saying?’
Laemas shifted uneasily in his seat, taking a deep drink from his cup.
‘I’m not a crybaby, you understand. My father made sure that I got enough training as a boy that I would give a fair account of myself were I ever to see any fighting, and yet these legion men have a way of reducing me to helpless frustration every time I try to impose my authority on them.’ Scaurus watched him over the rim of his cup, taking stock of his officer’s state of mind as he spoke. ‘The battle to take the barbarian camp, there’s a good example. I had orders to break in from the north with this very cohort, a critical role, Legatus Equitius called it, and I was very clear with my officers that we were going to play our part to the full. And yet when we got within spitting distance of the objective my first spear started prevaricating, finding reasons why we weren’t ready to attack, and delaying our deployment until Licinius rode up and all but accused me of being afraid to advance into the enemy camp.’
Scaurus winced.
‘Gaius Manilius Licinius does have a very special way of communicating his disappointment.’
Laemas nodded, warming to his subject.
‘Quite so, but to make it worse, First Spear Canutius promptly started making it pretty clear to Manilius Licinius that his desire to get into action was being frustrated by my delaying tactics. Nothing I could challenge without looking even more of a fool, of course, but Licinius clearly went away with the impression that I’m not fit to command. And so I find myself here…’
‘… under the command of a social inferior and probably doomed to this ignominy for the rest of your short career?’
Laenas winced at the words, for all that Scaurus’s voice had been perfectly level.
‘Yes, I’m sorry for my poor showing at our first meeting, I really wasn’t thinking very clearly. Too busy feeling sorry for myself, I suppose.’ He took another mouthful of the Falernian. ‘Forgive me, colleague, I’m making a mess of this career on so many fronts I’m not sure what to do for the best, but I never meant to impugn either your office or your honour as a Roman gentleman.’
Scaurus smiled back at him.
‘Cheer up, Tribune. Your first spear clearly has a problem that we can easily remedy, and you’ll have plenty of chances to prove that there’s fire in your belly in the next few days. As for first spears Frontinius and Neuto, their humour is of a different kind to that you might be used to suffering. You show them that you’re fit to command and they’ll soon enough come round to your side. Now, will you take another cup? That one seems to have emptied itself all too quickly. We’ll drink to long life and glorious victory, and then I must spare some time for Prince Martos. I promised that I would read him the letters he captured during the raid on Calgus’s tent, and it’s about time I made good on the offer.’
7
Later that evening, with the evening meal taken and the three cohorts’ soldiers busy about their usual campaign routine of cleaning their equipment and improving the edges of their blades, the detachment’s tribunes and senior centurions came together in Scaurus’s command tent to discuss the next day’s march. Decurion Felix was ordered to attend as the commander of the Petriana’s detached squadrons, and he brought both Double-Pay Silus and Marcus with him, despite the sour looks that the gesture earned him from First Spear Canutius. Scaurus opened the discussion, pointing to a sketchy map of the ground that lay before them to the north.
‘Well then, gentlemen, I’ve ridden this route to the Dinpaladyr before, so I’ve made a start at drawing a map of the ground we’ll have to cross to make our approach. Martos has given me all the help he can, but he’s more of a warrior than a geographer, so I’m afraid that our knowledge of the route is still a little sketchy.’
‘Tribune?’ Double-Pay Silus stepped forward with an em -barrassed salute, drawing inquisitive stares from the assembled officers.
‘Double-Pay?’
‘Begging your pardon, Tribune, but I’ve been riding these hills since I was a lad. The Petriana used to mount security patrols in the rear of the northern wall when it was still manned. We spent most of our effort in the west, keeping the Selgovae on their toes, but we rode this ground as well, when we could spare the time. Even after the pull-back to the old wall we still got around a fair bit, making sure the frontier tribes didn’t mistake our retreat for weakness. I could add some detail to that map, if you’d like me to.’
Scaurus nodded, handing him a stick of charcoal. The cavalryman stood over the parchment for a moment, his eyes moving across its sparse detail, then put the charcoal to the map, drawing fresh lines with swift, confident movements.
‘The River Tuidius runs here, and meets the sea here, and it can be forded by infantry here – but by cavalry here, and here.’
Scaurus’s eyes narrowed, taking in the additional detail and its implications.
‘So we can only cross the river in one place?’
Silus nodded.
‘Yes, Tribune, unless we’ve got the time to build a bridge?’
The tribune shook his head with a grim smile.
‘Neither the time nor the engineers, I’m afraid. So, if the men that Calgus sent to take control of the Votadini have their wits about them, they’ll have scouts watching the ford and our element of surprise will be lost before we even cross the river.’
Silus shook his head.
‘Not necessarily, Tribune. As I said, these two points can be crossed by horsemen. The animals will have to swim, but I’ve done it myself more than once.’
‘How likely would it be for a body of horsemen to remain unobserved once they were on the far side?’
Silus nodded sagely.
‘A good question, sir.’ He drew on the map again, sketching in a range of hills that ran to the north-east between the river’s course and the Votadini capital. ‘The enemy scouts will most likely be waiting here…’ He pointed to a spot on the range just to the north of the infantry ford, ‘… but we’d be crossing here, ten miles to the west and well out of their view. If we then went over the hills to the northern side we could make out approach without their ever suspecting we were there.’
‘And if the Selgovae think to put watchers on that ford?’
Silus pulled a wry face.
‘At the worst they could kill every man in that detachment before we ever got our feet out of the water, Tribune. A handful of decent archers could pick us off without any trouble at all.’
A silence hung in the air for a moment, broken at length by the thud of Scaurus’s finger hitting the map at the spot indicated by the double-pay.
‘Very well, Double-Pay, you’ve just earned yourself a temporary field promotion to decurion. And if you can take a party of men across the Tuidius and win us back the element of surprise, I’ll ask Tribune Licinius to let you keep the title.’
Silus stiffened his back and saluted crisply.
‘Thank you, sir. I’ll get a party of volunteers together and make the preparations tonight. We can be across the river and on the far bank drying out our kit by early morning the day after tomorrow, and the road north will be clear by the middle of the day. It’ll take you that long to get across the ford at the usual campaign pace.’
Scaurus nodded decisively.
‘Then I suggest you get to it, Decurion. And now, colleagues, let’s see what shape our three cohorts are in after the day’s events
…’
Outside the command tent both Felix and Marcus shook Silus’s hand in congratulation, while the new decurion shook his head in bemusement.
‘All that time wondering if I could ever get the promotion, and then an officer I hardly know drops it on me without any warning.’
