'That's absurd. He'd never stand a chance.'
'He knows that, sir. But the army is the only family Cato has got. Without us, he's nothing. He'd do anything to earn his place back in the legion. That's why I'm sure he's out there in the marsh somewhere, biding his time and waiting for the right opportunity. Why, he's probably watching us right now… And he wouldn't be the only one, sir. Look there!'
Macro nodded down towards the nearest farmstead. A small number of figures were looking towards the fort from behind some low hayricks barely a quarter of a mile away. The distant figures just watched and made no movement.
'Want me to send out a patrol to scare 'em off, sir?'
'No.' Maximius stared hard at the farmers. 'That can wait until tomorrow. In the meantime let the locals spread word of our arrival, and let them sweat. We want to generate all the fear and anxiety we can.'
The next morning the cohort broke camp and marched down the valley. Macro was aware of being watched every step of the way. Occasionally he would glance round and catch sight of a face disappearing behind a tree, or dropping out of sight amid one of the fields of crops they passed by. His long years of experience had given him a good eye for the ground and he scrutinised any good sites for an ambush as they marched along. But there was no ambush, not one act of defiant hostility as the legionaries tramped along through the peaceful valley.
After an hour's steady marching the column followed the track around the forest and turned up the slope of the small hillock Maximius had chosen for their camp. To their left, across the stream, on a gentle rise, sprawled a large village comprised of the usual round huts, together with smaller structures for stables and storage. Smoke eddied gently from the vents of a number of the huts. A few figures moved on the palisade that surrounded the village and Macro noted that the gates were closed.
'Officers on me!' Maximius bellowed.
When all his centurions and optios had gathered the cohort commander removed his helmet, mopped his brow with the felt liner and began his briefing. The rest of the men began work on the area marked out for the camp by the surveyors. A screen of sentries spread out around the crown of the hill, while their comrades began to swing their pickaxes, breaking up the ground for the ditch and rampart.
'Tullius!'
'Sir?'
'I want an extra ditch dug around the camp. Make sure that the ground between the ditches is sown with caltrops. Have some Lilies dug into the ground as well.'
Tullius nodded approvingly. The small pits with sharpened stakes at their centre would be a useful additional defence.
'Yes, sir. I'll pass the word to the surveyor.'
'No. You'll see to it yourself. I want it done properly. I also want a fortified gateway thrown across the main track where it comes out of that marsh. See that it's taken care of the moment our camp is erected.'
'Yes, sir.'
'Now then,' Maximius cleared his throat, and focused his attention on the optios.'You know why we're here. The general and the legate want those men brought back. They're out there in the marsh, as far as we know. You optios will be running regular patrols into the marsh. We don't know the tracks and paths through the marsh, but,' Maximius smiled,'we should be able to persuade some of the locals to act as guides a little bit later. In the meantime, despite the fact it looks quiet round here, we should be prepared at all times for an attack in strength.'
Some of the officers exchanged looks of surprise. There had been no indication of trouble as they marched down the valley, and the farmers that lived here probably wielded nothing more deadly than a scythe.
Maximius smirked at their expressions. 'I can see that some of you think I'm being over cautious. Maybe, but don't forget that Caratacus still has a few men left, wherever he is…'
Quite enough men, thought Macro. At least enough to wipe out the cohort.
'You don't have to worry about the locals. And you don't have to worry about creating any good relations with them. In fact,' Maximius paused to lend weight to his next words, 'I want you to treat them in a way that makes it painfully clear that Rome is here to stay, and that they are absolutely beholden to our will and at our mercy. You will punish any sign of resistance as harshly as you can… Do you understand?'
Heads nodded, and there was a murmur of assent.
'Good. Because if I see any of you going soft on the natives, or showing one shred of compassion or sympathy, then that man will have me to answer to, directly. And I will personally kick his balls through the top of his skull. Clear? Now then, all we need to do is set the tone…'
Half an hour later the First Century set off down the slope with Maximius at the head of the column, accompanied by all the optios and Centurions Macro, Antonius and Felix. Tullius, the most senior officer after Maximius, was left to oversee the construction of the camp, and watched anxiously as the small column tramped towards the native village on the far side of the stream. A trampled and churned funnel of earth on each side of the gentle current indicated the presence of a crossing point, and Maximius and his men splashed through the shallows with a loud churning of spray before they emerged dripping on the far bank and started up a worn track towards the flimsy palisade that surrounded the village.
As they approached Macro could see several faces peering at them either side of the gate, and for a moment he wondered if the villagers would make any attempt at resisting the heavily armed Roman column. He raised his hand and let it rest on the pommel of his short sword, ready to draw the weapon the instant there was any sign of trouble. Around him, Macro sensed the growing tension amongst the other officers, and as they came within slingshot range of the gate Maximius gave the order to halt. For a moment he glanced over the defences, then turned to Macro.
'What do you think?'
Macro saw that there was still only a handful of natives watching them, and none of them appeared to be armed.
'Seems safe enough, sir.'
Maximius scratched his neck.'Then why's the gate still shut, I wonder?' He turned towards the front rank of the column. 'I'll send some men forward, just in case…'
'No need, sir.' Macro nodded past him. 'Look.'
The gates were swinging inwards, and a short distance inside the village stood a group of men. At their head was a tall, thin figure with flowing white hair. He leaned on a staff and remained quite still.
Centurion Felix moved closer to Macro. 'Welcoming committee, do you think?'
'If it is, then it won't be for long,' Macro replied quietly.
Satisfied that there was no sign of danger Maximius gave the order for the column to approach. As he fell under the shadow of the palisade the man with the staff finally moved, striding purposefully forward to meet his visitors at the threshold of his village. He started to make a speech in a rich deep voice.
'Stop!' Maximius raised a hand and called back over his shoulder. 'Interpreter! On me!'
A legionary doubled forward, one of the recent replacements from Gaul. Macro saw that he had the same Celtic features as the villagers he was about to question. The legionary stood to attention between Centurion Maximius and the elderly native.
'Find out what he wants to say, and tell him to keep it brief,' Maximius snapped.
As the legionary translated the terse request the village chief looked confused at first, and then frowned. When he replied, there was no mistaking the bitter tone of his words.
'Sir,' the legionary turned to Maximius, 'he merely wanted to welcome you to the valley and assure you that he, and his people, will offer you no harm. He had wanted to offer you the hospitality of his hut, and a chance to buy supplies from his farmers. But he says he is surprised. He had heard that Rome was a great civilisation, yet her representatives are so lacking in civility…'