The centurions and optios of the Thracian unit and the cohort of infantry from the Fourteenth Legion were sitting on a series of benches as Cato entered the hall. The space was lit by tallow lamps set in iron brackets along the walls, and heated by a brazier burning at one end.
As soon as Cato entered, Macro shot to his feet and barked out, ‘Commanding officer present!’
The other men hesitated until Quertus rose slowly to his feet and then they followed his lead. Cato made his way round the room to the space in front of the officers and indicated to Macro that he was ready.
‘At ease!’
The officers sat down and Cato gave them a moment to make themselves comfortable, and to run his eye over the men he now commanded. He had assumed that there would be a marked difference between the appearance of the officers of the Thracian cavalry cohort and those from the legion. Instead he was shocked to see that nearly every man was unshaven, with uncut hair tied back in the manner of Centurion Quertus. Only two of the centurions from the Fourteenth and their optios were recognisably Roman, with cropped hair and standard-issue tunics and boots. Cato felt his heart sink at the sight, and knew that he faced even more of a challenge than he had thought. He took a breath and clasped his authorisation in his hands behind his back.
‘Good evening, gentlemen. If this fort is like any other then word will already have got round about my arrival, but, for the record, I am Prefect Cato, appointed to command the garrison at Bruccium.’ He held the document holder up and flipped open the lid of the tube before extracting the authorisation bearing the Emperor’s seal. He raised it so all could see and then returned it to the leather case. He indicated Macro. ‘The other officer is Centurion Macro, taking up the command of the Fourth Cohort of the Fourteenth. Before I commence the briefing I wish to know more about the men I shall be commanding. One officer at a time.’
Before Cato could choose the first, Quertus was on his feet, arms folded. ‘Very well. I am Centurion Sycharus Quertus of Dacia. I was a prince among my people before I was forced to flee after my father was murdered. I was raised in Thrace, where I was conscripted into the regiment and sent to serve on the Rhine. There I remained until the regiment was ordered to join the army gathering for the invasion of Britannia. In the following campaigns I was promoted to optio and then centurion and twice decorated for valour in battle. On the death of Prefect Albinus, I became commander of the cohort, and the fort, and since then we have carried the war into the heart of Silurian territory and burned scores of villages and slaughtered thousands of the enemy. I have made Rome a word to be feared in the lands between Glevum and the sea. The enemy know my name, and it strikes terror into the hearts of all who hear it.’ He stretched out his arms and clenched his fists. ‘I am Quertus, the destroyer of all who dare stand in my path! None can defeat me!’
The other officers stamped their feet in approval and Quertus basked in their praise until he lowered his arms and they instantly fell silent again. He turned to Cato with a cold smile of satisfaction. ‘These officers are my brothers. They command my horse squadrons.’ He indicated them each in turn. ‘Fermatus, Cremax, Stellanus, Pindarus, Mithridates and Miro. Brave warriors all. Those others,’ he nodded to the legionary centurions, ‘they are infantry. Centurions Publius Severus and Gaius Petillius. They are tasked with defending the fort, since that is all they are fit for.’
The two centurions flushed with anger and shame but dared not respond to the insult directed at them. Quertus glared contemptuously at them before he turned his gaze back to Cato and cocked his head slightly to one side.
‘For months now we have waged our war against the Silurians, without interference from the legate at Glevum. I did not request anyone to replace Prefect Albinus. With respect, sir, you are not required, nor wanted here. You should return to Glevum. Tell the legate that I am carrying out his orders and will continue to do so until Silurians only exist in memory.’
Cato could see the blood draining from Macro’s face as he listened to this torrent of insolence and feared that his friend would intervene. He stepped between them and faced Quertus.
‘Centurion, you don’t get to say who is required here and who is not. You, and I, are subject to the rules and regulations of the Roman army. We have both sworn an oath to the Emperor to obey those he places over us without question. I have been ordered to assume command here and you will recognise my authority to do so. We both know the severe penalties that are applied to those who refuse to obey their orders. In recognition of the success of your operations here, I will, on this occasion, overlook your insubordination and put it down to the consequences of the zeal with which you have taken the war to the enemy. But I will not tolerate such behaviour from you again. Is that understood?’
Quertus stared at Cato with a bemused expression that only angered, and alarmed, Cato even more. Quertus bowed his head mockingly.
‘As the prefect wishes. .’
‘I do. Sit down,’ Cato said firmly and, to his relief, the Thracian did as he was told. Cato waited a moment for the tension in the atmosphere to ease. ‘Regardless of the success you have enjoyed in recent months, the aim of the governor’s campaign must be kept in mind. The purpose of constructing forts like Bruccium is to restrict the movements of the enemy and to harass the tribes with a view to forcing Caratacus to concentrate his forces to deal with us. It is at that point that the main Roman army can advance against the enemy and try to force them into a decisive battle. If we crush the Silures and the Ordovices then Caratacus will be a spent force. No other tribe will be prepared to let him lead them to defeat. And since there is no more able commander amongst the natives, then the threat to Roman interests in Britannia will be dealt with, once and for all. My task is to see that the garrison of Bruccium plays its part in this overall plan. I will not tolerate any officer, or soldier, who does not understand and accept their duty. This garrison is part of the Roman army, and I will see to it that it conforms to the standards expected of Roman soldiers. The first step along that road will be a full inspection of every man in the garrison at first light tomorrow. I shall also want strength returns, inventories of kit, food supplies for the men and feed for the horses. Those records will be kept up to date and relevant copies sent to the headquarters staff. There will be changes in the way the garrison operates from now on and you would be wise to cooperate as fully as possible.’ He paused briefly. ‘Until tomorrow morning, gentlemen. Dismissed!’
Once again there was a pause while the officers waited for Quertus to provide the lead. He stood up and turned to them. ‘You heard the prefect. Dismissed!’
They rose obediently and began to file out of the hall. Meanwhile, Cato fought hard to suppress the humiliation that burned in his veins. He waited until there were only a couple of officers remaining, and Quertus, before he called out to him.
‘Centurion Quertus. A word, if you please.’
Quertus shrugged and turned back and sat on one of the rearmost benches while the last of the officers disappeared into the corridor outside, casting curious looks over their shoulders. Macro remained where he stood.
‘Want me to remain behind as well, sir?’
‘No need, Centurion. You may go.’
‘Yes, sir!’ Macro saluted smartly and marched from the hall.
As the door closed, Cato turned his attention to the thickset Thracian. Now that he had removed his cloak and sat in his tunic, Cato could see that he was even more powerfully built than he had thought. The man had a physique to match the best of the wrestlers in the arena at Rome and his glowering features were enough to arm him with an irresistibly intimidating demeanour. Cato had to forcibly remind himself of his superior rank, and the need to ensure that it was honoured. He narrowed his eyes a fraction as he stared at the Thracian.