western legions would arrive weeks earlier than he had expected. Now the warband was pulling back from the Wall in good order, its leaders happy enough to follow his direction and keep a muzzle on their men’s urge to fight. Calgus turned to face his adviser, the older man’s face inscrutable in the dusk’s failing light.
‘Your counsel is true, as always, Aed. I’ll give the tribes all the heads they can carry, granted their patience for a few days.’
The Romans could skulk behind their defences for the time being – his warband would have vanished into the north by the time they stirred to follow. The trick now would be tempting the 6th’s legatus to follow them on to a killing ground that Calgus would choose with care. That, and a little inside assistance.
10
Marcus woke again in the middle of the next morning, his head relatively clear, and his stomach growling for food. Clodia Drusilla took one look at him and ordered a bed bath and a meal, both administered by a stone-faced orderly who responded to Marcus’s attempts at conversation with monosyllabic grunts. Hot water, a borrowed blade and a clean tunic lifted his spirits, even if he was still weak enough to fall back on to his bed exhausted afterwards, and a small meal of bread, dried fish and vegetables left him replete. He slept again almost immediately, and was woken by a hand gently shaking his shoulder.
It was Licinius, the Petriana’s prefect, smiling down at him with a glint of triumph. Dressed in a mud-stained tunic and armour, he had clearly come to the hospital directly from the saddle. The shutter was closed, and Licinius was carrying a lamp, adding its illumination to that of the lamp already burning by the bed.
‘Ah, there you are, Centurion.’
Marcus pulled himself up on to his elbows, subsiding back on to the pillow that his superior hastily pushed beneath his straining body.
‘The orderly tried to send me away. Now I’ve seen you, I think I understand why. Are you up to talking?’
Marcus declined the chance to put the conversation off once more, too tired to be bothered with his own safety any longer.
‘Yes, Prefect, we can talk, but tell me, what time is it? What’s happening out there?’
The other man sat on the short stool provided for the purpose, hunching forward to hear Marcus’s tired whisper. As he opened his mouth to speak again, Felicia burst through the door, her mouth a thin white-lipped slash in a face pale with anger. The prefect leapt to his feet, bowing respectfully.
‘Clodia Drusilla, my dear, what a pleasure to see you again. I…’
She pushed a fist into his face, making him step back in surprise, almost tumbling over the stool.
‘You have no right or permission to be here, and as this officer’s doctor I’m ordering you to get out. Now!’
Marcus raised a hand, forestalling her outburst.
‘It’s all right, Doctor, just a friendly conversation…’
She turned on him, wagging a finger threateningly.
‘That isn’t your decision, Centurion, and besides…’
‘No more running.’
‘What?’
‘No more running from the truth. Not from an honourable Roman prefect.’
‘But…’
Her reproach ran dry, leaving her staring helplessly at the bedridden centurion for a moment. She turned and left the room in silence. Licinius sat down again, raising an eyebrow at Marcus.
‘Clodia Drusilla seems very protective of you, young man. Perhaps y’should consider your position very carefully with regard to that young lady. I happen to be acquainted with her husband well enough to know the way he’ll behave if he suspects his property is being coveted by another…’
Marcus looked at him questioningly, until the older man shrugged his shoulders.
‘Never mind. Just watch yourself there. As to the time, it’s late in the afternoon, two days after you took what was by all accounts quite a thump on the head. As to what’s happening outside…’
He paused, rubbing his tired face with a wrinkled hand.
‘Calgus came down the North Road, burned out everything down to Noisy Valley, let his men loose on White Strength and burned that down too, then retreated back up the road and vanished into the landscape, Mars damn him for eternity. I’ve got patrols out looking for the warband, but for the time being they’re off the bloody map. Now that the barbarians have left the scene of the crime, Sixth Legion has come forward from the blocking position they were holding to the south, marched through here at lunchtime and thundered off over the horizon to some secret camp or other they scouted out a while ago. Where the other legions have got to, Mars only knows. But we, young man, have subjects closer to home to discuss, do we not?’
Marcus nodded, giving in to the inescapable.
‘Firstly, as to your great secret, don’t trouble yourself with the revelation, I’ve already questioned Equitius and got the truth out of him.’
Marcus’s eyes opened wide.
‘You…’
The officer waved a hand dismissively, shaking his head in amusement.
‘Y’clearly don’t appreciate my position here, young man. I command the Petriana cavalry wing and I’m the senior prefect of all the Wall garrisons. I’m already a senator as a result of an imperial promotion after a dirty little skirmish a few years ago, and I have some very powerful friends in Rome. When I told your commanding officer to spill the beans he did what he was told, related the whole story and offered to resign his command and fall on his sword. Because he’s a realist. The man that lives in Yew Grove may nominally command the Wall garrison, executing the governor’s orders, but as long as I’m in place these units answer to me, right up to the point where Sixth Legion comes forward into the line and he’s in a position to take effective control.’
Marcus lay back, strangely relieved at not having to hide from the senior officer any longer.
‘Did you take Equitius’s command?’
Licinius snorted his laughter.
‘Of course I didn’t, y’fool! I can’t afford to go dumping effective officers just because they happen to have an eye for a good officer!’
‘But…’
The prefect leaned in close, half whispering into Marcus’s ear, his patrician affectations suddenly replaced with a harder tone.
‘But nothing, man. I told you I’ve got friends in Rome, men of influence and stature. They write to me regularly about the city and what’s happening around them, and their letters have steadily become more pessimistic. Some of them even write anonymously, using recollection of our shared experiences as their identification, for fear of their words being read by the wrong person. Our new emperor is in the sway of dangerous men, and is steadily undermining the rules that have underpinned our society for almost a century. Your father and his brother were his victims, murdered for their land and to silence a potential dissenting voice in the Senate. As a loyal citizen of Rome I should, of course, arrest you, and Equitius and his First Spear, and hand you over to Sixth Legion for trial and execution.’
He stopped speaking, and looked away from Marcus, out of the room’s window.
‘As an officer of Rome, with a prior duty to the defence of this province, it is my judgement that I will do no such thing.’
‘But you risk losing everything.’
‘Centurion, there are two or three warbands out there that amount to about thirty thousand fighting men, all of them fired by the desire to liberate their lands from Roman influence and get their cocks up some nice soft flesh in the process. Against that mass of angry warriors we total ten thousand regular troops and two thousand cavalry, plus another eighteen thousand legionaries – if the legions make an appearance in time to join in the fun. If we get it wrong, I could be dead inside the week, in which case my failure to report your presence here will be inconsequential. My duty is first and foremost to the troops under my command, and to the people that depend on
