The Legion

'It ain't as simple as that, sir,' Macro responded. 'We have good reason to believe that the Nubians have been joined by the fugitive slave that Prefect – Tribune Cato and I had been hunting before we were reassigned to the legion.'

'Oh? And how did you come by this snippet of intelligence?'

'We questioned the survivor of the ambush, sir. He told us that a gladiator led the attack and left a survivor to tell the tale.'

'Nonsense,' Aurelius said firmly. 'The man is delirious. You heard the decurion say so earlier this morning.'

'He seemed lucid enough when we spoke to him, sir,' said Cato. 'If Ajax serves with the Nubians then I think it is vital that we, who have faced Ajax before, and know his methods, should be involved in any plans that are made for the coming campaign.'

Aurelius shook his head. 'I think the fact that you have failed to track down and capture this man is eloquent testimony of your failure to comprehend his methods, Tribune. Perhaps it is time a fresh mind was set to the task. Meanwhile I would like you, and Centurion Macro, to take care of the training. I want a full report on your training scheme, and an accurate projection of the number of men who will be fit to serve once the campaign begins. I would like that report on my desk as soon as possible.' He offered them a brief smile. 'I think you will soon see that we have the measure of our enemy, without the help of any advice you might care to offer. That is all, gentlemen.'

'Yes, sir.' Cato saluted, and after a brief hesitation Macro followed suit. They turned about and strode swiftly away from Aurelius and his staff.

'Why the hell didn't you say something, sir?' asked Macro in an undertone.

'I did, in case you missed it.'

'How dare he dismiss us in such a fashion!' Macro fumed. 'You in particular. No commander of a legion ever ignores the advice of his senior tribune and his first spear centurion. Not if he's any good.'

'It is only common practice, Macro. He is under no obligation to consult us.'

Macro was silent, then he glanced at Cato. 'Fuck, you were right, sir.'

'I was? What about?'

'The situation just got more dangerous.'

CHAPTER TWENTY

Five days later Cato and Macro were standing to one side of the makeshift parade ground outside the temple complex. It was late in the afternoon and the regular breeze that swept in from the desert was swirling the dust kicked up by the First Cohort of the legion as it tramped round the circuit, laden with full kit and marching yokes. A number of men had already collapsed from exhaustion and had been hauled aside to recover in the shade of Karnak's outer wall. The stragglers were being driven on by the centurions and optios Macro had selected to act as his drill instructors. Some of them had served in other legions and still clung to the hard-won values that had been instilled before they were posted to Egypt. They shouted abuse and threats at the legionaries, and used their sticks freely to spur the men on.

Macro regarded the scene fondly. 'Like old times. Nothing I like better than getting the men ready for battle.'

'Nothing?' asked Cato with an amused expression.

'All right, there's wine and there's women too. I'm not that picky. Find me a boozy, belligerent Amazon and I'll die a happy man.'

Cato laughed and then turned his attention back to the exhausted men as they paced past the two officers. 'What is the condition of the First Cohort?'

Macro rubbed his chin. 'Most of the men are sound enough. They struggled on the first two days, but they've rediscovered their marching boots. They're ready for the campaign. Battle drill is another matter.'

'Oh?'

'The sword skills are there. They've had regular weapons practice at least. The trouble is that some of the formations are shaky. When I tried each century on forming a testudo there were gaps wide enough to drive a battering ram through. Looked more like an upended colander than a bloody tortoise. They're getting better though, now that I've turned my best officers on them.'

'What about the others?' asked Cato. 'Are some of the officers still claiming to be excused duties?'

Macro nodded sourly. 'When I told 'em to join the men this morning, they refused. I gave them the order, and at once that fat git, Aescher, went straight to Aurelius and asked that he and the others be excused.' Macro discreetly pointed out the officers sitting in the shade of a small shrine at the far end of the parade ground. 'They came straight back with their permission in writing.'

A slave stood to one side cooling them with a large fan made from woven palm leaves while some women from the camp followers sat on their laps and laughed playfully as the officers fondled them. Macro sniffed. 'Smug bastards.'

'Quite,' Cato agreed. 'It does the men no good to see their officers sitting it out. And that includes us. I think we need to set an example, Macro.'

'What did you have in mind, sir?'

'Have all the officers issued marching kit tomorrow morning, whether they are excused from drilling or not. You and me included. And also, find Hamedes and have him join us.'

'Hamedes?' Macro smiled. 'I haven't seen him for days. Bloody little drill dodger.'

'He asked me for permission to visit the local temples. He says he knows some of the priests here and is looking for a position once the campaign is over.'

'And he's doing this while on the payroll as a scout, I take it.'

'Naturally.'

'Then he'll have to earn his pay. I'll march him on to the parade ground myself tomorrow morning.' Macro rubbed his hands at the prospect. 'What kind of drill did you have in mind?'

'A route march down the Nile for the First Cohort. We'll have the legion's senior officers, and Hamedes, at the head of the column where the men can see us, and be sure to let the drill instructors know that the officers are not to be given any slack.'

Macro stared at him with an amused expression. 'What do you hope to achieve?'

'Think of it as an experiment in winnowing. Let's see if we can separate the chaff from the men.' Cato folded his arms and turned his attention back to the men of the cohort again. 'What about the other cohorts?'

'A similar picture. The cohorts led by good officers will be ready as soon as they've had a few more days of hard drilling. The problem units are the Seventh and Ninth Cohorts. They're commanded by cronies of Aurelius.'

'Then add them to tomorrow's route march. The other cohorts can be exercised over the following days.'

'Yes, sir.' Macro grinned briefly. 'What about the auxiliary units?'

While Macro had been put in charge of drilling the legion, Aurelius had ordered him to leave the drilling of the auxiliary cohorts to their prefects. Cato still had oversight of the process. He took a weary breath.

'Both of the infantry cohorts are in fair shape. Their prefects are looking for a chance to prove themselves and win advancement. So they've kept their men on their toes. The Syrian mounted cohort is first class. They know how to look after their horses and they manoeuvre well. The Alexandrian mounted cohort is a different matter. They have something of a superior attitude and their prefect seems to think they are the direct descendants of Alexander's Companion Cavalry. They drink hard and the discipline is a little sloppy. No question of their elan though. I just hope that they last the distance when the army marches. Then they'll have a chance to live up to their self-regard.'

'Or they'll discover that they're a bunch of gutless worms and bolt from the battlefield.'

Cato shrugged uncomfortably. Both men were silent for a moment before Macro continued. 'Any luck with the new legate on the planning front?'

'No. He still refuses to consult me. I've asked him when he intends to lead the army out of Diospolis Magna and he just says we will take the field when the situation is propitious.'

'Propitious?' Macro mused.

'He refused to clarify when I asked him. The thing is, he had better give the order soon, or the enemy will have free run of all the province between here and the cataract. They've already advanced on Ombos. The last report from the garrison there was that the Nubians were about to place them under siege. Even then, Aurelius refused to move.'