The Eagles Conquest

'Optio!' A man at the end of the line raised a hand. His features were strikingly rugged and fortunately Cato managed to recall his name. 'Cicero, isn't it? What can I do for you?'

'Just wondered if the centurion's having us on. Are you really our optio?'

'Yes. Of course I am!' Cato coloured.

'How long have you been in the army, Optio?'

A series of chuckles rolled lightly down the line of men.

'Long enough. Now then, anything else? No? Right then, roll call at first light in full marching order. Dismissed!'

As the replacements ambled off, Cato clenched his fists angrily behind his back, ashamed of his performance. Behind him in the tent he could hear the regular rasp of Macro's blade on the whetstone. He could not face the inevitable ridicule of his centurion. At length the noise stopped.

'Cato, old son.'

'Sir?'

'You might well be one of the brightest and bravest lads I've served with.'

Cato blushed. 'Well, thank you, sir.'

'But that was about the most dismal welcome address I've ever witnessed. I've heard more inspiring speeches at accounts clerks' retirement bashes. I thought you knew all about this sort of thing.'

'I've read about it, sir.'

'I see. Then you'd better supplement the theory with a bit more practice.' This sounded rather good to Macro, and he smiled at the happy turn of phrase. He felt more than a little gratified by his subordinate's failure to do the job properly, in spite of his privileged palace education. As was so often the case, evidence of a weak chink in another man's accomplishments produced a warm, affectionate feeling in him and he gri

'Never mind, lad. You've proved yourself often enough up to now.' As Cato struggled to find a face-saving response, he became aware of a ripple of excitement sweeping across the depot. Over in the direction of the jetty, men were scrambling up the reverse slope to the palisade where they crowded along the sentry walk.

'Hello. What's going on?' Macro came out of the tent and stood at his optio's side.

'Must be something coming in from the sea,' suggested Cato.

As they watched, more men crowded the palisade, and still more men flowed between the tent lines to join them. There were shouts now, just audible above a swelling din of excited chatter. 'The Emperor! The Emperor!'

'Come on!' said Marco and he trotted towards the far side of the depot, with Cato close behind him.

Soon they merged with the others hurrying towards the Cha

'Make way there!' Macro bellowed. 'Make way! Centurion coming through:'

The men grudgingly deferred to his rank, and moments later Macro was hard up against the wooden stakes, with Cato by his side, both staring out across the Cha

'Can you see the Emperor?' Macro asked. 'Your eyes are younger than mine.'

Cato sca

The legionaries waited excitedly for a sign of Claudius. Someone started a chant of 'We want the Emperor! We want Claudius!' that quickly caught on. It rippled along the palisade and echoed out across the Cha

'Why's the Emperor not landing?' asked Macro.

From his childhood in the imperial palace Cato recalled the lengthy protocols that accompanied the official movements of the Emperor, and could guess at the reason for the delay easily enough. 'I expect he'll land tomorrow, when the full ceremony for welcoming an emperor can be laid on.'

'Oh.' Macro was disappointed. 'Nothing worth seeing tonight then?'

'I doubt it, sir.'

'Right, well, I expect there's some work we can be getting on with. And there's some of that wine that still needs drinking. Coming?'

Cato knew Macro well enough by now to recognise the difference between a genuine choice and a politely worded order.

'No thank you, sir. I'd like to stay and watch for a while.'

'Suit yourself.'

As dusk gathered, the other men on the wall slowly drifted away.

Cato leaned forward, resting his elbow in the notch between two stakes and cupping his chin on one palm as he gazed at the of shipping now filling the Cha

'Elephants!' he exclaimed.

His surprise was shared by the few men remaining along the palisade.

Elephants had not been used in battle for over a hundred years. Though they presented a terrifying spectacle to those facing them on the battlefield, well-trained soldiers could neutralise them very quickly. And, if badly handled, elephants could be as much of a danger to their own side as the enemy. Modern armies had little use for them and the only elephants Cato had ever seen were those in the beast pens behind the Circus Maximus. Quite what they were doing here in Britain was anybody's guess. Surely, he thought, the Emperor can't be intending to use them in battle. They must be here for some ceremonial purpose, or to put the fear of the gods into the hearts of the Britons.

As he watched one of the elephant transports, a section of the vessel's side was removed and a broad gangway was manhandled onto the jetty.

Sailors lowered a heavy treaded ramp into the hold and spread a mix of straw and earth up the ramp and across the gangway, These familiar smells would be badly needed to comfort to the animals after the uncertain motion of the sea journry journey from Gesoriacum. Satisfied that all was in place, the captain gave the order to unload the elephants. A moment later amid anxious trumpeting, an elephant driver urged an elephant up the ramp and onto the deck. Even though Cato had seen them before, the sudden emergence of the vast grey bulk of the beast with its wicked tusks still awed him and he caught his breath before reassuring himself that he was safe enough where he was. The elephant driver tapped his stick against the back of the animal's head and it tentatively lumbered onto the gangway, causing the transport to tip slightly at the shift in weight. The elephant paused and raised its trunk, but the driver whacked the stick down and with clearly visible expressions of relief from the men. the elephant crossed to the jetty.