The governor lowered his gaze and reflected a moment before he continued. ‘Many of our comrades have shed blood here, and many have fallen. If we are ordered to abandon Britannia then that sacrifice will have been for nothing. As I see it, I have two courses of action open to me, if the sacrifice of our comrades is to have had a purpose. I must utterly destroy the remaining tribes who oppose us here, or make a lasting peace with them. Either way, it must be done as swiftly as possible, so that there is peace in the province before a new Emperor ascends the throne. Only then will there be no excuse to pull out of Britannia. That is why I have invited the kings and chiefs of every tribe as far north as the Brigantes to a meeting to discuss terms to end the conflict. I have given my word that safe passage through our frontier will be granted to the tribes that have not already allied themselves to us.’
Macro hesitated before he asked the obvious question. ‘Do you intend to keep your word, sir?’
‘Of course.’
‘Even if Caratacus himself turns up? If we bag him, and the others who are causing us trouble, we could put an end to the native resistance as quick as boiled asparagus.’
Ostorius sighed and shook his head. ‘Or, we could outrage all the tribes and provide them with a cause to unite them against us — as swiftly as the culinary cliché you suggest. Perhaps it would be best if you kept such thoughts to yourself, Centurion. Leave the thinking to wiser heads, eh?’
Macro pressed his lips together and clenched his fists behind his back as he nodded curtly in response to the put-down. There was an uncomfortable silence before Cato turned the conversation in a different direction.
‘When and where is this meeting to take place, sir?’
‘In ten days’ time, at one of their sacred groves, some sixty miles west of Londinium. I will take a small bodyguard with me.’ He suddenly looked at Cato and smiled. ‘There’s no immediate rush for you two to join your units. In any case, it’s only a small diversion from the road to Glevum.’
‘Us?’ Cato could not hide his surprise. ‘But we’re soldiers, sir. Not diplomats. Besides, we hoped to join our new commands as soon as possible. If the coming campaign is going to be tough then I want to get to know the men I am leading as well as possible before we go into action.’
‘That won’t be necessary, if we can make peace with our enemies. And since you have met Caratacus before, you may prove to be useful during the negotiations. You’re both coming with me.’
‘Very well, sir. As you command. There’s just one thing. What makes you think the enemy will be prepared to make peace with us?’
Ostorius replied in a cold tone, ‘Because if they don’t, then I shall make it perfectly clear that before the year is out, every last village in every tribe that still opposes us will be razed to the ground, and those natives that are spared will all be sold into slavery. .’ The governor yawned. ‘And now I must take some rest. That will be all, gentlemen. I suggest you enjoy the few delights that Londinium has to offer while you can. I’m sure they’ll have some suggestions in the officers’ mess. Dismissed.’
Macro and Cato stood to attention, saluted and then turned to leave. Ostorius stared down at the piles of records and reports at his feet for a moment and then rose slowly from his stool and walked stiffly to the narrow campaign cot that had been set up by the wall. Easing himself down, he lay on his side, still wearing his boots, and pulled his cloak over his body as best as he could before he fell into a troubled sleep.
‘What do you make of him?’ Macro asked when they were a short distance down the corridor outside the governor’s office.
Cato glanced round and saw that there were no clerks near enough to overhear his remarks. ‘He’s at the end of his tether. Worn out by his duties. But I’ve heard that he’s as tough a commander as any.’
Macro shrugged. ‘Being tough does not make you immune to age. I know that well enough. I ain’t as fast in a fight as I used to be. Comes to us all in the end.’
Cato shot him a look. ‘Just don’t let it come to you while you’re fighting at my side. Last thing I need is some old codger guarding my flank when we get stuck into the enemy.’
‘That’s pretty ungrateful, given how I had to nursemaid you through your first battles when you were a green recruit.’ Macro laughed and shook his head. ‘I’d never have guessed then that you’d turn out to be quite the soldier.’
Cato smiled. ‘I learned from the best.’
‘Shut up, lad. You’ll make me cry.’ Macro chuckled. Then his expression hardened. ‘Seriously though. I have my doubts about our new general. The way he looks now, a few months in the field will kill him off. Right in the middle of the campaign.’
‘Not if he can negotiate a peace with Caratacus. Or at least with enough tribes to islolate him.’
‘What chance do you think there is that Caratacus wants peace?’
Cato thought back to the small hut in which he had been questioned by Caratacus. He remembered all too vividly the determined gleam in the Briton’s eyes when he said that he would die rather than bow to Rome.
‘If I was a betting man, I’d give you odds of a hundred to one against.’
‘And I’d say those are generous odds, my friend.’ Macro clicked his tongue. ‘We’re in for a tough time of it, Cato. Just for a change.’
‘Nothing we can do about it.’
‘Oh yes there is!’ Macro grinned. ‘You heard the man; there’s all the delights of Londinium awaiting us.’ His expression became a little anxious. ‘Just as long as you don’t let on to my mother, eh?’
CHAPTER FIVE
‘Well, boys, what do you think of this place?’ Portia asked as they took a table close to the inn’s fireplace. It was the evening of their third day in Londinium and she was accompanied by her son and Cato. Just for a change it was raining again, a steady downpour angled by a stiff breeze that lashed the streets of Londinium, pattered off the few tiled buildings and ran off the thatched roofs of the rest. The inn had once been a large barn before it had been extended with outbuildings that formed a modest courtyard in front of the entrance. A gate opened out on to a wide street that stretched from the quay on the Tamesis up to the site of the basilica complex. Despite the weather the street was busy and the rattle of cartwheels and the braying of mules could be clearly heard over the hiss of the rain.
Macro drew back the hood of his military cape and ran a quick glance over his surroundings. The inn was warm and dry and the floor was paved and liberally covered with straw to absorb the filth on the boots and sandals of those coming in from the street. There was a bar counter to one side, inset with large jars to hold the stew and heated wine that was served to customers. Several long tables with benches on either side filled most of the open space. Despite all the renovations, there was still a faint tang of horse sweat in the air, but Macro did not mind. There were worse odours.