The Eagles Prey

'I suggest we leave them here, sir.'

'And how are we going to explain Maximius' absence to the men? Him and Felix?'

'We're not. Tullius can give all the orders as if they're from Maximius. He's the adjutant. Who would question him?'

'If Maximius fails to put in an appearance, they might.'

Cato smiled. 'By then, they'll have other things on their minds.'

Then he heard the rhythmic tramp of marching boots, approaching the tent. He glanced at Tullius.

'Someone's coming.'

The older centurion hurried to the tent flap, looked outside briefly, then turned to the others.

'It's Cordus, and he's got Maximius' guards with him.'

05 The Eagles Prey

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

Macro grabbed Tullius by the shoulder.'Get out there and deal with him.'

'What shall I say?'

'Anything. Just don't let him get inside the tent. If he does, it's all over for us.'

Tullius swallowed nervously, then steadied himself for an instant and ducked outside.

'Cordus! There you are. What the hell kept you?'

'I-I was in the village, sir.' The tone was aggrieved, verging on insolent.'Like you ordered. The natives have started on the ditch, sir.'

'Good job. Well done. Now we've got work to do. The cohort's on the move. Your orders are to pass the word for all units to assemble, fully equipped.'

'All the men, sir?'

'That's what Maximius said.'

'Who's going to oversee the natives?'

'Send them back to the village, and release all the hostages.'

'Release the-' Cordus' voice started to rise, before he took control of his frustration. 'Yes, sir. I'll see to it.'

'Good. Once that's done, take your century down to the track that leads into the marsh. Start work on strengthening the existing gateway. We need to prepare it for an attack in strength. I want the rampart higher and the ditch dug deeper, and wider. We have to be able to defend it.'

'Defend it from who, sir?'

'The enemy. Who else? It seems that Caratacus plans to attack after all. Now carry out your orders.'

'Yes, sir…But first, I must report to Centurion Maximius. Excuse me, sir.'

Inside the tent Macro and Cato exchanged anxious glances, and Cato tightened his grip on the cohort commander's sword.

'Make your report later!' Tullius snapped. 'Carry out your orders, or I'll have you on a bloody charge.'

'I don't think so, sir,' Cordus replied quietly. 'We'll see what Maximius has to say about this.'

'On whose authority do you think I give these orders?' Tullius shouted back. 'Get out of my sight, you jumped-up little prick! Go, before I have you for gross insubordination.'

There was a pause, during which Cato and Macro stood quite still, tense and strained. Then Cordus gave way.

'Yes, sir.'

'And take these guards with you. Maximius wants every man at work on the defences as soon as they're kitted up. Better find a cart and take all the entrenching tools you can carry with you.'

'Yes, sir… as Centurion Maximius commands.'

'That's right. Now get moving.'

Cordus called the guards to attention, ordered them to turn about, and then marched towards the main gate. The leather flaps were swept aside and Centurion Tullius walked unsteadily into the headquarters tent. He slumped down in a chair to one side of the desk.

'Well done, sir,' Cato said with a smile.'A fine performance. He'll be out of the way when we make our move. Are there any other officers who might give us problems?'

'No.' Tullius puffed out his cheeks. 'Maximius has really pissed most of them off. He's been playing up to the men for weeks now, and undermining our authority over them. The optios would be glad to see the back of him. But they'd never support a mutiny.'

'Then we won't give them one, sir,' Cato smiled encouragingly. 'If we can keep them busy, it'll all be over, one way or another, before they ever know the cohort is under a new commander.'

Trumpets began to sound the assembly across the fort and from outside the tent came the muffled sounds of the men gathering their equipment and bundling out of their tents to run to the assembly point just inside the main gate.

Cato leaned towards Tullius. 'You'd better go and take charge, sir.'

'Yes, yes, of course. Antonius, come with me.' The old centurion looked up at Cato. 'I'll send for you and Macro as soon as Cordus has left the fort.'

Macro shifted uneasily. 'If anyone asks, and they will, then you'd better have a good reason for reinstating us. At least, you'd better be able to convince the men that it was Maximius' idea.'

'Tell them the truth, sir,' Cato added. 'Tell them that Caratacus is coming and that the cohort requires every available man under arms to fight the enemy. And that's the only reason Maximius has agreed to release us, temporarily.'

'Right…' Tullius looked doubtful.'Come on, Antonius.'

Macro waited until the two centurions had left the tent before he turned to Cato. 'Doesn't exactly make you feel hopeful, does it?'

Cato shrugged.'With the odds that I've faced in recent days, right now I feel like I'm well ahead of the game.'

'Ever the bloody optimist,' Macro grunted.

'All the same, there's one last thing I need to sort out before Tullius sends for us.'

'What's that?'

'We need Nepos to stay here and keep an eye on Maximius and Felix. If you keep watch for a moment, sir, I'll give him his orders.'

'All right.' Macro crept over to the tent flap and peered cautiously outside. There was no one close at hand, just distant figures visible through the gaps in the lines of tents. They were forming up, making ready to march out of the fort. Macro glanced back towards Cato and saw his young friend talking earnestly with Nepos, speaking quietly. Macro could not catch what was being said. The legionary seemed to be listening intently and shook his head.

'You have to!' Cato snapped at him, then glanced quickly at Macro. He turned back to the legionary and dropped his voice as he continued. Eventually Nepos nodded slowly when Cato had finished issuing his orders. The centurion patted Nepos on the arm and gave him a few last words of encouragement before he turned and made his way quietly across the tent to join Macro.

'Nepos doesn't look happy.'

Cato shot him a searching glance and then shrugged. 'He's not keen on staying behind.'

'So I noticed.'

'Hardly surprising,' Cato smiled.'Being left alone when the rest of the cohort is leaving the fort.

'Frankly,' Macro muttered, 'I'm not sure who's going to have the better deal. Any possibility that Nepos might want to swap duties?'

Cato gave a dry laugh as he glanced back towards Nepos, ducking quietly back into the cohort commander's sleeping quarters. 'Oh, I should think there's every possibility of that.'

Once the cohort had formed up behind the main gate, Centurion Tullius passed on the orders from the cohort commander and told the men that Centurion Felix had volunteered to find the legate and inform him of the Third Cohort's situation. Tullius explained that since the cohort was well under strength, Maximius had decided that every available man should be readied for the coming fight. Accordingly, Macro had been given command of the Fourth Century, Felix's unit, and Cato would be once again marching at the head of the Sixth Century. On cue, the two officers emerged from between the lines of tents behind Tullius and were presented to the men of the cohort. The astonishment of the legionaries was short-lived as Tullius gave the order to march at once and, century by century, the men of the cohort tramped out of the fort and headed towards the track leading into the marsh.

Optio Septimus, who Maximius had appointed to replace Figulus, kept pace alongside Cato. From time to time he glanced at his centurion with a surly and hostile expression that Cato could well understand. He had been enjoying his first taste of command, and had relinquished it with a barely tolerable show of bad feeling. Cato decided that the best way of dealing with the resentment was to keep the man occupied.