The first spear dropped his helmet down onto the table with a heavy thud, drawing a dirty look from the mess servant who was promptly treated to a swift rebuttal.
‘Don’t be giving me the eyes boy, fetch another jug unless you want your arse tattooing with the lace holes of my boots. We’re fighting soldiers, not the weak-kneed half-wits you’ve been used to dealing with. I came through here two years ago when this fort was nothing more than a burned-out shell, on my way to give the Selgovae a good reaming as repayment for their having it away with your fucking eagle.’
Shaking his head in disgust he turned back to his comrades, ignoring the stares his outburst had drawn from a trio of legion centurions at a table in the far corner.
‘And yes, young Corvus, you’re bloody right. I do need a beer, if only to wash away the memory of an hour of my life I’ll never get back, spent listening to a spotty nineteen-year-old trying to tell us he’s got the local area under control while his three centuries hide in their barracks sharpening their military skills by a combination of wanking and playing knuckle bones. One word from Rome to pull back and this lot will be off down the road to the south like Greek athletes racing for the last bottle of oil.’
He tipped the beaker back and drained it in a single swallow, reaching forward and pouring out the last of the jug’s contents as Dubnus watched disapprovingly. One of the men in the corner got to his feet and advanced across the room towards them with a determined expression, his comrades looking after him with a mixture of curiosity and concern. Planting himself in the first spear’s field of view he waited for Julius to become aware of his presence, his eyes fixed on the big man until the Tungrian turned his head to look at him.
‘What?’ Julius looked up at the newcomer with a curled lip, sliding down in his chair a little to make himself comfortable and folding his arms to push out his massive biceps. ‘I’d be very careful, sonny, standing there with a face on you like you’ve got a pair. If you’ve come looking for a set of lumps you’ll find me ready and willing to oblige you, given the deep joy I’ve been forced to inflict on my men today.’
The legion centurion shook his head, saluting punctiliously as he spoke.
‘Nothing of the sort, First Spear. But I couldn’t help overhearing your comments about my cohort, and I just wanted to explain a few things to you.’
Julius raised an eyebrow at his brother officers with a bored expression.
‘You want to hear this tale of woe?’
To Marcus’s surprise Dubnus nodded, his face suddenly serious.
‘Why not? There’s been a lot happened since we were here last, and given that we’re marching north to put our cocks well and truly on the block I’d like to hear what the centurion here has to tell us. If you don’t like what he’s got to say you can do your usual “fuck off and die quietly” act once he’s done telling it.’ He turned to the legion centurion with a wink. ‘Take a seat brother, and have a beaker of this most excellent beer, if the idiot behind the counter ever bothers his arse to bring us a refill.’
The other man smiled wryly.
‘I can help with that much, at least.’ He clicked his fingers to get the mess steward’s attention, raising his voice in a peremptory tone. ‘Two jugs of beer, and make it quick or I’ll have a chat with your chosen man and have you put to work moving shit from one place to another and then back again with the smallest and heaviest shovel you’ve ever seen!’
With the beer swiftly delivered and poured he took a sip and then leaned forward, his voice pitched low to avoid the words carrying to his comrades.
‘I’m Tullo, Third Century. And yes, First Spear, our tribune is no more than a boy, but even if he wanted to do anything more than keep the locals’ heads down his orders leave no room for doubt. If we stir from this fort without orders from the new legatus, then he’ll find himself so deep in the shit he’ll be breathing through a reed. And as for the men …’
He sighed, shaking his head, then raised his eyebrows in question at Dubnus.
‘You know that nightmare we all have, given we command centuries made up mostly of local boys, the one where we have to order them to start killing their own people? Well it’s not a nightmare for me any more, because my lads have been through it. When the Brigantes revolted, we were part of a three-cohort force that was sent south to make sure the cheeky bastards didn’t get any smart ideas about burning out the Yew Grove fortress, while the rest of the legion got stuck in to making sure the wall forts weren’t overrun. Three cohorts wasn’t enough, of course, we needed a full legion to do the job properly, but given that we were all that could be spared the legatus told us to do our best, and put the most experienced of his tribunes in command, a man with experience from the German Wars and a right hard case.’
Tullo took another sip of beer, aware that he had the Tungrians’ full attention.
‘It was all a bit half-hearted at first. The Brigantes were scared shitless once they realised the full implications of what they’d done, which meant they kept well out of our way for the most part, and our lads were all a bit stunned by the turn of events that had their own people burning out farms, but it wasn’t until we reached Sailors’ Town that we realised just how serious it really was. We knew the auxiliaries who were based in the fort there pretty well, given that we’d marched up and down the road from Yew Grove a good few times over the years, so when we got within a mile or so of the place the men started to look pretty unhappy.’
He drank again, his eyes meeting the Tungrians’ over the rim of his beaker.
‘It was the smell that gave it away, you see, the stench of rotting meat. Putrid it was, like the smell you get on the farm when an ox dies in the summer and you don’t find its carcass for a week. I could hear the flies before we even got inside the fort, and when we saw what the bastards had done …’ He stopped, shaking his head with moist eyes. ‘You’ll think I’ve gone soft, but none of you could have witnessed what we saw without it hitting you like a kick in the balls. They’d killed everyone, not just the soldiers but every single person in the fort’s vicus as well, and then they’d piled them up on the parade ground and left them to rot. Soldiers, old men, women, children, all butchered and left for the crows, their bellies distended with the gases and their eyes pecked out. Half of the men were choking their guts up while the rest were crying like babies at the sight of the bodies of little kids with their throats cut. Once we’d burned what was left of them the tribune got us centurions together with a face like thunder and told us that it was time to teach the Brigantes what happens when they go too far. He was right, of course, and there wasn’t one of us that ever considered disobeying his orders, but …’
‘But what?’
Julius was leaning forward now, his eyes fixed on Tullo’s face.
‘We were ordered to conduct an offensive sweep of every village within ten miles of the fort.’ The legion centurion’s face was stony, his eyes fixed on the mess’s wooden wall. ‘And just what do the words “offensive sweep” mean, you might ask? The orders were made very clear, and read out to the cohorts on parade to make sure that not one of the men was in any doubt as to what would be expected of them. We were to surround each village in turn with overwhelming force, allowing no escape routes, then subdue the population and pull out every man of fighting age to be sold into slavery, without exception. Every item of any value was to be confiscated, every roof to be burned, and anyone offering any resistance was to be killed without any warning. And that’s just what we did …’
He looked around at their uncomprehending faces with the ghost of a wry smile.
‘You can’t see it, can you? The Sixth recruits its men from the area to the north and the south of Yew Grove, smart local lads who want to better themselves and see a brighter future serving under the eagle than hunting or farming the land they were born on. A good number of them were recruited from the very villages they were being ordered to ransack and torch.’