walked his horse forward casually and turned it so that it stood across the track, neck raised, ears pricked, breath pluming from its nostrils. Cato’s heart was beating so fast he felt sure that it must be heard by everyone around him. He stared hard at the man confronting them. Like the others, his hair was dark and tied back by a broad headband. His brow was prominent and his eyes dark and deep set above a thick beard that masked his jaw. Even though he wore a cloak, Cato could see that he was massively built and his bare arms were like hams, covered with dark bristles. The man stared at them impassively while his men waited on his command, spears poised to strike down the three Romans that had dared to ride into the heart of these wild mountains.
There was a pause that made every moment linger on Cato’s heightened senses; he took in every visual detail, every sound, and smell in what might be the last few breaths of his life. Then the figure settled back in his saddle and he rested his left hand on his hip.
‘Who are you?’ he demanded in Latin.
‘Romans,’ Macro replied.
‘You don’t say.’ There was a hint of amusement in his tone. ‘Well, that’s a shame. I had hoped to make an example of some more of those Silurian scum. . What are you doing here?’
Cato eased himself up in his saddle and sheathed his sword. ‘I’m Prefect Quintus Licinius Cato. This is Centurion Lucius Cornelius Macro. I’ve been sent to take command of the fort at Bruccium. I assume you’re Thracians from the garrison.’
The man nodded.
‘And who are you?’ Macro asked as he lowered his sword but kept it tightly gripped at his side.
The man clicked his tongue and walked his horse towards the Romans. He stopped again, directly in front of them, and raised his head. His dark eyes bored into Cato.
‘I am Centurion Quertus.’
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The mist had lifted by the time the horsemen emerged from the wood and followed the track across open land. The sky was still overcast and the sun was no more than a faint loom amid the grey shroud that hung over the landscape. A light drizzle added to the discomfort of Cato and his companions as they rode with the Thracian auxiliaries. Once he had examined Cato’s authority to assume command, Centurion Quertus gave orders for the mules and the prisoner to be rounded up. Then he re-formed his men and led the column in the direction of the fort. As they reached open ground, he sent two riders to scout ahead while he dropped back and fell in alongside Cato and Macro.
‘Mind telling me what all that was about?’ said Macro. ‘Back there when you and your men were hunting us down.’
Quertus pursed his lips so that they disappeared behind the bristles of his beard before he replied. ‘This is Silurian territory. Or it was until we established the fort here. It’s my job to take the war to the enemy. You were spotted by one of my patrols, even before you entered the pass. They couldn’t get close enough in the mist to identify you as Romans. In any case, it’s been a while since we’ve seen any Romans from outside the garrison.’
‘So I understand,’ said Cato. ‘You’ve also failed to send any reports to Glevum for quite a while. I imagine that some of those at headquarters were on the verge of giving you and your men up for lost.’
‘Not enough to stop you being sent out here, apparently.’
Cato and Macro exchanged a quick glance.
‘Why haven’t you been in contact with headquarters for so long?’ Cato asked.
‘We’re surrounded by the enemy. If I send a man back with a report, then the chances are the Silurians would take him. In which case I lose a man, and the report fails to get through in any case. So there’s no point. If I have anything significant to tell the legate I’ll make sure he gets a report. Otherwise I’ll carry on with my orders to harrass the enemy. Which is why I led one of my squadrons out to set an ambush for you, if you turned out to be the enemy. By the way, you fell into the trap nicely. Though I was under the impression there were more than three of you, not counting the prisoner back there.’
‘Our escort turned back at the pass leading into the valley,’ Cato explained. ‘Where we found three Silurians that had been left out to die. That was your work, I take it.’
‘I like to let the enemy know what they can expect if they dare to cross my path. There are others at every route into the valley. And we leave some behind every time we raid a village or clash with one of their war parties.’
‘Why?’
Quertus turned to give him a withering look. ‘It’s obvious. It scares the enemy.’
Macro gave a dry laugh. ‘Scares our lads as well.’
‘Then they should stay out of my way.’ Quertus scowled. ‘I don’t need anyone interfering with my work.’
‘Your work? You mean your orders. You’re supposed to be harrassing the enemy, not waging a private war.’
Quertus shrugged and looked ahead. ‘My valley, my rules. As long as I do what the legate wants.’
‘Yes, well, I’m in command now,’ Cato responded warily. ‘Things may change at Bruccium.’
‘We shall see.’
‘And while we’re on the issue, since I am the new prefect, you will call me sir, Centurion Quertus.’
The other man looked at him, scarcely bothering to conceal his contempt as he replied, ‘As you wish, sir.’
Cato felt an icy fist close round his heart. A dark cloud of menace seemed to surround the Thracian officer. Cato was cautious, and not a little afraid. He had no desire to provide this man with an opportunity to get rid of any new rival for control of his men. He decided it would be wise to make Quertus aware of the wider picture.
‘I expect you have taken quite a few casualties since the fort was constructed.’
‘Some. Mostly the weaker men.’
‘Then you’ll be glad to know that a column of replacements will be marching from Glevum to join us in a matter of days.’
Quertus looked at him sharply. ‘More Romans?’
Cato nodded. ‘Legionaries for the most part. Though those that can ride well can replace some of the men you lost, should I decide to do so.’
It was a subtle reminder that the Thracian officer would go back to his unit and surrender the overall command of the garrison to Cato.
‘When we reach the fort I shall expect a full report from you on the period of your command, together with an inventory of supplies and up-to-date strength returns,’ Cato continued. ‘Then I shall want both cohorts paraded for inspection at dawn tomorrow.’
Quertus did not reply and Cato felt himself flush with anger. He cleared his throat and spoke clearly. ‘Did you hear my orders, Centurion?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Then be so good as to acknowledge them in future.’
‘Yes, sir,’ Quertus replied flatly. ‘If that’s all, I need to check on my scouts.’
‘I thought you said this valley was your turf,’ Macro commented. ‘That was the point of the men you impaled for the enemy to see. To warn them off.’
‘It does that. And it unnerves them, and it serves to remind my men of the kind of war we are fighting. That is the fate of any men who allow themselves to be taken prisoner. A lesson I think even you two must learn. The sooner the better.’ He glowered at Macro. ‘Even so, there are some enemy warriors made of sterner stuff who we have to look out for.’
He spurred his mount forward, breaking into a canter as he rode ahead of the column towards the scouts, some distance ahead. Cato and Macro watched him recede, his cloak flapping around his body like a swirl of
