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'You don't like me very much, do you?'
Macro had to face the man now and affected a puzzled frown. 'Sir?'
'Oh, come now!' the cohort commander smiled. 'You've made little secret of your disapproval of me since your appointment to the Third Cohort.'
Macro was startled. Had he really been that transparent? That was very worrying. What else had Maximius seen in him? For an instant he felt a chill of fear spread across the back of his neck. Maximius must be trying to play some trick on him, to test him, maybe to trap him, and Macro's mind reeled in panic.
'Sir, I meant no disrespect! It's just my way. I'm… I'm not very good with people.'
'Bollocks. That's not what I've been told. You're a natural leader. Anyone can see that.' Maximius' eyes narrowed.'Maybe that's it. You think you're better than me.'
Macro shook his head.
'What's this? Too afraid to speak?'
Macro was furious and snapped back his reply. 'I'm not afraid, sir! What do you really want? What do you want me to say, sir?'
'Easy, Centurion! Easy…' Maximius gave a light laugh. 'Just wondered what you were thinking, that's all. No harm intended.'
No harm… Macro felt a bitter contempt for his superior. Good soldiers never played these kinds of games. Only madmen and politicians, and he wasn't sure there was much difference between the two.
'Anyway, I wanted a little talk with you. You've known Cato for a while, haven't you?'
'Ever since he joined the Second, sir.'
'I know. I've looked at the records. So then, you would be the best person to consult about his plans.'
'I wouldn't know about that, sir.'
Maximius nodded thoughtfully.'But you knew the man. I'd value your thoughts on the matter. What do you think Cato will do? He may be dead already. But let's suppose he's still alive. What would he do now? Well?'
'I… I really have no idea, sir.'
'Come on, Macro! Think about it. If I didn't know better, I'd say you were trying to cover for him.'
Macro almost forced himself to laugh, then knew at once that the laughter would sound hollow and fool no one, least of all his nervous commander. 'Sir, you must know my record. You must know that I play by the rules and have no sympathy for any man who breaks them, let alone one who dumps me and the rest of my comrades in the shit. In my book, Cato's got it coming to him. As for what he might do now, I can only guess. I never got to know him well enough to anticipate his actions.' Macro knew that was true enough, and he resisted the urge to smile as he continued. 'He could do anything. Cato might try and make a play for Caratacus himself.'
'That's absurd. He'd never stand a chance.'
'He knows that, sir. But the army is the only family Cato has got. Without us, he's nothing. He'd do anything to earn his place back in the legion. That's why I'm sure he's out there in the marsh somewhere, biding his time and waiting for the right opportunity. Why, he's probably watching us right now… And he wouldn't be the only one, sir. Look there!'
Macro nodded down towards the nearest farmstead. A small number of figures were looking towards the fort from behind some low hayricks barely a quarter of a mile away. The distant figures just watched and made no movement.
'Want me to send out a patrol to scare 'em off, sir?'
'No.' Maximius stared hard at the farmers. 'That can wait until tomorrow. In the meantime let the locals spread word of our arrival, and let them sweat. We want to generate all the fear and anxiety we can.'
The next morning the cohort broke camp and marched down the valley. Macro was aware of being watched every step of the way. Occasionally he would glance round and catch sight of a face disappearing behind a tree, or dropping out of sight amid one of the fields of crops they passed by. His long years of experience had given him a good eye for the ground and he scrutinised any good sites for an ambush as they marched along. But there was no ambush, not one act of defiant hostility as the legionaries tramped along through the peaceful valley.
After an hour's steady marching the column followed the track around the forest and turned up the slope of the small hillock Maximius had chosen for their camp. To their left, across the stream, on a gentle rise, sprawled a large village comprised of the usual round huts, together with smaller structures for stables and storage. Smoke eddied gently from the vents of a number of the huts. A few figures moved on the palisade that surrounded the village and Macro noted that the gates were closed.
'Officers on me!' Maximius bellowed.
When all his centurions and optios had gathered the cohort commander removed his helmet, mopped his brow with the felt liner and began his briefing. The rest of the men began work on the area marked out for the camp by the surveyors. A screen of sentries spread out around the crown of the hill, while their comrades began to swing their pickaxes, breaking up the ground for the ditch and rampart.
'Tullius!'
'Sir?'
'I want an extra ditch dug around the camp. Make sure that the ground between the ditches is sown with caltrops. Have some Lilies dug into the ground as well.'
Tullius nodded approvingly. The small pits with sharpened stakes at their centre would be a useful additional defence.
'Yes, sir. I'll pass the word to the surveyor.'
'No. You'll see to it yourself. I want it done properly. I also want a fortified gateway thrown across the main track where it comes out of that marsh. See that it's taken care of the moment our camp is erected.'
'Yes, sir.'
'Now then,' Maximius cleared his throat, and focused his attention on the optios.'You know why we're here. The general and the legate want those men brought back. They're out there in the marsh, as far as we know. You optios will be ru
Some of the officers exchanged looks of surprise. There had been no indication of trouble as they marched down the valley, and the farmers that lived here probably wielded nothing more deadly than a scythe.
Maximius smirked at their expressions. 'I can see that some of you think I'm being over cautious. Maybe, but don't forget that Caratacus still has a few men left, wherever he is…'
Quite enough men, thought Macro. At least enough to wipe out the cohort.
'You don't have to worry about the locals. And you don't have to worry about creating any good relations with them. In fact,' Maximius paused to lend weight to his next words, 'I want you to treat them in a way that makes it painfully clear that Rome is here to stay, and that they are absolutely beholden to our will and at our mercy. You will punish any sign of resistance as harshly as you can… Do you understand?'
Heads nodded, and there was a murmur of assent.
'Good. Because if I see any of you going soft on the natives, or showing one shred of compassion or sympathy, then that man will have me to answer to, directly. And I will personally kick his balls through the top of his skull. Clear? Now then, all we need to do is set the tone…'
Half an hour later the First Century set off down the slope with Maximius at the head of the column, accompanied by all the optios and Centurions Macro, Antonius and Felix. Tullius, the most senior officer after Maximius, was left to oversee the construction of the camp, and watched anxiously as the small column tramped towards the native village on the far side of the stream. A trampled and churned fu