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Cato involuntarily looked back towards the forest in the distance. The place had been u

Macro shook his head. 'Too far. Besides we can make torches if we need to. You aren't scared, are you, boy?'

'No, sir.'

'Good. Stay that way,' Macro said with relief, hoping that his five sestertii were still safe.

Down in the village the argument was being forced to a conclusion as Vitellius waved his hand at the woman and two soldiers abruptly pi

'Seems like our man has got away,' Macro remarked, and yawned elaborately. 'The tribune shouldn't have wasted time on the woman.'

'Unless she's the kind of woman the tribune takes a shine to,' the standard bearer muttered. 'You know what Vitellius is like with women, can't resist the impulse to chat 'em up.'

'He should do it on his own time then. Not the army's. And certainly not mine. And not on a bloody cold day like this.'

'Sir!' Cato interrupted. 'Look there! The gate!'

For some reason the gate was slowly being closed and, as Macro watched, the small drawbridge began to rise. A cold feeling of dread, far colder than the trickle of sweat on a winter day, etched its way down his spine. He shifted his gaze to the centre of the village, but Vitellius and his men seemed unconcerned and continued with the house raids. Beyond the far wall of the village a faint movement attracted his gaze. A shadow was emerging from the forest, as if the sun was setting sooner than it should. Then he realised it couldn't be, the sun was behind the cohort.

'Cato! Your eyes are younger than mine. What's happening over there – at the edge of the forest there!' He pointed urgently.

For a moment Cato wasn't sure, a sight haze had risen over the low ground and partially obscured the view. But a moment later the blurry shadow distilled into distinct shapes. 'I think… I'm sure, it's a body of men. Coming out of the forest, this way.'

He looked at Macro wide-eyed. 'Germans?'

'What else?' Macro replied dryly.

'But what about the others in the village?' Cato said in alarm. 'They can't see.'

'I know, boy. I know.'

More of the men saw the approaching danger and pointed it out to their comrades. An anxious murmuring swept up and down the line.

'Quiet, there!' Macro bellowed. 'Shut your mouths and stand still!'

The legionaries obeyed instantly the moment discipline was invoked. Puffing down the line came Centurion Quadratus of the Second – the senior officer present.

'Macro! You see 'em?'

'Yes.'

'We'd better get down there and join the others.'

'We were ordered to remain here,' Macro replied firmly. 'Unless Vitellius signalled us to move.'

'But he can't see them.' Quadratus jabbed a finger towards the approaching Germans, in their thousands now as they poured out of the forest towards the village.

'If we go down there, then we'll all be caught in the trap,' said Macro. 'I suggest we try and attract their attention instead.'



Quadratus stared at Macro a moment and then nodded. He turned to face down the line and cupped his hands to his mouth. 'Standards! Signal recall!'

The remaining five standard bearers raised their standards high and began slowly circling the hanging pendants. Macro looked down at the village where the soldiers of the First century carried on seizing portable items of value, oblivious to the approaching catastrophe.

'Come on, come on!' Quadratus muttered. 'Someone look up… this way.'

Finally they saw a soldier gesture towards them with his javelin and Vitellius turned in his saddle. For a moment he sat motionless on his horse, then turned and frantically waved an arm. The soldier who had seen them rushed from the clearing and shortly after reappeared at the top of one of the gate towers. Even as he did so, figures emerged in the spaces between the village buildings surrounding Vitellius and his men. The century quickly formed up in close order and backed out of the clearing towards the gate. Some of the villagers ran forward and threw stones and lumps of wood at the retreating Romans. A sudden shower of javelins from the rearmost ranks rained down on the villagers, leaving half a dozen prostrate as the others fled back into the narrow alleys. The century was soon lost from sight behind the village buildings as it headed back to the gate.

From the hill, the Germans approaching from the forest were now in clear view and it was possible to estimate their numbers and speed of approach.

'Three, maybe four thousand,' Quadratus guessed.

Macro shook his head. 'Barely that I'd say.'

'Vitellius should have time to get out before they reach the village.'

'Easily. They're still nearly a mile from the far side of the village. Once Vitellius clears the gateway he should make the crest before they get anywhere near.'

'Then what?'

'Don't know,' Macro shrugged. 'We'll just have to wait and see what he orders.'

Cato stared at the two officers in disbelief. How on earth could they be so cold-blooded when their comrades faced imminent extinction right under their eyes? And after that, the rest of the cohort would be outnumbered ten to one. He felt a burning desire to turn and run, to shout out to all the others to do the same. But his body refused to move, partly out of shame and partly out of the dread of making the return journey through the forest alone. While he stood motionless, Cato's gaze continued to flicker between the approaching Germans and the village, watching for the progress of the First century. There was a sudden motion in one of the tower gates, the legionary sent there by Vitellius was seized by a group of men, a spear run through him and the body hurled into the ditch.

'Sir!'

'I saw it, boy'

A series of flashes and glints marked the arrival of the First century at the edge of the village and a brief struggle was fought out for control of the gate. All the while the Germans swarmed nearer to close the trap.

'It's going to be a close thing,' mused Quadratus. 'Better get ready to make a fighting retreat. I'll get the other centuries back on the track. Macro, I want you to stand here and cover our backs until Vitellius arrives.'

'All right.' Macro nodded. 'But you'd better move fast.'

Quadratus made his way down the line shouting out the necessary commands, and one by one the centuries on the crest turned from line into column and marched back towards the track. At the same time, Macro ordered the Sixth ten paces down the slope to clear the head of the track for Quadratus. Down in the village, Cato could see that the First century had managed to overwhelm the villagers at the gate and legionaries were pulling back the thick wooden gate to make their escape. With Vitellius riding at their head, the First doubled up the hill towards the rest of the cohort. A small crowd of villagers followed behind, but quickly gave up once a fresh volley of javelins was hurled back at them.

Once the century was safely away from the village, Vitellius spurred his horse up the slope to take command of the cohort. He reined in beside Macro, the horse snorting harshly over the frothy bit as a savage gash on its flank bled profusely.

'What the hell's going on here, centurion?' he shouted angrily. 'Where's the rest?'

'Quadratus has moved them back on to the track, sir,' Macro explained.

'What for? Scared of a few bloody villagers? I'm taking the whole cohort back in there and we're going to burn the bastards to the ground!'

'Sir,' Macro interrupted. 'If you care to look over there.'