Listening to him, I realized something; hewas not worried about an insult to Cogidubnus; he was concernedthat his brother would take out his wrath on Ivomagus in the eventthat the king did not return before we departed. And, I conceded tomyself, it was not an unreasonable concern.
“Very well,” I finally answered. “Wewill not make the repairs until Cogidubnus returns. However, may weat least make all the necessary preparations that need to be madebefore we begin the actual work? Like,” I added, “dismantling theshed next to the dock?”
He thought a moment, then finally nodded.“That would be acceptable, Centurion. Now,” he stood up andextended a hand towards the door, “I will see that you are escortedback to your camp. I suspect that you need to get your rest.” I didnot care for such a summary dismissal, but I held my tongue; I wasjust about to the door, where the half-dozen men who had escortedme were standing when Ivomagus called my name.
When I turned around, he asked, “If thoseBrigantes had attacked you, I assume that you would have foughtback?”
“Of course,” I replied, a bitsurprised at what I thought would be obvious.
“And would you have beenvictorious?”
“Of course,” I repeated. Then, Iadded, “And we wouldn’t have left one of those bastardsalive.”
He did not say anything, but I saw onecorner of his mustache lift in what I had learned was his versionof a smile.
A meal was waiting for me, and I consumed itbefore sending runners to summon the officers of both groups andAcisculus to inform them of the restriction placed on us byIvomagus. And, as I expected, nobody was happy about it, yet whileI was content to allow some complaining, I finally held up a handto silence them.
“There’s nothing we can do about it,”I said shortly. My head was aching abominably, and I just wanted toget some sleep, so I went to the more important matters, askingAcisculus, “How much work will it take to finish the crane and takedown that shed?”
“No more than a half-day,” he answeredimmediately.
I turned to Motius and Cador, “Once we getthe ship out of the water, how long to make the repair to thehull?”
It was Cador who answered first, sayinghesitantly, “That is hard to say, Centurion. Until we can see thedamage from the outside and more closely, I cannot give you adefinite answer.”
I looked over to Motius, certain that hewould offer something, but to my surprise, he shook his head.
“Cador is correct, Centurion. Whatmight appear to be a simple case of replacing the planks that havebeen buckled is not, because we need to examine both sides. Theremay be several planks that are cracked on the outside that do notappear to be so when we examine them from inside theship.”
“Then what is the longest period oftime you think it will take, if several planks are cracked likethat?” I tried not to sound impatient, but I heard my tone and knewI was unsuccessful.
They exchanged a glance, and Cador gaveMotius a nod, so he was the one who answered, “If the damage inthat area is more extensive, then it will take at least threedays.”
This elicited groans from the rest of us,while I thought, I haven’t even asked about the mast yet, so I didthat next.
“You said that we can makepreparations. Is that correct, Centurion?” Motius asked inresponse.
“Yes,” I answered, but then I pausedto think for a moment, and I reluctantly had to add, “although whatIvomagus agreed to was making the preparations by finishing thecrane and disassembling the shed. I suppose that preparing the mastwould technically be working on the ship. At least,” I shook myhead in frustration, “that might be how Ivomagus sees it.” Nothingwas said by the others, but I made my decision. “Fuck that. Do whatyou need to do to prepare the mast tomorrow since you won’t be ableto do anything else. If Ivomagus has a problem with it,” I shruggedas if it was little matter, “he’ll tell me.”
I dismissed Cador, Motius, and Acisculus,and as soon as they were gone, I asked Saloninus and Mus, in hisrole as Optio, to give their report about what happened when theysailed downriver.
“At first,” Saloninus began, “I didn’tthink there were any of those bastards watching us, because when wereached that spot where that dock is, we hadn’t seen anyone, noteven someone fishing from the riverbank. But,” he chuckled, “thatdidn’t last long.”
He paused, and I realized that he wasgiving Mus the opportunity to pick up the story, although myold Tesseraurius was clearlyoblivious to that fact, so I cleared my throat and asked, “What didyou see, Mus?”
He started on his stool, clearly surprised,but he recovered quickly enough.
“We hadn’t even dropped anchor when abunch of mounted savages came galloping up to the dock,” he began.I was about to ask him about numbers when he beat me to it,although he glanced at Saloninus as he continued, “I counted a bitmore than fifty men on horseback. Is that what you got, Saloninus?”When Saloninus nodded, Mus went on, “But they didn’t do anythingmuch. They just sat there watching us. Oh,” he waved a hand, “theywere shouting things, but since none of us could understand them,that helped keep the boys calm enough.” I got an instant warningwhen his expression changed slightly. “But then the rest of themshowed up, and that’s when things got…interesting.”
“The rest of them?” I did notunderstand, and Mus looked to Saloninus.
“Their infantry, Pullus,” he answered.“And they were all armed, although I saw mostly spears. Would youagree, Mus?” He nodded, but Saloninus was not through. “But theyalso had a fair number of archers.”
“Fair number?” I frowned, not likingthis imprecision. “What’s a fair number?”
“At least a hundred,” Saloninusresponded, and I suppose I noticed that he began looking at theground.
“A hundred?” I repeated, and this waswhere I began getting a bad feeling. “That’s more than a fairnumber of archers for a town of the size
