‘We’ll let it pass,’ Sabinus said, his face concerned.
‘Well he said that they should tell the king to piss off, or words to that effect, and that Romans should not obey a barbarian’s demands. And him a Batavian, if you please, talking about barbarians. He said that we should press on, and if they wanted a fight, give it to them, for they would not find it as easy as all that. There’s some good lads in that garrison, who wouldn’t die that easily.
‘But the tribune says no, they must be sensible, and orders the prefect and seven or eight of the other senior officers to go with him and see the king. As escort, that meant me as well, although they only took a dozen of us. I did not dismount, but acted as horse-holder for a couple of men who did, otherwise I wouldn’t be here now.’ He paused to take another long drink.
‘Were they killed?’ Ferox asked.
‘No, sir, not that I saw, but at a signal warriors swarmed all around them, yelling their heads off, pinning them all by the arms and grabbing their swords. Reckon the king wanted more hostages or something. I managed to gallop off, knocked one sod out of my path, but did not use blade or spearpoint and maybe that was why they did not press too close. There was only one centurion left in charge and he led the whole column on. Now and then there were spears or arrows, or some warrior too wild or too pissed to stop himself from charging in, slashing at us with his falx. We killed a few and kept going. Lost a few too, but the centurion drove us and there was no big attack. Bit later a rider came close enough to shout that it was all a mistake and the king had punished the men responsible, but we just kept going. Late in the day, the centurion wanted to send riders out to warn all the garrisons. Been on the road ever since. Got chased a few times and they got the others. Saw a lot of men about ten miles away, marching along as if they owned the place. All armed and singing, but praise Herakles all on foot. You might be having a bit of trouble soon.’
‘You have done well, Maximus,’ Ferox said. ‘Now get some food and rest.’
‘And more wine?’
‘That too.’ Ferox beckoned to Sabinus. ‘Send a man to the praetorium and tell Philo to pass my apologies to the ladies, but I shall not be able to return to them until the night is well spent.’
‘Shall I have the alarm sounded?’ Sabinus asked.
‘No, not yet. I want to do the rounds of the sentries. It probably won’t be tonight, but we cannot take chances. Consilium for all officers in one hour’s time. In the meantime, I want you, Dionysius, to write a summary of all that the vexillarius has told us and have it copied and the first copy sent as soon as that is done. Send a couple of men each with a spare mount. They need news of this at Dobreta.’
Maximus rose stiffly to his feet. ‘Omnes ad stercus, sir?’
‘Omnes ad stercus.’
Maximus grinned. ‘Yes, thought so as soon as I saw you here. Just seemed natural after all that had happened. Had a feeling that you would turn up. Like old times.’
‘Good luck to you, Maximus.’
‘And you, sir.’
‘Odd chance running into an old comrade like that,’ Sabinus said after Maximus had gone.
‘Does seem like a small army sometimes,’ Ferox said.
‘Perhaps it is an omen.’
‘Perhaps. The last time we served together a legion died.’
XX
FEROX SILENTLY CURSED the mist and himself for having been so certain. The mist had appeared soon after sunset and thickened, as it had several times in the last month. The bright moon was no more than a vague presence, lending the mist a faint glow, while leaving it hard to see very far. The picket of half a dozen soldiers stood as darker shapes in the gloom where the road passed between the front ditch. That was an uncomfortable job at the best of times, and a long, slow nightmare when there was little chance of seeing an enemy until they were almost on top of them. All they could do was stand and wait, staring out into nothing and wondering when the attack would start. Ferox had been sure that the Dacians would attack, making the most of the night and the even heavier veil provided by the fog.
So the garrison was on alert, with half the men on the walls and the rest waiting in the closest barracks, sleeping in armour with helmets, shields and weapons to hand. That is if they could sleep. Some probably could, Ferox thought, for there were always those few who were able to close their eyes and be snoring in moments. More would pretend to sleep, eyes closed, but minds racing. Others talked, and that included some of the handful actually asleep. He had heard the murmurs of low conversation and the sudden shouts and screams of nightmares whenever he had taken a walk around to see how everyone was.
Yet most of the time he had stayed here, on the tower above the porta praetoria. Without the mist, a man up here on the gate tower would see glints from the river and could just about make out the dim shape of the bridge. Instead, during this long night there was nothing much visible beyond the shivering picket and the outer ditch, while even the closest buildings in the canabae were no more than vague shadows. If they survived this night, then he would have to see about tearing them down. Their occupants were inside the fort, on that much he had insisted, and as far as he could tell all had been brought in. If the enemy had been watching they would have seen this, or the unnatural quiet and absence of activity outside the fort earlier that evening, and guess that the garrison was wary and on the alert.
Maximus had spoken of a large force marching towards them, and if the Dacians were true to character what was visible would only be a part of their true strength. There was no good reason for them to wait, especially if they knew – as they surely would, that two hundred cavalry had ridden out before dawn and headed down the valley. Ferox did not hold out much hope for the supply convoy, but wanted to give its escort a chance and give the garrison any chance at all of getting the supplies it was bringing. In the official orders, the centurion Cunicius was in charge, but Claudia Enica and Vindex had also gone, with Bran and Minura to ride on either side of the queen, and he was confident that they would behave with sense and caution. That was almost all his cavalry. They should have a good chance unless they met a very large force, and perhaps they would be the only ones to escape if things went badly here. Yet it was odd that no word had come from them, since they had to camp out for at least one night
The night was almost spent, the moonlight long gone, but the pale, thin light of the dawn not far off. The enemy had not come and had not attacked, nor even shown the slightest sign that they were out there at all. Ferox glanced at the other men on the tower, at the legionaries and Vepoc with three more Brigantes. Their nervousness was fading as exhaustion washed over them, and even though he could not make out their faces he knew that all the men on the rampart top and in the other towers would be in the same state. These were the ones who had rested for the first half of the night, before coming to relieve the others, and then they had waited, staring into emptiness, fearful and swinging between boredom and excitement depending on each character. The enemy had not come, and all he had achieved was to deprive the garrison of rest and what might be the last good night’s sleep they would get for some time.
There was the sound of creaking wood as someone came up the ladder to the top of the tower, and he did not turn because he suspected it was Sabinus or one of the other officers and that he would have to admit that he had been wrong. There was a simple water clock under a little roof on the back corner of the tower, but he did not need to check to know that there was little more than a quarter of an hour until dawn. Ferox could feel it, and then heard the first chirrups of the birds waking to the new day.