“Centurion Varro!” A voice shouted. He pulled on his reins and caused Staro to stop and leapt down, handing his reins to the soldier.
“Centurion Cammius.” Varro said offering his hand. “I didn’t know you were in command here, I thought you were still at the garrison.”
The two men had known each other for some time but had only met at briefings and in passing. Cammius was a century centurion, infantry born and bred from the fourth cohort and wasn’t usually in a position to mix with the cavalry as he spent most of his time with his men.
They shook hands, “No, I’ve been here for the last month living in the middle of nowhere with the men of my century. It’s incredible how much more you find out about each other when you’re so close.” He smiled. “Too close as far as some are concerned.” Cammius smiled, he wore just his white tunic but still had his sword and dagger attached to his belt.
“Vestius,” he shouted to a legionary, “make sure you look after the men’s horses and then get them some refreshments, I’ll be in my office with Centurion Varro here if you want me for anything.”
“Sir.” Vestius acknowledged.
“Come on, I’ll show you where I spend most of my day.” He turned and led Varro into his office. It was well lit by three large windows. On the wall behind his desk were large maps showing different sections of Britannia, one showed the country overall, another the region where the Second Augusta were at Isca Dumnoniorum, and the last map showed the area around the fort itself detailing the south east of the country and the land pertinent to the forts area of responsibility.
Cammius sat down and indicated for Varro to take a seat at the opposite side of the desk. Vestius knocked at the door.
“Excuse me sir, your wine.”
“Gods balls that was quick Vestius, I hope you’ve looked after those horses and Varro’s men first?” He asked as the legionary handed him a medium sized amphora.
“Tublius is seeing to them sir, he loves em, the horses that is not the men, wants to join the cavalry one day he said. He’s already taken the men to get some food at the cook house.” Vestius answered bowing slightly and leaving the officers in peace.
Cammius poured himself and Varro a drink into plain brown pot cups. “So what did you find at the villa?”
Varro looked at him with little surprise, Cammius added, “I assumed that was your first port of call as we haven’t seen anything of that strange little fella Friscus.” He raised his eyebrows. “Is he dead?”
Varro took a drink, “I think he is, there were three corpses in the courtyard, hacked to death and more inside the building itself, but they’d been set on fire so there wasn’t much left of them. One of the three outside was female and I assume was the wife of Friscus. There was no sign of the slaves and all the horses and wagons were gone from the stables. So, any of our people are dead and all the slaves have vanished, they could be anywhere by now.” He took a sip of wine. “Mm that’s the good stuff. I thought you’d be on the vinegar and piss out here on the frontier.”
Cammius laughed, “It’s not that bad although the thought of being a full day’s ride from Isca keeps you alert I can tell you. We’re just over sixty five miles from help,” he looked at the maps then back at Varro, “but obviously you know that because you rode here.” He looked back at the map showing Isca. “If we were manned with a few century’s as I should be, we’d be able to cover more ground with patrols but I hear the hairy bastards are up to their games all over the province. It means that places like this won’t be up to strength until things quieten down or we get reinforced, which is unlikely to happen for some time.”
“So how are you finding it here?” Varro asked and then finished his wine. Cammius indicated for him to help himself and he filled his cup.
“As things go to be honest not too bad, these little fortlet’s are quite cosy and as I said, you get to know the men a little better.” Cammius began. “We’ve got another two weeks to push and then we’re heading back to Isca, most of the men can’t wait. Apart from patrols we’re obviously confined to barracks, inside its guard duty, training and not much else. The locals come and have a nosey about but these rural areas have no real system of Government so we’re left to our own devices. It’s a shame because I’m told there’s good fishing to be had at the local river.”
“We passed it on the way. Do you have much contact with the auxiliaries at Restormel?” Varro asked.
“Daily as per orders but they’re in a smaller place than us would you believe.” He pointed to the map. “The forts were put here originally to keep an eye on any movement up and down the peninsula which is all well and good, or it would be if we a had a string of them from coast to coast but of course we haven’t yet, early days they say. Constantly the hairy bastards are moving from north to south or vice-versa and we can’t tell who they are really, friend or foe, or what they’re up to. They could be out hunting legitimately or going off to ambush a patrol or attack a villa. The sooner we take all their weapons away the better it will be except for those allied to us, but can we trust them? Maybe things will change now that Friscus has met a grisly end.” He filled his own cup. “Mind you it doesn’t surprise me it happened to be honest, word was, he was treating his slaves like shit and threw a load of Britons off the land he took. Ripped their settlement down and booted them off the land with the help of his freedmen. Sounded like a complete arsehole to me. You can’t expect to come onto someone else’s land and behave like that. Some people have no concept of what they’ve let themselves in for or who they’re dealing with.”
“I’m sure the Governor won’t be happy. Things had just about settled down around here and within the space of a few days we’ve lost two villas, the families that ran them and all the slaves that went with them.” Varro took another sip of wine.
“I take it you’re staying here tonight?” Cammius asked. “There’s no point in setting off back now we’re already losing the light eh?” He swung his head to the window. “May as well have some food, some more wine and get a good night’s sleep, set off first thing.” He looked back at Varro. “What do you say?”
“Good idea because tomorrow we’ll be heading south before we go back to the garrison anyway, see what the locals have to say about the attacks, nothing I should imagine but the question has to be asked.” Varro said taking more wine.
“Vestius.” Cammius turned and shouted. The legionary came scuttling in.
“Yes sir.” He said.
“Centurion Varro and his men will be staying here for the night. Can you arrange bedding and accommodation for them? We’ve plenty of room eh?” He said.
“Yes sir.” Vestius answered.
“Oh and how about one of those pigs? They are ready for eating aren’t they? Bloody things think they own the place anyway and our replacements will be bringing their own stock so we may as well have a feast. Have Cornelius slaughter the fattest one there and tell him to get it roasting on the spit.” Cammius ordered.
“Sir.” Vestius could be heard answering as he shuffled out again.
“That’s very good of you.” Varro remarked, “The men will enjoy that.”
“Think nothing of it, that’s one of the many benefits of being in a place like this you get to choose what and when to eat unlike back at the garrison.” He looked around the room, “Has some benefits a place like this see?” He finished his wine. “Come on I’ll show you around.”
Varro finished his wine and followed Cammius out into the evening sunshine. He saw a thick set legionary leading a fat pig with a carrot into one of the sheds. He assumed that was Cornelius with the night’s dinner.
“I’ll show you the view from up above the front gate although we’re only on a slight rise you’d be surprised at the view.” Cammius said proudly. “The engineers did a good job choosing this location.” He led the way to the gate and then up a fairly steep ladder banked on the rampart. The two legionaries on duty jumped to attention when they saw him.