‘Aye, but I still don’t get it. You said a baby had been born – a boy too. Who is mad enough to mourn when mother and child both survive?’
‘They celebrate a death. Birth means a life of toil, sorrow and imperfection is ahead. Death means that the soul goes to their god and lives in blessedness forever.’
‘Daft buggers.’
‘Means they don’t fear death. Not the true faithful at least, and especially not the nobles. You haven’t met any of them yet, nor true Dacians rather than Getae. They’re brave and they’re smart – and their king is the smartest of the lot. You can’t beat folk like that or a leader like that in a couple of years, so there is a war coming, it’s just a matter of when. This year, next year, the one after that? We’ll start it if they don’t, but you know the Romans, they like to say the other lot started every war.’
‘Do they? Haven’t they noticed that they own most of the world.’
‘They’d say that they are just very good at defending themselves, wouldn’t they? Still, makes me wonder whether Trajan wouldn’t mind if a couple of his garrisons get attacked and massacred?’
‘And we took an oath to this high chief?’ Vindex said something else in what sounded like the Celtic language, but Brasus could not understand. However, the tone made the general meaning obvious. ‘So we’re the bait, are we?’ he went on, switching back to Latin. ‘Shove a few hundred useless Brigantes who want to kill each other and us in a fort in the middle of nowhere and wait for the wolves to gather?’
‘I could be wrong.’
‘You often are,’ Vindex said without any conviction. ‘Hey, what are you doing?’ There was the sound of a man dismounting and then a scraping. ‘Trying to blunt it are you?’
‘Just checking,’ Ferox said. ‘And then we need to go and take a look at that Dacian fort up near the pass.’
‘No one was there last time.’
‘Then let’s make sure it’s still empty. Are you coming?’
‘Miserable git. No wonder the lass kicked you out.’
‘Aye, well, as you say, she’s wise.’
Brasus listened as they left, letting himself breathe naturally at last. Fate had brought him here and times like this took away all the doubts. This Ferox was indeed one of those unusual, dangerous Romans, and that thought kept him in the tree long after he was sure that they had gone. There was only an hour or so left of daylight when he climbed down, but even in the shadows beneath the trees he could make out the shape this Ferox had carved in the bark of the tree. Brasus’ blood ran cold.
VIII
‘WHAT! BASTARD WAS up a tree all the time!’ Vindex was as angry as he was surprised. He and Ferox were up on top of the gate tower, and they spoke in the language of the tribes because the only sentries nearby were legionaries.
‘It’s an old trick in these parts. They hide scouts or archers up in the trees. They use ropes so they can stay for a long time – even tie themselves in place. Then they wait. Some of them are good at waiting.’
‘And you didn’t say anything.’
‘No point. And it took me a while to be sure. Only glimpsed him once even then. He did not try to kill either of us, so maybe he did not have a bow, or maybe the angle was wrong or he just wanted to stay hidden up there. In that case showing that I’d spotted him might just make him think a shot was worthwhile.’
‘Why didn’t we scrag him?’
‘Mongrel was up a tree. Remember Mona?’
Vindex sucked in a deep breath, his big teeth making his face more horse-like than ever. ‘It gets worse. Why bring up that dark place? Of course I remember, no matter how hard I try to forget. You kill the last great druid, so that’s bound to bring us all wonderful luck!’
‘You helped,’ Ferox said, ‘and we are all still here.’
‘Here – in this fort you reckon is on the brink of being overwhelmed by hordes of enemies! That’s good luck!’
‘Perhaps,’ Ferox spread his hands. ‘I may be wrong.’
‘Aye, but when it comes to predicting misery you have a knack of being right, don’t you?’
‘It’s usually a safe bet. At least it has been in my life so far.’
‘All right, I’ll bite,’ Vindex said. ‘What has the sacred and terrible island of Mona got to do with a Dacian bugger hiding in a tree?’
‘Back on Mona I had to climb that big oak, remember? On my own because you reckoned you couldn’t climb. … So I don’t reckon you’ve been practising much in the last five years. Which meant I’m on my own, trying to find and kill or catch him without falling out and breaking my neck. Let’s say I didn’t like the odds and did not feel my story should end that way.’
Vindex again sucked in air through the gaps in his teeth. ‘Aye, suppose so. More likely to end when a close friend bludgeons you to death in frustration.’
‘No doubt about it,’ Ferox agreed.
They were interrupted by the arrival of Sabinus and Dionysius, followed by one of the veterans. At morning orders, Ferox had outlined his suspicions, and changed the routine, so that patrols would regularly go up as far as the abandoned Dacian tower and fort, just to check that it was abandoned in accordance with the treaty. Although he had seen nothing when they had taken a look, Ferox’s instincts told him that someone had been in the place, and not simply wanderers or hunters looking for shelter. He had carved another symbol in the wooden frame around a doorway just in case.
‘Well,’ Ferox began once the other three had joined them. ‘Let’s try to imagine that we are the enemy.’ Vindex pulled a face and the others grinned. ‘That should make it easier. But let’s say we have ten thousand prime warriors at our command and our king has ordered us to capture Piroboridava or face his wrath.’
‘Why?’ Sabinus asked.
‘Probably wants Venus!’ Dionysius quipped.
‘Does not matter why,’ Ferox told them. ‘Not for the moment. What matters is how – and what we can do to make their life hard. You’re Fulvius Naso?’ he asked the soldier.
‘Sir.’ The veteran’s beard was more white than grey, his voice hoarse but steady, giving nothing away.
‘Spent a lot of your service with Minervia’s engines? Good. I want your thoughts on how best we can use artillery from the towers and even the walls, if practical. But let’s start with the basics – walls, towers and ditches. How can we improve them?’
Sabinus coughed. ‘Excuse me, sir, but should we not advance to meet the enemy in the open?’ His voice quavered, but that was the way the army was taught to operate. Dominate the enemy. Always attack regardless of odds, because you are Roman and you have discipline and they are just rabble.
‘Let’s say they surprise and attack before we are ready or there are too many to beat in the open. Somehow or other we are inside and there are a lot of them outside trying to get in. Our problem is stopping them.’
‘What about the bridge?’ Dionysius asked.
‘Could be the reason they come, but let’s think about that later. How do we stop them pouring over these walls like a wave.’ So they talked of ditches and obstacles, of the height of the rampart and towers and how far a man could throw a missile. Ferox ordered Dionysius to set the workshop to making as many things to throw as they could.