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Authors: Simon Scarrow

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The officers’ heads turned towards Narcissus, who had started peeling another pear as he spoke and did not return their gaze.

‘After all, the Emperor had his triumph through the streets of the capital at the end of last year. You fellows are just doing the mopping-up. I’d remember that if I were you. To imply that the Emperor had somehow fallen short in his conquest of the Britons might smack of treason to some people.’ Narcissus lowered his dagger, popped a dripping slice of fruit into his mouth and smiled. ‘A word of advice on how to phrase your official reports, that’s all. No offence intended. Please continue, my dear General.’

Plautius nodded curtly, and turned his attention back to the map. ‘Vespasian, you will remain in the south. Your first task is to complete the pacification of the south-west. I want that done as swiftly as possible. By the end of this campaign season, if you can. Find and eliminate what is left of Caratacus’ army. If you come upon Caratacus, try and take him alive. His life is to be spared.’

‘Spared, sir? Surely we want him out of the way permanently.’

‘He will be out of the way. The Imperial Secretary wants him shipped back to Rome in chains, as a souvenir for Emperor Claudius, to remind him of his brilliant campaign to conquer and subdue the Britons.’

‘Don’t overegg it, General,’ Narcissus said quietly.

Plautius pretended to ignore the remark as he continued to brief Vespasian.’According to our intelligence the marsh covers a vast area, all the way to the river Sabrina. It’s crossed by a multitude of tracks. Parts of it are slightly elevated and support a few small settlements. There are stretches of open water and some narrow creeks, but they’re too small to navigate with anything larger than a raft. It is rumoured that Caratacus has established a fortified camp somewhere in the flats, but so far we’ve not been able to get any of the prisoners to tell us the location. I appreciate it’s difficult ground to work with, Vespasian, but I must have the enemy survivors found and destroyed. If there is a camp, I want it razed. If you can take Caratacus alive, do it.’ Plautius paused, and smiled. ‘But if not, then we’ll just have to present the Emperor with some other souvenir of his trip to Britain.’

‘That would be wise,’ added Narcissus.

Vespasian was looking at the map. The area occupied by the flats was huge. The map simply marked its boundaries, with one or two known features, culled from natives or traders. The only area that had any amount of detail was a valley that ran alongside the marshland, following the course of the river that fed into the marshes and fens. A few tracks had been drawn in tentatively, and as Vespasian ran his finger along one of the lines, it smudged, and he realised it was only chalked on to the map. The general saw the gesture and frowned irritably at the smudge mark.

‘As soon as we’ve updated the map, I’ll ensure that you have a copy. There aren’t many of the enemy left, Legate. Shouldn’t be too difficult to find them and finish them off. Once you’ve crushed Caratacus and his surviving forces, that should be the end of resistance to us in the south.’

The general looked up brightly.’That’s that, gentlemen. Any questions? . . . No? Good. Your written orders will be with you shortly and you’re to begin preparations to break camp the day after tomorrow.’

Sabinus looked uncomfortable. ‘Only one day to prepare, sir?’

‘That’s what I said. We’ve already lost enough time this year. We need to move fast to catch up. Now, unless there’s anything else, you may return to your legions and get your staffs to work.’

As the officers filed out, Vespasian waited for a moment and then approached his commander. ‘Sir, I’ve questioned the officers of my Third Cohort and taken their statements, which I’ve brought with me.’ He indicated the bag over by the side of the tent.

‘Good. I’ll send for my chief clerk. He can make preparations for the inquiry. If we move quickly we can settle the matter in the next few days.’

‘No.’ Narcissus interrupted him. ‘Now.’

General Plautius turned towards the freedman, and Vespasian saw his jaw stiffen with suppressed anger. ‘I beg your pardon, Narcissus. Did you have anything to contribute to the disciplinary procedures of my legions?’

‘You mean the Emperor’s legions, of course.’

‘Of course.’

Narcissus smiled. ‘I’m afraid I must rush you on this matter. You know I’m leaving at first light to report back to Rome.’

‘Yes . . . a great shame.’

‘Quite. Anyway, I will, naturally, have to mention yesterday’s missed opportunity to crush Caratacus completely.’

‘Oh, naturally.’

‘The Emperor and the senate will want to know that those responsible for the mistake have paid a price commensurate with the scale of their failure. So I’m afraid we can’t wait for a proper inquiry. We need to act now.’

‘Now?’ The general frowned.

‘Tonight,’ Narcissus replied firmly. ‘The inquiry must be held tonight, and those found responsible must be sentenced before I leave in the morning.’

‘That’s absurd!’ Plautius blustered. ‘It’s impossible.’

‘No it’s not. And I’ll tell you what is possible. It’s possible that Rome will take a dim view of your failure to eliminate Caratacus and his army. Unless I can persuade them that you have won a decisive victory. The escape of Caratacus can be presented as a minor detail, provided that those responsible for letting him slip away are identified and punished swiftly and decisively. Vespasian’s Third Cohort should fit the bill nicely.’

‘We haven’t had the inquiry yet,’ the General pointed out. ‘They might not be found at fault.’

‘You’d better make sure that they are. In the end, it’s you or them, my dear General.’ Narcissus paused to let the threat sink in, then he spoke again, in his quiet, polite, unflustered manner. ‘So, might I suggest that you give the necessary orders?’

General Plautius glared at the man, visions of bloody torture and revenge flooding into his mind in rapid succession. The freedman’s impudence was breathtaking, but the gulf in social status between a senator and a freedman, who had been a slave of Claudius only a few years ago, was erased by the fact that Narcissus was the Emperor’s most trusted and closest advisor. The Emperor ruled Rome, but the Emperor, Plautius had heard it said, was ruled by his freedman. Only now, the freedman had a rival in Messalina, Claudius’s scheming young wife, and that made Narcissus an even more desperate and dangerous man to cross.

‘I’ll give the orders.’

‘Thank you, General.’ Narcissus resumed his concentration on the skinless pear on the silver plate on his lap, slicing it as finely as possible with the glinting blade of his dagger. ‘Send me word when all is ready. I’ll wait here.’

Plautius could not stomach remaining in the same tent as the freedman and, grasping the pannier bags, he clapped a hand on to Vespasian’s shoulder and led him out of the tent. Outside, in the clerks’ tent, and out of the Imperial Secretary’s hearing, Plautius spoke softly to his subordinate.

‘You’d better get back to your legion. I want your Third Cohort stood to, unarmed, in tunics only and under guard.’

‘Why, sir? Why shame them so?’

‘Because they need shaming. They need to know that every man in the cohort is held to account, whatever their rank. It’ll serve as a warning to the other cohorts.’

‘But, sir-’ Vespasian’s exhausted mind was reeling with the way that the inquiry was being rushed through at this mad speed.’Think of the men’s morale. This will bring shame to the whole legion and all the spirit we’ve built up on the campaign will be pissed away.’

Plautius stopped walking, and turned towards him with raised eyebrows. ‘Pissed away? That’s an awfully common expression. I think you’ve been spending rather too long in the company of the lower orders . . .Perhaps you should return to Rome before you forget who you are.’

‘I know who I am,’ Vespasian replied coolly. ‘And I know what’s right and what’s wrong. I’m telling you, this inquiry is a mistake. Nothing good can come of it . . . sir.’

Plautius stared back at him. ‘I think you forget yourself, Legate. I’ve given you an order. Get back to your legion and have everything ready for the hearing. As soon as I’ve discussed these statements with my clerks I’ll ride over and join you and we’ll start immediately. If the preparations are not complete by then, I may have to widen the scope of the inquiry beyond the officers of your Third Cohort. Do I make myself clear?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Then go.’

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Senior Tribune Plinius filled his lungs and shouted the order. ‘Centurions … to the front!’

Outside the headquarters tents of the Second Legion the men of Maximius’ cohort stood in well-ordered ranks. They were made visible in the night by the wavering glare of scores of torches held aloft by the legionaries of the First Cohort assigned to guard them. Unlike their comrades Maximius’ men were not armed, they were not even permitted to wear their armour, only plain tunics. They were under judgement, and as such might soon be cast out of the camp as a punishment for their failure to hold the ford the day before. Some of the men looked terrified. As well they might, thought Cato as he marched over towards the senior tribune. They would be without shelter from the elements and without weapons to defend themselves against any enemy patrols that might want to take a few easy heads from the Roman invaders. For however long the punishment lasted.

Cato fell into line with the other centurions behind the tribune, and the escort formed up on either side.

‘Forward!’ called the tribune, and the party marched towards the entrance to the largest tent. The flaps were tied back and an orange-hued light spilled out from the oil-lamp stands inside. Through the flaps Cato could see that the clerks’ desks had been rearranged so that a long table was set against the rear of the tent, leaving an open space in front of it. A smaller arrangement of tables ran down one side and a number of clerks were already seated there, preparing their writing materials for keeping a record of the inquiry.

Tribune Plinius marched the centurions and their escort inside the tent and indicated that they were to stand in a line in front of the empty table. The escort formed up behind them, hands resting on the pommels of their swords. The clerks sat beside their tablets, styluses to hand, ready to begin. Then all was still and silent as they waited in the stuffy heat for the presiding officers to appear. Cato, who had never witnessed such an event before, was terrified but determined not to let it show as he stood stiff as his vine cane and stared directly ahead. As they waited, he let his glance slip to the side and saw that Felix’s fingers were clenching and unclenching into a fist, over and over again. He suddenly turned his head slightly and caught Cato’s eyes. Cato’s gaze flickered down momentarily and he gave a slight nod. Felix followed the direction indicated and looked surprised when he saw his hand moving, almost as if it belonged to another. He abruptly stopped the nervous tic and winked his gratitude to Cato before facing forward again. For his part, Cato was relieved to find someone who felt as nervous as he did.

A side flap was thrust open and the camp prefect entered the tent. He stepped smartly to one side and bellowed, ‘Senior officers present! All rise!’

The clerks immediately stood up and snapped to attention along with the other men in the room as the legate and the general entered the tent and walked briskly to their seats. There was a brief pause before Narcissus followed them inside and sat beside the general. As soon as he had taken his seat the camp prefect called out, ‘At ease!’

General Plautius began proceedings at once. ‘Before the inquiry commences I want it entered in the record that the exigencies of the situation require the circumventing of normal procedure in order that the inquiry is completed as swiftly as possible. To that end, I require that sentencing take place directly upon completion of the inquiry process, and that execution of any sentence be carried out as soon as possible.’

The officers of the Third Cohort glanced at each other anxiously at this curtailment of their rights. Any hearing in a settled garrison fortress would be far more protracted, but here in the field it was necessary for justice to take a more direct route. However, this flouting of even the most basic procedures stunned the centurions.

Before anyone could protest the general continued, ‘This inquiry has been called to determine whether the performance of the officers and men of the Third Cohort, Second Legion conforms to the standards required of those who serve in the name of Emperor Claudius and the senate and people of Rome. The charges laid before the inquiry are that on the ides of August last, the commander of the cohort, Gaius Norbanus Maximius, failed to obey orders and by such dereliction of duty permitted the escape of some five thousand enemy soldiers. Furthermore, it is charged by Centurion Maximius that Centurion Lucius Cornelius Macro failed to carry the battle to the enemy with sufficient determination in defending the island in the middle of the ford. It is also charged by Centurion Maximius that the Third Cohort failed to engage the enemy with sufficient vigour and determination in its subsequent defence of the near bank of the ford. However, it is my view, after carefully considering the evidence submitted to me, that the Third Cohort and all its officers are equally culpable in regard to all the charges specified. Before judgement is passed, does any officer wish the opportunity to answer the charges?’

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