The Eagles Prey

Tullius looked from Cato to Maximius and back again and rubbed his face. 'Damn you, Cato! You'll be the death of me.'

'We're all dead in the end, sir. All that matters is to make certain your death isn't pointless. If we release him now, Maximius will have us killed like dogs. If he saves us for trial, then we'll just die in chains when Caratacus gets here. But if we – you – take command, then there's a chance some of us will survive the attack. Better still, we might even be able to cripple Caratacus's force. If that happens then it's possible General Plautius will overlook this.'

'Fucking fat chance of that!' Maximius snorted.

Cato ignored him, concentrating his attention on Tullius. 'Sir, you change your mind now and you're dead. Stick with our plan, and we may live. That's all the choice there is.'

Tullius bit his lip, caught in an agony of indecision. At last he nodded his assent.

'Good!' Macro clapped him on the shoulder, then turned to Antonius. 'And you? Are you with us?'

'Yes…but if it comes to a trial I want it understood that I was obeying your orders.'

Macro snorted. 'Thanks for the loyal support.'

'Loyalty?' Antonius arched an eyebrow. 'That's in rather short supply at present. I just want to live. If the choice is as Cato has described it, then going along with you is simply the best bet.'

'Fine by me,' said Cato. 'Nepos, take these two through to Maximius' sleeping quarters and tie them to the bed. Gag them as well. They have to be kept silent.'

'There's a better way of keeping 'em quiet,' Macro added.

'No, sir. That's not necessary. Not yet.'

While Nepos dragged the two bound officers away, the rest gathered round the large desk in the centre of the tent. For a moment there was an uneasy silence before Cato cleared his throat and turned to Tullius.

'Sir, what are your orders?'

'Orders?' The veteran looked confused.

'You're the senior officer present,' Cato prompted.'We have to make sure the cohort is ready to defend itself. The plan, sir?'

'The plan? Oh, yes.' Tullius gathered his thoughts, looked over the desk for the map of the surrounding marsh that Maximius had drafted, based on reports from the patrols, and any information the local villagers had been persuaded to divulge. The sketched marks of small tracks crisscrossed the outline of the marsh. A broader line marked the main route through the marsh, leading north towards the upper reaches of the Tamesis. Tullius placed his finger on the map.

'If Cato is right, that's where Caratacus and his force will be coming from. There are a handful of other tracks that could be used to enter the valley, but they're not suitable for large bodies of men. So, we're counting on him coming down the main track. That's where we'll have to hold him. Build up the existing gateway and hope we can hold it.'

Antonius looked up.'Leave the fort? But that's madness, sir. If he outnumbers us why not fight him from proper defences? It's our best chance.'

'No, it's not,' Cato interrupted. 'Centurion Tullius is right. We have to try and hold him back, stop him breaking out of the marsh and into the valley.'

'Why?'

'When I escaped from his camp-'

'His camp?' Antonius looked astonished.'How on earth-'

Cato raised a hand to silence him.'I'll explain it to you later, sir. The thing is, I sent my optio north with a message for Vespasian. He should have reached him by now. So Vespasian will know about the location of Caratacus' camp. He'll also know that he intends to attack the Third Cohort and which route he is likely to take. If I know the legate, he'll see this as an opportunity to finish Caratacus off. If he takes the legion and advances down that track, he'll be able to fall upon the rear of the enemy force. Caratacus will be caught between Vespasian and the Third Cohort and cut to pieces, provided we can contain him in the marsh. And that means leaving the fort and taking up position across the track. If we stay in the fort, then Caratacus will be able to escape south the moment he spots Vespasian's forces.'

'That's a lot of ifs,' Antonius remarked quietly.'I'll add a few of my own: what if Figulus doesn't make it? What if Vespasian doesn't believe him? What if you're wrong? What if Vespasian doesn't act?'

'It's true, Figulus might not reach the legion,' Cato admitted. 'We have to hope that he did. The fact that he's risking execution by returning to the legion must carry some weight. We have to count on the legate seeing the opportunity to end this campaign once and for all.'

'And if he doesn't?'

'Then we'll hold Caratacus off, for a while at least. If we cause enough damage then maybe they'll pull back long enough for us to try and get back to the fort. Otherwise,' Cato shrugged, 'otherwise they'll eventually roll over us and cut the cohort to pieces.'

'Thanks.' Antonius clicked his tongue. 'Most inspiring briefing I've ever had.'

'The thing is,' Cato continued.'We have to get into position as fast as we can, and prepare the defences. Sir?' He turned to Tullius. 'We're ready for your orders.'

'Just a moment,' Antonius interrupted and jabbed his thumb towards the cohort commander's sleeping quarters. 'But what are we going to do about those two?'

'I suggest we leave them here, sir.'

'And how are we going to explain Maximius' absence to the men? Him and Felix?'

'We're not. Tullius can give all the orders as if they're from Maximius. He's the adjutant. Who would question him?'

'If Maximius fails to put in an appearance, they might.'

Cato smiled. 'By then, they'll have other things on their minds.'

Then he heard the rhythmic tramp of marching boots, approaching the tent. He glanced at Tullius.

'Someone's coming.'

The older centurion hurried to the tent flap, looked outside briefly, then turned to the others.

'It's Cordus, and he's got Maximius' guards with him.'

05 The Eagles Prey

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

Macro grabbed Tullius by the shoulder.'Get out there and deal with him.'

'What shall I say?'

'Anything. Just don't let him get inside the tent. If he does, it's all over for us.'

Tullius swallowed nervously, then steadied himself for an instant and ducked outside.

'Cordus! There you are. What the hell kept you?'

'I-I was in the village, sir.' The tone was aggrieved, verging on insolent.'Like you ordered. The natives have started on the ditch, sir.'

'Good job. Well done. Now we've got work to do. The cohort's on the move. Your orders are to pass the word for all units to assemble, fully equipped.'

'All the men, sir?'

'That's what Maximius said.'

'Who's going to oversee the natives?'

'Send them back to the village, and release all the hostages.'

'Release the-' Cordus' voice started to rise, before he took control of his frustration. 'Yes, sir. I'll see to it.'

'Good. Once that's done, take your century down to the track that leads into the marsh. Start work on strengthening the existing gateway. We need to prepare it for an attack in strength. I want the rampart higher and the ditch dug deeper, and wider. We have to be able to defend it.'

'Defend it from who, sir?'

'The enemy. Who else? It seems that Caratacus plans to attack after all. Now carry out your orders.'

'Yes, sir…But first, I must report to Centurion Maximius. Excuse me, sir.'

Inside the tent Macro and Cato exchanged anxious glances, and Cato tightened his grip on the cohort commander's sword.

'Make your report later!' Tullius snapped. 'Carry out your orders, or I'll have you on a bloody charge.'

'I don't think so, sir,' Cordus replied quietly. 'We'll see what Maximius has to say about this.'

'On whose authority do you think I give these orders?' Tullius shouted back. 'Get out of my sight, you jumped-up little prick! Go, before I have you for gross insubordination.'