The 10th Century’s centurion slapped his shoulder again, laughing easily in the quiet gloom. ‘You cunning dog, you always were the smart one…’ He turned to Rufius, his hands spread in supplication. ‘… and as he says, Grandfather, you do have a full-strength century of big strong lads. Surely you can spare me a few? Half a dozen would be a start, ten would be perfect. Will you help your brother?’
Rufius raised his hands defensively, backing off from the big man in apparent dismay. ‘Oh no, it just isn’t possible, Titus. You know I’d like to help you, but these new boys of mine are all well-educated and house-trained young men, drilled in the fine arts of infantry combat and military etiquette. I couldn’t in good faith condemn any of them to descend to the degraded standards of behaviour your men have sunk to. I…’
‘Attention!’
The gathered officers turned to face the door and snapped to attention. First Spear Frontinius had entered the room with the prefect following him.
‘Brother officers, stand at ease. Make yourselves comfortable. I know that you’re not used to seeing the prefect at morning reports, but we received a courier just before nightfall yesterday with the message we’ve all been waiting for. The new governor has taken command at Noisy Valley and his first order is for several cohorts, including ourselves, to march in and join up with the legions. As of now the war with the northern tribes is back on again, and there’s still enough campaigning time left in the year for us to finish Calgus and his rabble off if they’re unwise enough to offer us a straight fight.’
He paused for a moment, looking around his brother officers.
‘We’re ordered to report for attached duty with Sixth Victorious by dusk tomorrow night, which gives us one day for preparation and then a day’s march to join the legion. You’ve got today to get your men and their gear ready for a good long stint in the field, so I suggest you make the most of that time and make sure we won’t have anyone’s boots falling to pieces or spearheads coming loose at the wrong moment. You, Centurion Corvus, had better start educating your Hamians as to just what it feels like when the blue-noses come knocking, and I think you’d better have some help with that, given the amount of time we’ve got. Prefect?’
The man waiting patiently behind him stepped out of the shadows.
‘Gentlemen, for those of you that have been away putting down the Carvetii, my name is Gaius Rutilius Scaurus. My orders from the governor were quite straightforward, to get ready for a month’s campaigning and bring my cohort across to join with the Sixth Legion by the end of tomorrow. Given the sparse nature of those orders there isn’t all that much to be said on that particular subject, but I can give you an insight into this new governor. I believe that the last man to hold the post tended to take a back seat to the legion commanders when it came to setting the pace of operations. That will not be the case under Ulpius Marcellus, I can assure you. We’ll soon be up in Calgus’s face and looking to provoke him to come out of whatever hidey-hole he’s hidden himself in and fight. I know this cohort has a proud reputation, and I know that reputation only got stronger given the fight you won against the odds earlier this summer. I think you can confidently expect the governor to be keen to make full use of your abilities, so make sure your men are ready for action, because make no mistake, gentlemen, it’s coming your way. First Spear…?’
Frontinius stepped forward.
‘Thank you, Prefect. We parade at dawn as usual, full kit and marching order, please, both practice swords and iron to be worn. Today, my brothers, is going to be a long day for us all. Dismissed, gentlemen, with the exception of the following officers: Corvus, Julius, Rufius and Dubnus. I need a discussion with the four of you on the subject of getting our newest recruits ready to fight before this new governor puts us back into the war.’
The 2nd Tungrian cohort paraded soon after first light. Once the cohort had marched on to The Rock’s parade ground, found their places under the grey sky and settled down, Prefect Furius walked out in front of them with a grim face. He nodded to Neuto, and the First Spear rapped out a crisp order.
‘Bring out the prisoner!’
Soldier Secundus was marched on to the parade ground and tied to the whipping posts, his arms stretched tightly out to either side to keep him upright. Ropes strung between the posts at chest and groin level waited to catch his body when, as was usual with heavy floggings, he passed out with the pain and loss of blood. The men guarding him stripped away the loincloth that had been his only garment and stepped away from the whipping posts. Prefect Furius squinted across the parade ground at the posts, a note of uncertainty in his voice.
‘An interesting arrangement, First Spear. Not exactly standard.’
Neuto nodded, shrugging.
‘It’s my usual method in these circumstances, Prefect. Once the scourging’s well under way he’ll faint away from loss of blood and pain, and I like to keep them on their feet. Keeps the blood in the body longer, and lets the troops see the mess we’re making of the man. Sets an example, if you like.’
He watched the prefect carefully as the man raised an appreciative eyebrow.
‘Good thinking, First Spear Neuto. Sets an example indeed.’
Neuto muttered a silent prayer of thanks to his gods, nodding his respect to the prefect with his face an inscrutable mask.
‘Thank you, Prefect. Now, if you’ll permit me…?’
He walked out in front of the cohort, shouting for the waiting men to come to attention.
‘Second Cohort!’ The silence while the soldiers waited for him to speak again was almost tangible. ‘Second Cohort, you will this morning witness the execution of the man that murdered Prefect Bassus. Let this be an example to you of how we deal with criminals within our ranks.’
He walked grimly across to the helpless prisoner, readying himself to play his part as the first officer to wield the scourge, shaking its leather ropes loose with an impatient gesture before pulling his arm back in readiness for the first blow.
‘Hold!’
Furius stepped forward, his hand outstretched.
‘I think I’ll take the first five, First Spear. You did the hard work yesterday in getting the fool to confess…’
He hefted the scourge for a moment, letting all gathered see him examine the braided ropes, jagged pieces of bone knotted into the leather at each finger-length from the handle, then flicked the whip high over his shoulder before delivering a fearsome blow across Secundus’s back from right shoulder to left kidney. He struck again, aiming at the left shoulder to paint a rough cross of deeply scored wounds on the condemned soldier’s back. Blood began to seep slowly down the valley of the man’s spine. The third blow was delivered horizontally across the small of the prisoner’s back, the prefect swinging his whole body into the whip’s vicious strike. The fourth blow scourged his backside, clawing deep into the soft flesh of his buttocks, while the fifth was delivered with shocking power straight down the back of his head, ripping away lumps of hair and scalp. The last blow tore a moan of pain from the previously silent soldier.
Furius turned back to his suddenly wide-eyed troops, walking the few paces to the third century and handing the whip to Tertius. A soldier from a century to his left suddenly bent double and noisily puked his breakfast up on to the parade ground, momentarily unable to comply with his centurion’s barked command to get back in the ranks.
‘Five lashes per centurion, starting with the prisoner’s own officer, and all to be delivered with the same force I’ve just demonstrated. Two to the back, one to the kidneys, one to the arse and one to the head. Any man going easy on this piece of shit at any time will be ordered to repeat the blow and be subjected to administrative punishment and loss of pay. I know that’s five more than I ordered, but let’s call it five more for luck, eh? Begin!’