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‘So few? Claudius Super had twice as many.’

‘I shall have Vindex and his men, my lord. They make a big difference.’

‘As do you, no doubt.’ Neratius Marcellus turned to a clerk. ‘I want eleven of the best men led by a duplicarius. Ensure all are well mounted and have food for three days. Fresh mounts to be provided for the scouts and the centurion. That should do it.’ He gestured at another of the headquarters men. ‘Longus, here, will show you the messages from Claudius Super and the survivor of the ambush.’

‘Thank you, my lord. I should like to speak to the trooper.’

‘Certainly, although I doubt you’ll get much from him. Go with Longus, but be back here as soon as you can for we will need your knowledge.’

‘Yes, my lord. My lord?’

‘I take it centurion, that you are wondering about the whole business. From all you have said about Acco he is shrewd and cunning. So you are wondering whether what he seems to intend and what he actually intends are two very different things. That perhaps he wants to draw me into a hasty attack on the Selgovae, either because more tribes will join them and we may be overwhelmed by sheer numbers? Or perhaps he has mischief planned elsewhere and simply wants us distracted? Were you thinking something like that, and that your governor had no more wit that a newborn child and would not see the possible traps?’ Neratius Marcellus grinned.

‘I was wondering something like that, my lord.’

‘I am glad to hear it, centurion. Now hurry off and be back as soon as you can.’

* * *

There was little in the messages. Claudius Super had sensed an unease among the tribe. That was something of a surprise, because in the past the centurion had appeared unlikely to have sensed when it was raining. Perhaps the fight at Aballava had made him wary or just plain nervous. The people struck him as hostile, and warriors shadowed his escort, without coming close. His second message told of a farm near the coast that had been burned to the ground, the families living there all killed, their corpses ripped open and mutilated. Super’s mood was reflected in the deep, almost brutal strokes his pen had made, stabbing into the wax and wood behind it.

The report of the survivor was of little use, so Ferox went to the small cubicle where the man was being kept. They had brought him bread, salted meat and wine, but the trooper had touched none of it. He sat on a stool beside the little table, bent over, his hands grasping his face. When Ferox spoke to him, the habit of discipline took over and he sprang to his feet. His eyes stared past the centurion into a distance no one could measure.

‘Report, Trooper Candidus.’ Ferox did not shout, but made it a command, hoping that training would force the man to speak quicker than a show of sympathy. ‘What happened to the rest of you?’

‘Dead, sir. All dead.’

‘You were escort to the centurion?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Helping out with the census. Then a messenger comes from a chieftain asking for help and the centurion takes you towards Uxellum and people there complain of cattle being stolen and blame some of the Novantae. They’re on the border there, so it happens often enough.’ Ferox was piecing together Claudius Super’s reports with some guesses and trying to convince the man that he already knew the answers. ‘You pushed along the coast and just before sunset yesterday find the farm and everyone killed and cut about. All of them, men, women and children.’

Candidus’s eyelids flickered, but he showed no other emotion.

‘You were all angry, and pushed on. Didn’t fancy camping there, did you?’

‘No, sir. Horrible it was.’ For the first time the trooper looked at him.

‘So you found another spot to camp, and you and Dannicus were sent ahead to check on another farm nearer the beach. It was empty?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘And as you rode back to the camp you heard the noise?’

‘They were screaming. Shapes darker than the night. Not human, sir, not really, but arms and legs distorted, eyes bulging.’ Candidus was breathing hard, gulping the words out. ‘Blacker than pitch and taller than any man, but flying across the ground faster than bats and shrieking, and our boys screaming as they were cut up. They were dying in front of us, the tents burning, fire everywhere, but the light didn’t show them, they were still just black. Dead men risen up or ghosts or monsters from the deep.’ His eyes were wild, his breath coming in pants and for a while he could not sleep.

Ferox did not see any point in asking how many of them there were. ‘They came for you, then, didn’t they?’

Candidus nodded. ‘Just appeared out of the night. Dannicus threw his spear, which was more than I could do. Hit one square on and it just bounced back. Didn’t slow it, didn’t hurt it, but they screamed at us and there was a whistling sound like the hiss of dragons, and then they stabbed at Dannicus and he cried out and my horse reared and then shot off like the bolt from an engine and Dannicus’ horse must have done the same. We didn’t go through the camp, but close enough to see the centurion being carried in the air. Others were throwing wood onto the fires and something that flared up into the sky. We kept going, riding as hard as we could and we didn’t look back, but we heard him screaming. Some of the others too, and that whistling followed us. And so we rode here.’

Ferox patted the trooper on the shoulder, making the man flinch like a nervous colt. ‘You did well to get away. Try to get some rest.

‘Find somewhere where he can sleep,’ Ferox told Longus.

‘Sir.’ As they left the clerk cleared his throat. ‘Sir? Do you believe all that about demons or ghosts?’

‘Men did the killing,’ Ferox said, and hoped that he was right.

* * *

At the governor’s consilium they asked him a few questions about places and the local people, but in the main they got on with the planning while he sat and waited. Ovidius had gone, so that there was no one else not doing anything, and he waited in silence.

‘We had better not keep you any longer,’ Neratius Marcellus said at long last. ‘Get something to eat and then get moving. The sooner you return with news the sooner we get to the bottom of all this.’

Crispinus walked with him as he left.

‘I wanted to wish you good luck.’

‘Thank you, my lord. I am guessing someone else will look after the Hibernians while I am away. Oh well, it looks like your expedition over there is unlikely to happen.’

‘We shall see. That all depends on what you find out.’ They were in the courtyard, and for once it was empty. ‘You know that the legate is my uncle?’

‘Yes, my lord, I seem to recall that he mentioned it.’

‘The legate is worried. That campaign against the Stallion was a narrow scrape and might have gone horribly wrong. The emperor still cannot afford a bad defeat anywhere on the frontiers.’

‘He’s ruled for two years now, surely there’s no more talk of challengers?’

Crispinus shook his head. ‘Don’t be naive. There will always be men wanting the throne when they think they have the slightest chance of getting it. Trajan is still not liked, and has not proven himself. And – as you have said so many times – the garrison in Britannia is weaker in numbers than it has ever been, and unlikely to grow anytime soon. We have a good force already gathered, but we cannot afford to “go fishing with a golden hook”, as I believe a certain centurion once said.’

‘I was quoting Caesar Augustus.’

‘I know. Look, I shall not ask you once more to trust me, since that seems to offend you so deeply. But help the legate to make the right choices, and you help Rome. If it is Acco behind all this, then he must be stopped before he commits worse slaughter.’