‘Welcome, Centurion. Until today you were probationary, under the assessment of these men, your brothers- to-be. For all our initial doubts, it is our belief that you will make an excellent addition to our number, and provide leadership for your century that will be sorely needed in the coming days. This is your moment to renounce your past and join your brother officers in our chosen duty…’
He paused significantly, giving Marcus an interrogatory stare.
‘Do you wish to become a part of the cohort’s brotherhood, in spite of the heavy weight of responsibility that the position brings, renouncing all that has gone before in your life?’
Julius nudged his arm.
‘… Yes, First Spear.’
‘Do you swear to uphold the traditions of the cohort, even at cost of your life?’
‘Yes, First Spear.’
‘Will you give faithful service to the cohort until death or the end of your service?’
‘Yes, First Spear.’
‘Will you fight and die as commanded by your superiors?’
‘Yes, First Spear.’
‘Will you demand the same of your men if required?’
‘Yes, First Spear.’
‘And will you pay appropriate respect to the cohort’s chosen god, mighty Cocidius the warrior?’
‘Yes, First Spear.’
‘Very well, Marcus Tribulus Corvus, I formally and irrevocably appoint you a centurion of the First Tungrian Cohort. Your previous life ends in this place, purged in the fire. Your new life begins here, forged in the fire. Remember your vows well, youngest brother, for the time for you to fulfil them will come when you least expect it. Be true to your words.’
He walked forward, offering Marcus his hand, and the other officers crowded round with congratulations and slaps on his back.
‘Now, brothers, there is one last matter with our new brother officer before we give thanks to Cocidius for his meeting our high standards. Within a week we’ll be camping alongside the other Wall units, some of them cohorts of doubtful honour and with many sharp ears besides. If it becomes obvious that we have a Roman officer serving with the cohort, that information might reach the wrong people. The men who destroyed our brother’s family and made him outlaw for no good reason would come for him, and that would most likely bring death and dishonour on all of us, and our families, and upon the prefect for that matter. Understand me clearly, we have taken a calculated risk in accepting this man into our family. From this moment he is to be referred to only as “Centurion” or by the unofficial title that his century has seen fit to give him. Make sure that your deputies are all aware of the rule, and their soldiers. From now, this man is to be known only by the name of Two Knives.’
8
Legatus Sollemnis arrived on the Wall at the Rock with the Sixth Legion’s cavalry detachment shortly after darkness fell two nights later. The rest of the legion was more than thirty miles back down the road to Yew Grove, encamped after a day slogging their way north at the forced march, and still a day away. He had raced forward to take control of the Wall forces on receiving word from his Asturian scouts, ranging across the frontier zone under Perennis’s command, reports that the barbarian warband was already in the field. Their latest dispatches had Calgus poised to strike down the North Road towards his main eastern strength, and a much greater prize besides. Once past the Rock, the Wall’s eastern gateway, it was less than a five-mile march south to Noisy Valley, his main supply base for the Wall units. This, he suspected, was the prize for which Calgus would commit his strength.
Jumping down from his horse, he hurried into the fort’s headquarters, acknowledging the sentries’ salutes with a distracted wave of his hand. As he’d hoped, not only the cohort’s grim-faced prefect but also his own senior tribune Appius were waiting for him in the lamplight, a map of the area spread across the table in front of them.
‘Gentlemen, I suspect we haven’t much time so I’ll forgo the usual formalities. What’s the situation?’
Appius swiftly painted a picture for him, pointing to the key points on the map.
‘Calgus has thrown at least two-thirds of his force straight down the main road, with no attempt at concealment whatsoever. They’re about ten miles out right now and coming straight on. They’ve already burnt out the fort at Three Mountains, Yew Tree and Red River, and we expect them to do the same to Roaring River very shortly.’
‘What about the garrisons?’
‘The cavalry detachment attached to the Three Mountains garrison seems to have attempted a defence of the fort. A few survivors have straggled in, but from their reports we shouldn’t expect to recover the unit. The Brits seem to have a substantial cavalry force in the field, perhaps five hundred horses.’
‘Fools! Of all the times that we can least afford to lose horsemen… and the detachments at the other forts?’
‘Falling back in good order, sir. It would seem that the sight of burning forts on the horizon got their attention.’
‘At least we can count them into our covering force. What about the Twentieth?’
‘A messenger arrived three hours ago, with bad news, I’m afraid sir. Twentieth Legion won’t arrive for another five days; they’ve had problems of their own with the local tribes. The Second has caught up with them as planned, but they’ve still only got as far as Veterans’ Hill.’
Sollemnis frowned at the news.
‘Still several days out, then, yet how I long for their arrival. Until they join us Calgus has the initiative, and from the way he’s acting I’d say he knows it. I should have put the Sixth in play three days ago, instead of which they’ll arrive footsore and in need of rest late tomorrow.’
He rubbed at tired eyes, shaking his head wryly.
‘I gambled that the delay was compensated by my flexibility to move either side of the mountains if Calgus’s move down the North Road were a feint to distract me from the west. It was a poor guess, despite the strategic sense it made, and so here we are scrambling to catch up with the game.’
He rubbed at his weary eyes again before slapping the table with decision.
‘We shall have to manage with what we have. Prefect Galen, have your men ready to pull out within the hour, and burn everything that will burn. Calgus won’t stop at Roaring River; he needs to keep his men on the move if he’s going to try what I think he intends, so I expect the warband to be knocking at your gates before daybreak. You’re to pull back to the east and link up with the auxiliary battlegroup forming at Cauldron Pool. Appius…’
‘Legatus.’
‘Send riders to the Sixth, I want them moving up the road at first light and no later, forced march. Send riders to the prefects at White Strength and Cauldron Pool; warn them that the Rock and Noisy Valley are being abandoned, and that they’re on their own for the time being. They’re authorised to pull cohorts from the Wall units farther down the line in both directions if they see fit to form larger formations, but I don’t want fighting men thrown away defending ground needlessly. As far as I’m concerned Calgus can mess about on the Wall as much as he wants – the forts are just wooden walls for the most part. We built them once, we can build them again. Men are more important than ground at this point, make that very clear.’
The officer nodded his understanding, scribbling notes on a wax tablet.
‘Good. I’m riding south to Noisy Valley with my bodyguard, we’ll have to prepare what’s left of their supplies for the torch if we’re going to deny Calgus that stepping stone, but I want to get as many more wagons away as possible beforehand. You’re to stay here and help make sure the local boys get away in good order, and that the fort is burned out in good time. I don’t want to be fighting outside these walls when we come north again.’
‘Yes, sir. What do you think Calgus intends after he gets south of the Wall?’
‘If I was Calgus, I’d have my eye fixed on two prizes. Firstly I’d want to take Noisy Valley intact, with its supplies and weapons. That way he can keep his men moving without having to forage for food, either south for Yew Grove or west to roll up the Wall forts. Then I’d be looking to destroy our legions one at a time, overwhelm
