very rigid hierarchy within the imperial palace and all guardsmen are expected to know it and address members of the household strictly in accordance with their station. As the officer responsible for recruiting, training and the manning of the Guard cohorts I will do my best to prepare you, although I’ve only been holding this office for a little over a month now. I’ll have someone who knows the ropes explain the details.’ He smiled again. ‘You will have to make allowances for me, as I will have to for you, eh?’
‘Yes, sir,’ Macro and Cato replied.
‘The palace cohort is commanded by Tribune Burrus.’ Sinius picked up a stylus and made a hurried note on a waxed tablet.
‘Tribune Burrus, sir?’ Macro raised an eyebrow.
‘That’s what I said,’ Sinius replied sharply, then suddenly his expression softened. ‘Ah, I understand. The tribunes of the legions are staff officers, aren’t they? It’s different in the Guard. The cohorts are each commanded by a tribune who usually holds the post for one year, before retirement. That’s not the only difference. The cohorts of the Guard are twice the size of those in the legions. In fact, there are nearly ten thousand Praetorians on the rolls. Some are on detached duties, but most are here in camp, giving the Emperor over nine thousand men to draw on if there is any emergency. Tends to make the mob think twice before they cause any trouble.’ He paused briefly. ‘Of course, we’re not the only ones charged with keeping order. There are the urban cohorts and the vigiles, who do a decent job of patrolling the main thoroughfares and breaking up drunken brawls and so on. The Praetorians are really there as a last resort. So when we go in, the people know we mean business.’
‘Does that happen often, sir?’ asked Macro.
‘No. But trouble is brewing,’ Sinius’s tone became serious. ‘Thanks to the disruption of the Egyptian grain supplies last year the stocks in the imperial granary are running very low. The dole has already been cut, and people are going hungry as the price of grain rises. We’ve already seen some small riots. It’s a funny thing,’ he mused. ‘Here we are in the greatest city in the world. We have fine bathhouses, theatres, arenas, goods and luxuries from every corner of the world, the best minds toil away in our libraries and one emperor after another has overseen the construction of vast temples and public buildings. Yet we are never more than a few meals away from unrest and the collapse of order.’
Cato and Macro made no comment and continued staring ahead.
Sinius sighed. ‘At ease. I’ve been through the formalities. Now I’m curious to know a little more about you. I have a few questions.’
The two men relaxed their posture and glanced at each other. Cato cleared his throat and answered for them. ‘Yes, sir.’
‘Firstly, you’ve come from Britannia?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Where the campaigning continues, despite the fact that Claudius celebrated a triumph awarded by the senate for the conquest of Britannia some years ago.’
‘We control the heart of the island, sir. We’re pushing our enemies back into the mountains bordering the new province. It’s only a question of time before the legions have finished the job.’
‘Really? I have a cousin who serves in the Ninth Legion. He writes to me from time to time, and I have to say he rather lacks your confidence in such steady progress. According to him we’re struggling to crush those who still resist us. The enemy raids our supply lines constantly and fades away the moment we show up in force.’
‘That is their new manner of fighting, sir,’ Macro intervened. ‘Forced on them after they had given up facing us in pitched battles. It is the strategy of the defeated. All they’re achieving is buying a little more time before they eventually bow to Rome.’
‘I only wish my cousin shared your phlegmatic nature, Calidus. However, he is not the only soldier who seems to think that the campaign is not going as well as the imperial palace would have us believe. Perhaps there is a different view among the rank and file. After all, common soldiers, such as yourselves, lack the wider perspective, as it were. Tell me, what are the men of the legions thinking? What is their … mood?’
Cato considered the question carefully. It had been some years since he and Macro had served in the Second Legion. Even then, the campaign had taken its toll on the men’s spirits. But that was to be expected. The issue now was how to use this opportunity to test the centurion sitting in front of him.
‘There are some who are not best pleased with their posting, sir.’ Cato spoke in a cautious tone.
‘Go on.’
‘It’s not really for me to speak for them.’
‘I understand, Capito. Look here, this is an informal conversation. You’re in the Guard now, nothing can change that. I’m just curious about the situation in Britannia. Trust me.’
Cato shot a quick look at Macro who was too uncertain about the direction the conversation was heading to respond. He just shrugged his heavy shoulders.
‘Well, sir,’ Cato continued. ‘When we left, the feeling in the ranks was that the campaign was getting nowhere. To be sure, we control the south and east of the island, but beyond that the tribes are in control. They hit our supply convoys and smaller outposts and run for it. They know the ground and move fast, so we have next to no chance of catching them.’ Cato paused. ‘If you want my opinion, the new province will never be secure. We’d be better off cutting our losses and withdrawing, sir.’ Cato was struck by a sudden inspiration and continued. ‘I even overheard some of the officers of the legion discussing it one night, sir. While I was on sentry duty. They’re as keen as the rest of us to get out, and one of ‘em said that the only reason we were there in the first place was because Claudius needed to play the all-conquering hero. And that once he had had his triumph, the army in Britannia was forgotten.’
‘I see.’ Sinius pursed his lips. ‘Doesn’t sound like there’s much love lost for the Emperor among the legions in Britannia.’
Cato looked at him nervously. ‘That’s just what it looked like when Calidus and I left the Second, sir. The situation may have changed.’
‘Of course, that’s possible. Thank you for being frank with me, Capito. Rest assured, our little conversation will go no further than these walls.’
Cato nodded. ‘Thank you, sir.’
Sinius waved a hand dismissively. ‘Think no more of it. Our business here is concluded. You’ll need to draw your kit from the stores then join your cohort. Tribune Burrus’s men are in the barracks in the south-western corner of the camp. Hand this waxed slate over to his clerk when you sign in there, and you’ll be enlisted in Centurion Lurco’s century.’