Eventually Maximius nodded and sheathed his sword. 'All right, boy. Let's hear you out.' Maximius casually turned his back on Cato and stepped towards his desk,'Tell me about this attack.'
Cato saw Tullius' cheeks puff out as he breathed in relief. But Cato knew it wasn't over yet. He quickly moved up behind Maximius, shot out a hand and snatched the cohort commander's sword from its scabbard with a sharp rasping noise. He stepped back and raised the blade towards the spine of his superior. Maximius froze.
'You'd better replace that, before it's too late,' he said.
'It's already too late,' Cato replied.
Tullius started forwards.'What the hell are you doing, Cato?'
'Sir, we can't trust him. He'll pretend to hear us out and the moment we leave this tent he'd have us arrested, or killed on the spot. Nepos?'
'Sir?'
'Tie him up.'
'What about him?' Macro prodded his sword at Centurion Felix. 'This one won't rise against his master.'
'Yes, Felix as well. We have to be quick.'
While the two officers were held at the point of a sword, Nepos hurriedly undid their bootlaces and used the tough leather thongs to bind their wrists and ankles. Tullius and Antonius looked on in mounting horror.
'You can't do this,' Tullius muttered. 'This is mutiny. Shit, you'll get us killed.'
'It's too late now, sir,' Cato said gently. 'We're all involved. Me, Macro, you and Antonius. If we let them go now, we'll all be executed.'
Maximius shook his head. 'It's not too late for you, Tullius. Or you, Antonius. Stop these madmen and you have my word, you'll not stand trial.'
Cato glanced at Tullius and saw that the old man was wavering.'Tullius! You set me free. You arranged for Macro to be armed and brought here. There'll be no mercy for you now, sir. There's more at stake than our lives. He's not fit to command this cohort. Not when we're about to be attacked by Caratacus. Sir, hold your nerve. Your men need you.'
Tullius looked from Cato to Maximius and back again and rubbed his face. 'Damn you, Cato! You'll be the death of me.'
'We're all dead in the end, sir. All that matters is to make certain your death isn't pointless. If we release him now, Maximius will have us killed like dogs. If he saves us for trial, then we'll just die in chains when Caratacus gets here. But if we – you – take command, then there's a chance some of us will survive the attack. Better still, we might even be able to cripple Caratacus's force. If that happens then it's possible General Plautius will overlook this.'
'Fucking fat chance of that!' Maximius snorted.
Cato ignored him, concentrating his attention on Tullius. 'Sir, you change your mind now and you're dead. Stick with our plan, and we may live. That's all the choice there is.'
Tullius bit his lip, caught in an agony of indecision. At last he nodded his assent.
'Good!' Macro clapped him on the shoulder, then turned to Antonius. 'And you? Are you with us?'
'Yes…but if it comes to a trial I want it understood that I was obeying your orders.'
Macro snorted. 'Thanks for the loyal support.'
'Loyalty?' Antonius arched an eyebrow. 'That's in rather short supply at present. I just want to live. If the choice is as Cato has described it, then going along with you is simply the best bet.'
'Fine by me,' said Cato. 'Nepos, take these two through to Maximius' sleeping quarters and tie them to the bed. Gag them as well. They have to be kept silent.'
'There's a better way of keeping 'em quiet,' Macro added.
'No, sir. That's not necessary. Not yet.'
While Nepos dragged the two bound officers away, the rest gathered round the large desk in the centre of the tent. For a moment there was an uneasy silence before Cato cleared his throat and turned to Tullius.
'Sir, what are your orders?'
'Orders?' The veteran looked confused.
'You're the senior officer present,' Cato prompted.'We have to make sure the cohort is ready to defend itself. The plan, sir?'
'The plan? Oh, yes.' Tullius gathered his thoughts, looked over the desk for the map of the surrounding marsh that Maximius had drafted, based on reports from the patrols, and any information the local villagers had been persuaded to divulge. The sketched marks of small tracks crisscrossed the outline of the marsh. A broader line marked the main route through the marsh, leading north towards the upper reaches of the Tamesis. Tullius placed his finger on the map.
'If Cato is right, that's where Caratacus and his force will be coming from. There are a handful of other tracks that could be used to enter the valley, but they're not suitable for large bodies of men. So, we're counting on him coming down the main track. That's where we'll have to hold him. Build up the existing gateway and hope we can hold it.'
Antonius looked up.'Leave the fort? But that's madness, sir. If he outnumbers us why not fight him from proper defences? It's our best chance.'
'No, it's not,' Cato interrupted. 'Centurion Tullius is right. We have to try and hold him back, stop him breaking out of the marsh and into the valley.'
'Why?'
'When I escaped from his camp-'
'His camp?' Antonius looked astonished.'How on earth-'
Cato raised a hand to silence him.'I'll explain it to you later, sir. The thing is, I sent my optio north with a message for Vespasian. He should have reached him by now. So Vespasian will know about the location of Caratacus' camp. He'll also know that he intends to attack the Third Cohort and which route he is likely to take. If I know the legate, he'll see this as an opportunity to finish Caratacus off. If he takes the legion and advances down that track, he'll be able to fall upon the rear of the enemy force. Caratacus will be caught between Vespasian and the Third Cohort and cut to pieces, provided we can contain him in the marsh. And that means leaving the fort and taking up position across the track. If we stay in the fort, then Caratacus will be able to escape south the moment he spots Vespasian's forces.'
'That's a lot of ifs,' Antonius remarked quietly.'I'll add a few of my own: what if Figulus doesn't make it? What if Vespasian doesn't believe him? What if you're wrong? What if Vespasian doesn't act?'
'It's true, Figulus might not reach the legion,' Cato admitted. 'We have to hope that he did. The fact that he's risking execution by returning to the legion must carry some weight. We have to count on the legate seeing the opportunity to end this campaign once and for all.'
'And if he doesn't?'
'Then we'll hold Caratacus off, for a while at least. If we cause enough damage then maybe they'll pull back long enough for us to try and get back to the fort. Otherwise,' Cato shrugged, 'otherwise they'll eventually roll over us and cut the cohort to pieces.'
'Thanks.' Antonius clicked his tongue. 'Most inspiring briefing I've ever had.'
'The thing is,' Cato continued.'We have to get into position as fast as we can, and prepare the defences. Sir?' He turned to Tullius. 'We're ready for your orders.'
'Just a moment,' Antonius interrupted and jabbed his thumb towards the cohort commander's sleeping quarters. 'But what are we going to do about those two?'
'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.'