Frontinius grimaced in turn.
‘But he got his man, right? There’s simply no way a full cohort is going to stand for losing that much money to protect one man. I’d say his tactics were spot on.’
Neuto shrugged, unwilling to cede the point his friend was making.
‘Yes, he got his man, but…’
‘Then you can’t really argue too hard against his methods, can you? After all, whoever it was did kill a prefect, let’s not forget that. Anybody I know?’
Neuto shook his head dismissively.
‘No. Just some idiot soldier, a typical wooden-skulled headcase who acted on impulse and stuck his iron through Prefect Bassus’s back simply because he didn’t like the man. To make it worse, he was the older brother of one of my centurions. Something I was supposed not to know, and of course something I actually knew from about an hour after the younger brother joined up. Our new prefect had him crucified…’
Frontinius blew on his broth and took a mouthful.
‘We heard. The cavalry lads were full of it when they pulled in last night. A little severe, for all that he killed an officer. I hear the man died on the whipping post?’
Neuto nodded, a small smile touching his lips.
‘Yes. Prefect Furius made the mistake of ordering him to receive fifty lashes.’
‘Fifty?’
‘Exactly. He’d probably have died even if my officers hadn’t contrived to open the poor bastard’s throat with the scourge, after I’d had a few quiet words in the right ears, but I wasn’t taking any chances. Then the idiot had him nailed up anyway.’
Frontinius grimaced again.
‘I still couldn’t argue that he’s unfit for command. So what if he’s a little free with the hammer and nails, the man had it coming to him, right?’
Neuto sat back, looking at his friend.
‘I can live with the carpentry fixation, just about, but he’s just not very good. We were sent out to look for the blue-noses, a roving commission for a new prefect and the perfect chance for him to get used to his new command, right? I advised him to use the cavalry to screen our movements and seek out any signs of the warband…’
‘And?’
Neuto’s face wrinkled with disgust.
‘He didn’t allow them out of sight for the entire time we were out there. The man was in perpetual fear of bumping into a fight, and he said he wanted all his spears close to hand in case of a pitched battle. I tried to get across to him that four hundred horsemen weren’t going to put any sizeable hole in a decent warband, and we’d be better finding them without being found ourselves, and then steering well clear, but he wasn’t having any of it. No, we just blundered round the hills without a bloody clue, and for all I know the only thing that stopped the blue- nosed bastards from hacking us to bits was either simple dumb luck in that we missed them or else they were too busy laughing at us. And he’s hardly walked a mile since he arrived, rides a horse alongside the cohort on the march like he’s a legion tribune!’
He drained the beaker and slapped it down on the table with a calculating glance at Frontinius.
‘I’ll tell you what else, he’s absolutely fixated with some fugitive that’s evaded the imperial strangler. He’s always on about it, how he’ll pay a big reward to the man that finds him, how much prestige he’ll get if he’s the man to bring the fellow to justice. I ask you, how likely is it that some runaway aristo is going to be hiding up here with us, in the middle of twenty thousand Roman troops, eh?’ He looked across the table at Frontinius, his eyes suddenly narrowed. ‘Not even you could be that stupid, and you did some monumentally daft things when we were young recruits, as I recall… eh, Sextus?’
Frontinius’s face froze into immobility.
‘How long have you known?’
Neuto shook his head disbelievingly.
‘Jupiter’s tits, I prayed I was wrong! That bright young lad with the two swords?’
‘The same. He’s the one that found the supplies waiting for Calgus’s western attack and burned them out back in the spring. Remember that? If not for him we’d have had ten thousand of the bastards at our backs as well as the warband to our front. The boy’s good, Neuto, and I can’t just abandon him now that he’s made a place with the cohort. How did you work it out?’
His friend shook his head, taking another sip of his broth.
‘I didn’t. My least favourite centurion seems to have worked it out after meeting your man at Arab Town. These things have a habit of finding their way back to a man who keeps his ear to the ground, as well you know. Does your prefect…? No, on second thoughts I’m better not knowing. Cocidius’s sword and fucking spear, Sextus, how long do you think you can keep this quiet, now that we’re tucked up close with half the bloody army? The next thing you’ll know is Furius will be calling for the carpenters again, except this time it’ll be you tied up ready for the scourge.’
Frontinius frowned.
‘I’ve got an idea to get him out of the fort tonight, and tomorrow.’
‘That’s fine for today and tomorrow, but we’re going to be in the field for weeks. Mark my words, Furius is offering a bag of gold to the man that unearths him; and rumour has it that one of my centurions is on the scent. Knowing the man in question, he’ll be all over your cohort trying to get some proof. And if that bastard Furius gets a sniff of your boy he’ll be dog meat inside a day. As will you.’
He sat back, shaking his head at his old friend. Frontinius nodded grimly.
‘And that’s my problem, and not one for you to get dragged into. Although I’d appreciate any warning you can give me, I guess it’s for the best that we never had this conversation.’
Neuto nodded grimly.
‘Agreed. Now, let’s talk about the reinforcement century Prefect Furius seems to have procured out of the Arab Town docks for me.’
‘No fucking way! Those men are mine and I’m keeping them.’
If the mood in Furius’s tent had darkened with the departure of the first spears, it had turned distinctly ugly once Scaurus had raised the subject of the stolen century. He held a level gaze on Furius, watching his eyes intently.
‘You knew very well that those troops were earmarked for my cohort, didn’t you, Gracilus Furius? We’re still significantly under strength, and yet you bribed them out from under our noses without a second thought. And now you tell me that you’re going to hold on to them no matter what…’
Furius leaned back in his chair, a faint sneer playing across his face.
‘That’s right, and there’s not much you can do to get them back. I’ve got a requisition document signed off by the replacements officer, all nicely legal, and the century in question is already distributed into my cohort. So, unless you’ve got some shiny new sponsor that I don’t know about, you haven’t even got the clout to take this up the ladder. You do know how I got this command, even after Thunderbolt Gorge and the best part of ten years of enjoying the pleasures of home, don’t you? It was simple. I just asked my father to get me back into uniform. If you thought he was well connected ten years ago, well, you should see him now. He may be a wrinkled old bastard, but he’s got more money than he knows what to do with. If he’d wanted to become a senator he only had to ask, he’s got ten times the money required for the favour, and he knows where to spend it. That bread-nibbling beanpole Ulpius Marcellus is a friend of the family, and I can tell you what his reaction will be if you take the problem to him – he’ll just laugh in your face. Senior officers like their commanders to show some initiative, or hadn’t you heard? They find this sort of squabble amusing to watch but irritating to deal with, so you’ve got as much chance of getting that century back as you have of being promoted to legatus, you pipsqueak. Apart from that, you also got two centuries in the place of one. I’d say everyone should be happy.’
He smiled tightly, but the smile turned to a thin-lipped glare as Scaurus stared at him for a moment longer before speaking again, his direct gaze making the other man uneasy. This wasn’t the sort of behaviour Furius remembered from their last spell as colleagues.
‘If you’re determined to do this, then so be it. Just don’t be surprised if you end up regretting it. I believe you’ve regretted one or two things you’ve done recently, if the words I’ve heard are true.’
