Ostorius drew a breath and continued, ‘More to the point, how do you explain yourselves to me? Well, Prefect?’
Macro cleared his throat and cut in before Cato could reply. ‘It was my fault, sir. I was in charge of securing the prisoners and setting watch over them.’
‘You?’ Ostorius raised his eyebrows. ‘Is this true?’
Cato saw the danger his friend was making for himself and felt a stab of anxiety. It was not Macro’s fault any more than it was his own. It was almost certain to be the work of Pallas’s agent. As was the attack on Septimus. It seemed that the imperial agent had underestimated his quarry, who must have penetrated his disguise. Cato could not risk divulging too many details of this to Ostorius, but he could at least intercede to save Macro from the ire of their commanding officer.
‘Sir, Centurion Macro was acting on my orders. The responsibility is entirely mine, as is any punishment arising from the incident.’
‘That is for me to decide, once I have the full facts. You’d better tell me what you know, Prefect.’
Cato fought off his exhaustion as he went over the details.
‘I know that the escape occurred while Centurion Macro and I were in the officers’ mess tent. I also know that he must have had assistance in his escape.’
‘How so?’
‘Because the two guards were stabbed in the throat, sir. Since Caratacus was unarmed and manacled, it follows that my men were victims of an armed assailant. Or more than one. Also, the pins on his shackles were knocked out. It takes a hammer and a special punch to do that.’
‘So who helped him? One of the other natives? Have any more prisoners escaped?’
‘No, sir. I checked with the centurion in command of the prisoners held outside the camp. They’re all accounted for. Besides, even if one of them had escaped, he’d have to get across the ditch, over the rampart and past the sentries. Then he’d have to locate Caratacus, find a hammer and a weapon. It’s a bit unlikely.’
‘But not impossible.’
‘As good as, sir,’ Cato said firmly.
‘What about the other members of his family and his brothers?’
‘They’re all still chained in their stockade. The guards there said that they noticed nothing suspicious all night.’
Ostorius nodded thoughtfully. ‘Then why didn’t Caratacus attempt to free his kin as well? Why would he leave them behind?’
Cato tilted his head slightly. ‘My guess is that it was too difficult. There were four guards on the larger stockade and it was close to the tent lines of Centurion Macro’s cohort. If the alarm was raised they’d be surrounded by armed men in short order. And even if they had managed to kill the guards and remove their chains, there would be several of them in the party and it would make getting out of the camp much harder to achieve. Caratacus alone might stand a chance. If he had tried to take the others with him then he was almost certain to fail.’
Ostorius arched an eyebrow. ‘Are you saying that he sacrificed his family to save his own skin?’
‘I’m saying that it was the most reasonable thing to do, sir.’
‘Reasonable? Ruthless more like.’
Macro shrugged. ‘Perhaps it’s because he’s ruthless that he’s caused us as much trouble as he has, sir.’
The general glared at him. ‘Thank you for those words of wisdom, Centurion.’
Macro flushed as his commander turned his attention back to Cato. ‘So, assuming you are correct, what happened next?’
Cato thought swiftly. This was the part of the tale where he needed to exercise care if he was not to risk exposing Septimus. Regardless of the general’s loyalty to his Emperor, he would not take kindly to the revelation that there was a spy in his army. Nor would he appreciate the fact that one of his officers had known of this and kept it from him. Cato cleared his throat and continued in a neutral tone. ‘We know that Caratacus left the camp by the east gate disguised as a wine merchant called Hipparchus. I recognised the name as soon as the optio reported it to me.’
‘So how did you come to know of him so conveniently?’
‘The wine trader had sold me some wine two days ago. We tracked the merchant’s business down and found Hipparchus unconscious in the rear of his wagon. His cart was missing.’
‘I see. I wonder why Caratacus chose to attack that particular wine merchant?’
‘Coincidence, sir.’ Cato wondered the same thing. Hopefully he would discover the truth when he spoke to Septimus later on. He coughed and continued. ‘Hipparchus had the kind of vehicle needed to get Caratacus out of the camp. Given the amount of wine the army consumes, his story of needing to return to Viroconium to buy more stock would sound credible.’
Cato felt his heart beat more quickly as the general mulled over the explanation. Ostorius folded his hands together and tapped his index fingers against his chin. ‘Where is the wine merchant now?’
‘Recovering in the infirmary of the Fourteenth, sir. He was struck on the head and knocked out. Surgeon reckons he’ll recover his wits soon enough.’
‘Good. I want you to question him the moment he comes round.’
‘Yes, sir.’ Cato did his best to conceal his relief that he had been handed the task and quickly moved on. ‘Whoever helped free Caratacus was with him when he took the cart. Another wine merchant saw the two of them. In the dark he thought it was Hipparchus, with his slave helping to harness the mule to the cart. But we found the slave dead drunk. It’s possible that Hipparchus will be able to identify the man who aided Caratacus in his escape.’
‘How is that going to help us exactly?’
‘Because the man in question is still here in the camp, sir.’
Ostorius lowered his hands and stared at Cato. ‘How can you be sure of that?’
‘Caratacus was the only one in the cart that left the camp. The optio on the gate said he looked it over quickly before letting it pass on. He’s certain there was no one hidden inside.’
‘Then we have a traitor in the camp.’
Cato nodded.
‘Someone amongst the camp followers,’ Ostorius decided, his expression darkening. ‘When I find the bastard I’ll have him crucified. It has to be a native trader. A spy, planted by Caratacus. I’ll have them rounded up and questioned. Once the interrogators get to work on them someone will talk.’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Let’s hope we find that traitor. I’ve already given orders to send more cavalry patrols to scour the hills for Caratacus, but I don’t hold out much hope. He knows the ground better than we do and can count on the help of the local native settlements to hide him and feed him. Jupiter only knows what he’s planning to do next.’
‘He’ll go north, sir.’
Ostorius looked at the prefect in surprise. ‘North? You seem very sure of yourself.’
‘Where else can he go, sir? The Silurians suffered heavily yesterday and they won’t be keen to follow Caratacus any more. Nor will the Ordovices when word of his defeat spreads. That leaves two possibilities. Either he’ll make for the Druid stronghold on Mona. That’s close and he can be sure of a warm welcome there. But it’ll mean he’s bottled up and I would imagine that you have plans to take Mona at some point in the near future.’
‘I might,’ Ostorius conceded. ‘But go on. If not Mona then where will Caratacus make for, in your expert opinion?’
‘Brigantia,’ Cato answered without hesitation.
‘But we have a treaty with the Brigantes. He’d be mad to hand himself over to our allies.’
‘We have a treaty with Queen Cartimandua, sir. It’s not quite the same thing. From what I understand, the queen does not enjoy the backing of all of her people. If there’s a faction that stands against Rome, Caratacus will be sure to try and stir them up. If he can win the rest of the tribe over he’ll have a powerful army at his back to continue his war against us.’