‘By the gods. .’ the sentry muttered, staring out at the host.
Cato and the other officers said nothing as they grimly surveyed the enemy army. The earlier prospect of Ostorius taking advantage of the situation returned to mock Cato and he smiled bitterly at himself. The enemy commander had brought his enemy with him.
‘Romans!’ Caratacus called up to them. ‘You see? I have more than enough men to crush Bruccium several times over. And I will. Unless you surrender Maridius and the others and throw down your weapons. You have until first light to decide.’
He turned his horse and rode back down between the rows of decaying heads. Behind him, the garrison of the fort looked down at the silent horde of warriors, bathed in the blood-red glow of the burning haystacks.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
After Caratacus had ridden away to rejoin his army, Cato watched the blazing haystacks for a while, and the army waiting beyond, but there was no sign of any preparation for an immediate assault. He gave the order for the garrison to stand down while Severus and his century took the first watch. The rest of the men were permitted to rest at the foot of the rampart in case they were needed at short notice.
Once the orders were given, the senior officers were summoned to headquarters. No one talked as they waited for the last of the officers to arrive. Macro had given orders to Decimus to fetch food and watered wine and settled himself on a bench to one side of the hall while Quertus and his officers sat opposite. Cato paced slowly up and down between them while he waited for Severus and his fellow centurion, Petillius. The two legionary officers had stationed their men along the front wall, which was most at risk. The Thracians were assigned to the remaining three walls, which were protected by the river and the crags leading down from the fort.
Decimus arrived with a small cauldron of barley and lamb stew, mess tins and spoons, together with two jugs and Samian ware cups for the officers. As he set them down, the two legionary centurions arrived and took their place at Macro’s side. Cato nodded to his servant.
‘Serve the food, then draw some kit from stores and join Severus’s century on the wall.’
Once Decimus had completed his duties and left, Cato began to address his officers as they supped on their stew. ‘Enjoy it. I expect there will be little chance for a regular meal for the next few days. By now you will all be aware of the situation. It seems that we have discovered the whereabouts of the army that Governor Ostorius has been trying to pin down for the last two years. Whether we live long enough to report that fact to him is another matter.’ Cato paused, but there was no reaction to his attempt to lighten the sombre mood. He took a weary breath and continued to address his officers. ‘Caratacus has demanded that we surrender the fort and hand over our prisoners. Of course, there is only one of them that really matters to him, his brother Maridius. If we concede then he gives us his word that we will be allowed to march back to Glevum unharmed.’
‘His word?’ Quertus interrupted. ‘That’s worth nothing. He’s just like the rest of the savages who live in these mountains. He does not know the meaning of honour. We can’t trust him.’
Cato nodded. ‘And even if we could, I doubt very much whether the word of Caratacus would be enough to sway the hearts of the Silurians who follow him. After all the fine work that you have been doing in the valleys that surround Bruccium, they will be thirsting for revenge on you, your men, and the rest of us here in the fort. Whatever their commander says, they will not be satisfied unless every last Roman soldier is dead.’
‘What goes round, comes round,’ said Macro. He raised his cup to Quertus. ‘A fine mess you’ve dropped us into, my friend.’
The Thracian scowled and one of his officers made to stand, his hand reaching for his sword until Quertus swept out an arm and thrust him back on to the bench. There was a brief, tense silence before Centurion Severus spoke up.
‘What if we offered them Quertus, on the understanding the rest of us are permitted to leave the valley?’
Quertus glared at the legionary officer. ‘Coward.’
Severus shook his head and answered angrily, ‘It’s because of you, playing the barbarian, that we’re in this bloody situation. It’s you the enemy want. Like Macro says, you’re to blame and now you can reap what you sow.’
Macro turned to him. ‘Now hang on, Severus. I was joking. There’s no way we’re handing one of our own over to those Silurian dogs to tear apart. Not even him.’
Severus glanced round at the others, and then fixed his gaze on Cato. ‘Why should we give our lives for him, sir?’
‘Because we are Roman officers. If you sacrifice Quertus to the enemy, then that will be a stain on your honour that will never fade. And not just you. It would be a stain on the honour of the legion, forever. I will not let that happen. In any case, I have made my decision. We defend the fort. That is our duty. It also happens to be our only chance of survival, Centurion Severus.’
The legionary officer opened his mouth to protest and then saw the cold expression on his commander’s face and the mixed looks of contempt and anger on the faces of the other men and slumped back against the wall. ‘Then we’re all dead men,’ he muttered despairingly.
‘Not yet,’ said Cato. ‘First, Caratacus and his warriors have to get into the fort. It’s our job to see that we keep them out. Bruccium is finely positioned. There’s only one front they can attack us on easily and even though they greatly outnumber us, they’ll not be able to throw their full weight at us at any one time. As long as we have enough men to fully man the gate and the wall on either side, we can hold the fort.’
‘And how long do you think we can do that for, sir?’
‘As long as necessary,’ Cato replied, ‘until we are relieved, or the enemy gives up their attempt to take the fort.’
Severus gave a mirthless laugh. ‘We aren’t going to be relieved. The fort is too far from any help.’
‘Not true,’ Macro chided his subordinate. ‘As soon as there’s enough light, we can put a flame to the signal fire. If the weather is good, the smoke will be seen from Gobannium. They’ll raise the alarm and Legate Quintatus will send out a column. You’ll see.’
‘We can’t use the signal fire,’ said Cato.
Macro frowned. ‘Why not?’
‘Think about it. As far as Quintatus knows, the enemy is several days’ march to the north, close to Ostorius and his army. Once the smoke from our signal fire is spotted and reported to him, he’ll send out a relief column all right, and it’ll march straight into a trap. Caratacus will pick his ground carefully and he has more than enough men to annihilate a detached force from the Fourteenth.’ Cato shrugged. ‘We daren’t light the fire and lure our comrades to their deaths. Better that we fight it out, or find some way of getting a message through to the legate before he sends us any help.’ As he concluded, Cato felt a sudden cold stab of horror. ‘Shit. .’
Macro cocked an eyebrow anxiously. ‘What is it, sir?’
‘The reinforcement column. They may already be on the road to Bruccium. If they arrive while Caratacus is still here. .’
Every man in the room understood the danger well enough, and it was Macro who spoke up first. ‘If they see the smoke from the alarm beacon, they’ll know we’re under attack and turn back.’
‘Assuming the sky remains clear enough for them to see it.’
Macro pursed his lips. ‘Either way, we have to warn them, sir. We have to get a message to the legate.’
‘How?’ asked Cato. ‘Even now, I suspect that Caratacus has already closed the noose around us. It’d be a brave man who dared to try and find his way through the enemy lines. I’ll not send a man to certain death.’
‘Even if he volunteers?’ Severus asked hopefully.
‘Even if he is volunteered.’
Macro shook his head. ‘Sir, it’s a risk we have to take. Not just to save our necks. Ostorius needs to know what the situation is. If he learns that Caratacus and his army are here then he
can march on Bruccium at once. It’s the opportunity he’s been waiting for. The chance to catch and destroy the enemy once and for all.’
‘I’m aware of that,’ Cato replied tersely. ‘However, it would take several days to get a message to the governor, even if a man could find his way past the enemy and reach Glevum. By then, it’s likely that the siege will have ended, one way or another.’ Cato glanced round the room. ‘Gentlemen, I’ve given you our situation as fully as I can. The blunt truth is we must make our stand here and hold Caratacus off for as long as possible.’
‘What about Maridius?’ asked Quertus. ‘What do we do with him?’
‘We try to use him. When dawn comes I’ll have him taken to the gatehouse and show him to Caratacus. I will warn him that we will cut his brother’s throat the instant any attack is made on the fort.’
Macro looked at his friend in surprise. ‘You’d do that?’
‘Make the threat, yes. Kill him, no. He’s too important for that. Governor Ostorius will want him alive.’
Quertus leaned forward. ‘And what if the fort is taken? What then?’
Cato was still for a moment before he replied. ‘If it comes to that, then I’ll give the order for him to be killed.’
‘There is another path open to us, Prefect.’
‘I’m open to suggestions, Quertus. Speak on.’
‘We could cut our way out of the fort. March out closed up, and fight through their lines and make for Gobannium.’
Macro shook his head again. ‘That’s madness. There’s too many of them. Our cavalry will have no room to deploy. They’ll be hemmed in and cut down if they stay with the infantry.’ He looked at Quertus with a knowing expression. ‘Of course, it’s possible that the infantry could open a gap and that would give the cavalry the chance to make a break for it. It’d mean sacrificing my men. But you might escape. That’s about the size of it, am I right?’
Quertus showed no reaction for a moment. ‘If we can save one unit, then that’s better than losing two. It’s a simple enough calculation, Centurion.’
Severus glared across the hall. ‘And you call me a coward. .’
Cato stepped forward and raised his voice. ‘Gentlemen, quiet! No one is leaving the fort. We all stay here and fight. There is no other option. Caratacus has thousands of men at his back. I have, what? Quertus, what is the latest strength return on the Thracians?’
‘Two hundred and thirty-eight.’
‘And the wounded?’
‘Twenty-seven, five seriously. The rest are walking wounded.’
‘Not any more. I want every man who can stand ready to take his place on the wall. And you, Macro? Your cohort’s strength?’
‘One hundred and forty-eight, and nine walking wounded. . A hundred and fifty-seven in all. Though most of them still need feeding up.’
Cato did a quick calculation. ‘Four hundred and twenty, or so. Enough to hold the wall either side of the main gate.’
‘Barely,’ said Quertus. ‘Once we start losing men, we’ll be stretched thin.’
Cato shot him a withering look. ‘Obviously. We’ll deal with that if the time comes. Meanwhile, there’s every reason to think we can hold out. We can make our food last for ten more days at least. More, if we cut the rations of the prisoners. The real problem is going to be the horses. With the loss of the haystacks, they’ll have to make do with whatever feed we have inside the fort. Quertus?’
The Thracian officer scratched his jaw. ‘There’s a standing provision of three days in the stables.’
‘Three days?’ Cato thought briefly. ‘Very well, keep one of the squadrons on full feed. The rest of the mounts go on half feed. After two days, cut it to a quarter. If we’re still under siege when the supply is exhausted we’ll have to start slaughtering them. At least that’ll help with the rations for the men. Fresh meat will give them heart.’
Quertus’s expression darkened and his officers stirred and exchanged angry glances. Quertus rose to his feet.
‘No one is killing my horses. Not without my say-so.’
Cato casually clasped his hands behind his back so that no one might see the tense trembling of his fingers. The Thracian had challenged him in front of all the officers. Now was the moment to stand his ground, yet he was filled with fear that he had insufficient authority to compel Quertus and the officers of the auxiliary cohort to bow to his will. He forced himself to speak slowly, clearly and forcefully.
‘I have tolerated your insubordinate manner for long enough, Centurion Quertus. The next time you address me in such a fashion I will have you arrested, regardless of the need for every man I can scrape together to defend the fort. It is because of you that every one of us in this room is in danger. . Now, if I give the order to start slaughtering the horses then it will be done at once and without question, starting with your horse. Is that understood?’
There was a unbearable stillness in the room. Cato stared at his subordinate without blinking. For his part, the Thracian glowered, then at length gritted his teeth and nodded, before slowly easing himself back down on to his bench.
Cato felt a flush of relief flow through his limbs and allowed a moment for the other men to reflect on the Thracian’s climbdown before he continued. ‘If, or when, the enemy attack, Centurion Severus will hold half his century in reserve behind the main gate. Centurion Stellanus will take fifty of the Thracians to cover the sides and rear of the fort. The rest will defend the wall facing the parade ground. Understood?’ Cato glanced round at his officers and they nodded. ‘You know your duty. You have your orders. There’s no more that needs to be said, gentlemen. Centurion Quertus, see to it that your men are divided into two watches. You’ll alternate with the legionaries. Make sure that you keep them on their toes.’
‘My men know their duty, sir,’ Quertus replied sourly.
‘I’m glad to hear it.’ Cato nodded his head towards the door. ‘To your stations then, gentlemen.’
Quertus and his officers filed from the room, followed by Severus and Petillius. Cato caught Macro’s eye and raised a hand to indicate his friend should remain. Macro closed the door and turned back.
‘What is it?’
Cato spoke in a low voice. ‘When the action starts, be sure to keep an eye on Quertus. After what happened in the Silurian village, who knows what he might try to do in the heat of battle.’
‘Don’t worry, lad,’ Macro made himself smile. ‘If he decides to play his little games, he’s going to find out that I play for keeps.’ He drew a finger across his throat and chuckled. ‘Right now, I can’t think of any better way of passing the time than sticking a blade between that bastard’s ribs and giving it a none too gentle twist.’
Cato cocked an eyebrow. ‘Charming thought. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. We need Quertus, for the present, given the hold he has over his men. We’ll deal with him once the siege is over, assuming we’re still around then.’
Macro frowned. ‘An equally bloody charming thought. Thanks for that.’
Cato laughed, and then smiled at the momentary release of tension. He reached for his helmet liner and slipped it on before putting on his helmet and fastening the strap. Macro followed suit but finished before his friend, and noticed the clumsiness of his younger friend’s fingers.
‘Here,’ he said gently. ‘I’ll do that.’
Cato took a step away, and shook his head, angry with himself for betraying the anxiety he felt inside. ‘I can do it.’
He forced himself to continue steadily tying off the thick leather thongs.
‘Do you think Caratacus is going to back down when you threaten his brother, come the morning?’ Macro asked.
Cato lowered his hands and paused. ‘I don’t know. He has marched his army down here to put paid to Quertus and his raids just as much as he has come to rescue Maridius, I should think. If I were in his place, I’d put the need to shore up the support of my allies above the life of my brother. But then I’ve never had a brother so perh
aps I cannot understand the depth of his feeling for Maridius.’
‘I haven’t got a brother either, but I think I would want to save one if I had the chance,’ Macro mused. ‘If I failed in that, then I’d not rest until I had avenged him.’
‘Then you have something in common with Caratacus.’ The thought caught Cato by surprise. Perhaps there was more truth in that than he would like to think. There was a kindred spirit between the likes of Macro and Caratacus, brothers in arms regardless of the causes for which they fought. They had certain attributes of valour, integrity and honesty of feeling that Cato felt he could only aspire to and never achieve. He was too questioning of things to allow himself the pleasure of such certainties. His heart ached as he felt a keen sense of loss over knowing that he could never share the sureness of sentiment enjoyed by Macro.
Macro looked outraged. ‘Me? Share anything with that bastard? Never! Bollocks to that.’ He reached for the latch. ‘The very fucking idea. . I have to get back to the wall.’
Before Cato could say another word his friend had strode out of the room, muttering darkly to himself.
‘So much for the notion of the universal bond of the warrior.’ Cato shrugged and set off after his friend.
Throughout the night the garrison of Bruccium kept watch over the approaches to the fort. Stocks of javelins were brought from the stores and stacked at the foot of the rampart, along with bundles of kindling, tightly bound and liberally doused with pitch so that they would readily catch fire when the time came to bundle them over the wall and illuminate the enemy. Flames flickered in a handful of small braziers spread around the inside of the ramparts and some of the soldiers were warming themselves by the meagre blazes, their faces washed in a ruddy hue. The watches changed as a horn sounded from headquarters, blowing a brief series of notes over the camp. The haystacks had burned fiercely for a while, bathing the ground and the enemy warriors below the fort in a lurid red. The flames died down after midnight and only pinpricks of red still glowed in the darkness.
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