The Legion

The brevity of his address left most of his officers surprised. It took a moment before one of the older centurions, whom Cato recognised as being amongst the cronies of the late Aurelius, stood up. Centurion Aescher stared coolly at Cato and then gave him an insincere smile.

'Sir, I think I speak for most here when I say that the loss of the acting legate is keenly felt. It comes as a hard blow on top of the death of the previous legate and the discovery of the spy that you unwittingly brought into our camp.'

Cato tried not to register his surprise and a

'One might be forgiven for thinking the Jackals have been cursed. Both previous commanders were men of immense experience in the service. Both knew the legion and its men well. Therefore, sir, you will understand me when I say that it is in the best interests of the legion, this army and Rome if we send a request to the governor in Alexandria to appoint a new, permanent, commander of the legion. It is in no way a judgement on your competence, sir. Rather, it is a reflection of the troubled state of the men's morale. They would prefer to be led by a man with the requisite experience and seniority,' the centurion concluded and resumed his seat.

'Thank you,' said Cato. 'Is there anyone else who wishes to speak?'

He looked round, but the officers kept their silence as they waited for him to respond to the centurion's remarks. Cato nodded. 'Very well, then. Your comments are noted. Now, hear my words.' Cato stared round the room. 'There will be no request. There is no time to refer the matter to the governor. I have assumed command legally and I will not tolerate any attempt to question my authority. The situation is too serious for playing games, gentlemen. The province is in great danger. We must deal with the threat swiftly and decisively. You may make all the protests you like once the Nubians have been defeated.'

The centurion rose again. 'Sir, might I ask what was wrong with the original plan? Legate Aurelius-'

'Acting Legate Aurelius,' Macro interrupted. 'Rather, Former Acting Legate Aurelius.'

The centurion shot Macro a hostile look before he continued. 'The previous commander's plan seemed sound enough to me. Your plan seems to be rather less subtle and far less likely to result in the trapping and destruction of the Nubians… sir.'

'Really?' Cato responded flatly. 'Forgive me, but I thought it was a common maxim of military strategy not to divide a weaker force in the face of a stronger one. Or do you do things differently here in Egypt?'

The sarcastic note of the last comment was not lost on the centurion and his companions. Cato ignored the brief chorus of mutters and continued. 'Aurelius's plan would have led to disaster. Our forces would each be defeated in turn and then Prince Talmis would be free to rampage across the province until such time as the Emperor could assemble an army large enough to drive the Nubians out. Meanwhile, the damage to wheat production and the destruction of the cities along the Nile would take many years to recover from. The same fate would await Egypt if we just sit on our arses and wait for a new commander to be sent to us. The only course of action that stands any chance of saving the army and the province is to strike at the enemy at once, with every man we can scrape together.' Cato paused and looked over the faces of the officers, men he needed to make his own if he was to have any chance of success. He moderated his tone when he spoke again.

'I do not need to explain myself to you, gentlemen. I have acted within the regulations laid down by the imperial army bureau, in the name of Emperor Claudius. That should suffice under normal conditions. I accept that our situation is somewhat irregular, but then when is war ever a neat and tidy affair? Until recent days the Twenty-Second Legion has been a garrison unit. The only action many of you and your men have seen is a minor skirmish as part of some police action or some punitive raid against brigands. Frankly, compared to the other legions that Centurion Macro and I have had the honour of serving with, the Jackals are second-rate. To be sure, the men are trained and exercised according to regulations, but they lack combat experience. That is the only true test of a soldier's value. It is a hard-won attribute. Now, some of the men have had the chance to prove themselves in the assault on the temple and they did well enough, but most of the men, and officers, are still to be tested. Including you, Centurion Aescher. I do not say this out of any desire to undermine you, but as a statement of fact. The other fact that ca

Macro stirred uneasily at his friend's words then fixed his face in a stern expression and stood stock still.

'The Jackals have the potential to be fine soldiers,' Cato continued. 'And our victory over the Nubians will give them a chance to win a battle honour for their eagle standard. But I will not lie to you about the scale of the challenge facing us. You must understand, and get your men to understand, that there are only two paths ahead of us when we march out to face the enemy – one leads to victory, the other to certain death. Now that I and Centurion Macro are in command, your chances have improved. The rest is up to you. Forget the past. Forget your plans for the future. Think only of killing your enemy. That is all that matters. It's a simple enough philosophy, gentlemen, and it has worked well enough for Centurion Macro and me over the years we have served together. Isn't that so?'

'Yes, sir!' Macro nodded.

Cato took a deep breath and looked round at his officers, seeing some spark of determination in their expressions. That was good, he reflected. Some of his words had struck home. He had done what he could to instil the right state of mind in his officers and stiffen their resolve in the face of the great test to come. 'The army marches from Karnak at first light tomorrow. You have the rest of the day to prepare your men, equipment and supplies. Dismissed!'

The officers stood up and began to make their way out of the courtyard, many of them conversing in low voices. Macro stood still until the last of them had left and then let his shoulders droop a little as he exhaled in a long, weary sigh.

'What do you think?' asked Cato.

'Oh, you were on fine form, lad. I have to say that I've heard the victory or death routine more than once before. So have you. It's an old line but, so help me, it still stirs the blood.'

'Hmmm. I meant what do you think about our officers?'

Macro jerked his thumb towards the entrance to the courtyard. 'That lot? Not the best I've ever come across, and possibly not the worst.'

'That doesn't sound very encouraging.'

'Oh, they'll fight when the time comes.' Macro shrugged nonchalantly. 'After all, what choice have they got?'

'None, as it happens. I had the report from one of the patrols just before the briefing began. The Nubian army is still camped a day's march to the south. It has been for the last two days. It seems that Prince Talmis is challenging us to come out and face him.'

'Or we could wait for him here and hold him off.'

'No. If we do that, he'll surround us, bide his time and starve us into surrender. Either way, he has the advantage.'

Macro looked at his younger friend and could see the exhaustion marked in his face, and the bloodshot eyes. Cato had removed the sling before the officers had arrived and now supported his left arm with his spare hand. Macro felt a stab of paternal concern for Cato. 'Look here, there's nothing to be done now. The officers will make the preparations and I'll keep watch over them to make sure they do a good job. You should rest. Let that arm recover. We're going to need you in good shape tomorrow. Can't afford to have tiredness cloud your thinking. Not with all our lives at stake.'