He had already got used to the men who had replaced those who had died when the Second Augusta had made an expedition into the west under Vespasian. The legion of men together with their auxiliaries had been badly mauled and their humiliation was compounded when the survivors were only saved by the intervention of the Twentieth. Vespasian himself had been injured after being hit a by an arrow and had returned to Rome and subsequently retired from the army.
Riding with Varro was Optio Julius Grattius who was from Sicily, the port town of Syracuse on the south east coast. He was considered a veteran who had been in the army for nearly as long as Varro, twelve years. He was from equestrian stock from a prominent family in Sicily but had voluntarily joined the army as a legionary. As well as being an excellent rider he was also a good archer and carried his bow with him wherever he went. The other two members of Varro’s part of the contubernium eight man squad, were legionaries Balbus and Verus. Leading the remainder was Optio Gaius Marius with legionaries Facilis, Eprius and Maenius. As they were carrying out a routine patrol they didn’t plan to split the unit as they would ordinarily if they were scouting ahead of a marching column.
Varro had been ordered to ride south and to check on one villa in particular, it was owned by Vanutius Friscus, who lived there with his wife, a number of freedmen and their slaves working the land and raising crops. The local fort had heard nothing of them for some weeks and had been too busy with their own duties to investigate further. After the attack on another villa in the region where the occupants had disappeared completely, and the freedmen were killed, Varro wouldn’t be taking any chances.
It took them the best part of the day to get to the large valley where the farm was located, they hadn’t seen anything untoward on the way and the villa looked quiet as they surveyed it from a distance but that in itself was suspicious. If everything had been normal, the workers would be out in the fields but there were none. The usually light coloured walls looked dark and burnt.
“We’ll go down as far as the external gate where the long straight path starts towards the villa.” Varro said. “Once there Marius, you and your men can wait and the rest of us will go and have a look, understood.” The men acknowledged their order as Varro clicked Staro further down the slope. Nothing moved within the buildings of the villa that they all watched as they approached, nor was there any movement in the surrounding countryside. At the gate Optio Marius and his three men stopped whilst the other four continued slowly forward, their horses barely moving.
Varro’s eyes scanned the walls of the compound. The main gates he saw were wide open. He could make out something on the ground inside but from where he was, he couldn’t identify the shape. Twenty paces from the entrance he stopped and listened but there was nothing to hear except the sound of the country, birds in the distance; the whisper of a slight breeze and the breathing of the horses. Listening again, he heard the sound of flies, lots of flies and knew that was a bad sign. He debated whether or not to dismount and walk the rest of the way but decided against it knowing that if there were hostiles inside, they stood a better chance of getting away if they were mounted. He nudged Staro forward again, pausing at the gate one last time. He could now see a tangle of bodies on the floor and dark stained grass with stones underneath where they lay. Then the smell hit him, pungent, rich and sweet, the smell of rotting flesh. The soldiers quickly removed their neck scarfs and put them over their noses and mouths.
The remains of three people lay inside, hacked to death, two men and a woman. He looked back to make sure Marius and his men were alright, the optio raised his hand. Varro dismounted and led Staro to the stable but it was empty except for hay, presumably put there for the now missing horses. The rest of the men brought their own mounts inside.
“Looks like we’ve found the illustrious Friscus and his wife and one of their men I’d say looking at those injuries.” Grattius said, tying his horse to a wooden fence post.
“Let’s go and have a look round, we’ll leave the horses here for now, Marius will let us know if something happens.” Varro said.
Walking back outside they examined the corpses, they still had their hands tied behind their backs, it was clear they had been executed. Varro pointed to the slaves’ quarters and then at Balbus and Verus who went off to check them. He looked at Grattius and nodded for him to follow as he made his way to the charred residential part of the villa.
He put his hand to his nose trying to stop the smell of burnt flesh and whatever else had been inside, before it was set on fire. The window skins were none existent now, presumably they had caught fire as well, and the walls were pitch black and covered in soot. The only thing that was recognisable but had partially melted, was an old iron standing candle frame, it was bent over where it had succumbed to the heat. Varro led the way into what would have been the freedmen’s quarters, inside were the skeletal remains of at least six bodies, most of the flesh was gone except for a few meaty bits and black scorched bones remained.
“We’ll ride to the nearest fort and report our findings. They can come out and bury the bodies.” Varro said. “I don’t want us hanging about round here any longer than we have to, we’re too few and exposed if whoever did this returns.” He walked outside again and into the sunshine where the air was clearer.
“Nothing in the slaves quarters sir, they’re empty.” Balbus reported.
“I didn’t think there would be. I imagine that whoever attacked the villa either took them along or set them free. This is the second attack of this type and I would guess that at least twenty disgruntled Britons were involved.” Varro said to his men. “Come on let’s get the horses and get out of here.”
“Do you think it’s locals that are responsible for this sir?” Grattius asked.
“I don’t know it’s either a few men slipping away at night or some group coming into the area, either way I’d have thought the patrols would have picked them up. We’ll go to the fort and let them know what we’ve found. We’re going to have to do something about this that’s for sure.”
As the daylight was beginning to fade, they sighted the fort, Statio Deventiasteno Station at the narrows of Deventia, a few miles to the north. It lay on a slight rise amongst flatter ground and was very small, probably only covering about two acres all told. The land around it had been cleared and it stood out against the forests surrounding it, an unnatural feature. Two soldiers stood guard above the main gate and acknowledged the visitors as they rode towards them two abreast along the worn path. The gates were opened and they went inside where a legionary came to greet them, and to take care of the horses. Varro saw that the fort was of typical century layout containing four small barrack blocks for the men, a stables, the latera praetorii in the centre contained the principa headquarters block and the officer’s quarters in the praetorium, adjacent to the barracks was a granary where just outside there was a man sized grind stone and mess facilities. To the rear of the compound was an area set aside for livestock where pigs, chickens and a few sheep lived next to each other in separate pens. The inside of the walls to the exterior, which were originally traditional wooden posts, were re-enforced with thick layers of compacted mud and every twenty feet there were ladders leading to the walkways where the guards patrolled. Over the main gate was a small covered area big enough for four men at a squeeze, where those on duty could shelter from the weather. Four small scorpion torsion catapults were stationed on each corner in the event of attack. They were covered with a wooden roof to provide shelter for their crews that would usually consist of two men on each.