Arminius snorted again.
‘Even a blade that was forged so keen that it will cut through a shield as if the board were made from parchment?’
The massive Briton answered on Marcus’s behalf, his expression foreboding in the fire’s half-light.
‘Centurion need sharp iron soon. This place be watch from hills around. Lugos feels eyes.’
The Roman looked at Martos and Arminius, and found both men nodding in agreement. The Votadini prince spoke first.
‘We all feel them, Centurion. Our enemy, whoever they may be, is close at hand. This place will know a bloody day soon enough.’
2
The detachment’s officers gathered in Tribune Belletor’s new headquarters soon after sunrise to meet with the mining complex’s procurator, the man charged with extracting the maximum possible output of gold from the mines whose entrances pocked the valley’s hillsides. The centurions had climbed up the road from their camp to the straggling town of Alburnus Major, casting disapproving glances at the seedy drinking establishments and whorehouses that seemed to be the town’s major form of commerce. Now they were crowded into the headquarters’ briefing room, listening intently as the mine’s administrator briefed them on the valley’s value to the empire.
Procurator Maximus was a tall, painfully thin man with a half-starved look about him that Marcus found slightly disquieting in the company of so many heavily muscled soldiers as he watched the man from the back of the room. The detachment’s senior officers stood closest to him as he went through an obviously well-practised explanation of the mine’s operation. Scaurus carefully positioned himself a half-pace behind his colleague and superior Belletor, who was wearing the smug expression of a man who felt in complete control of his situation and was unable to keep that knowledge from his face. The youngest of the three senior officers stood at Belletor’s other shoulder, his tunic decorated with a thick purple senatorial stripe identical to that of his colleague’s, and in obvious contrast to Scaurus’s thinner equestrian line. Marcus was watching him with careful glances, being sure not to stare at the man for very long so as not to draw attention to himself. Scaurus had told his centurions to form an opinion of the youngest tribune before they had set off for the meeting.
‘Keep a good eye on young Sigilis, gentlemen, and take his measure now while you have the leisure to do so. You may find yourself under his command if I fail in this continual struggle not to break my esteemed colleague’s nose, so you might as well try to understand what sort of man he is now, rather than the first time you find yourselves taking orders from him.’
Marcus observed the young tribune carefully, taking good care to keep a man between them and watch from the shadows so as not to attract his attention in return. His main impression of Lucius Carius Sigilis was that of his younger self, albeit seen from the far side of the chasm that had opened between himself and Roman society with his family’s mass execution on a false charge of treason raised by the shadowy men behind the emperor, in order to clear the way for the confiscation of their huge wealth. Watching the tribune through the throng of men between them, he realised that the confident set of the young man’s face was achingly familiar. Sigilis was clearly possessed of the same utter self-belief that had been his in the months before his uncomprehending flight to Britain. They were so alike, and yet. . Marcus smiled darkly to himself, musing on the barbarian uprising that had swept northern Britannia soon after his arrival. The Tungrians’ first desperate battles to survive in the face of the revolt’s ferocity had been the fire in which he had been transformed from son of privilege to capable centurion, his former prejudices and expectations of life burned away in the white heat of a succession of pitched battles. He wrenched his attention back to the procurator’s words, shaking his head slightly to dispel the memories.
‘And so I welcome you all to the Ravenstone valley, gentlemen, and to our mining colony of Alburnus Major. I have roughly five thousand miners currently engaged in extraction and refining processes, working for three investors who fund the necessary resource and expertise, and who in turn take a share of the profits of our enterprise. Most of our mining operations are below ground these days, since the potential for surface mining is all but done, and that makes the process much more laborious and labour-intensive. What with digging into the mountains to find the gold-bearing rock, processing the ore to extract its gold, ventilation to keep the miners alive and hundreds of men working day and night to drain off the water from the mines. . well, I can assure you that it’s all very costly.’
He beamed at the gathered officers knowingly.
‘I can however, also assure you gentlemen that it’s very much worth the expense. My last posting as a Procurator of Mines was in Mount Marianus in Spain, and we were lucky if we dug out ten pounds of gold a day. Here in Alburnus Major we’re averaging ninety pounds of gold per day, which makes the mines hugely profitable by comparison. That’s over thirty thousand pounds a year without any sign of the seams thinning out. There is said to be enough gold in these mountains to pave a road from here to the Forum in Rome itself, and I can well believe it.’ He looked around the room with a portentous expression. ‘Which means that the loss of this facility would have the direst implications for the imperial treasury.’
‘Not to mention his career.’
Ignoring Julius’s whispered comment, Marcus focussed his attention on the procurator, who was still speaking.
‘So you see, gentlemen, my original request to the governor for some soldiers to back up my own security force wasn’t made lightly. I have men from just about every province in the north-eastern portion of the empire working in this valley, and from pretty much every one of the tribes beyond our northern frontier for that matter, and there is no real way to be certain of their loyalty to the empire. I don’t doubt that among them will be a few spies sent in by the Sarmatae to wait until the time is right and then guide their warriors through the mountains to fall upon us without warning or mercy. It was something of a surprise when Legatus Albinus chose to withdraw his men from the valley, even if we did have the report that you were only a few days away.’ He looked about him with an expression of relief that to Marcus’s eye appeared in no way feigned, and spread his hands to encompass the gathering. ‘But here you are. Alburnus Major is safe again, and just in time if your encounter with enemy scouts on the road yesterday is any guide. Might I ask how you plan to establish the appropriate degree of security for my mines?’
The question was directed at Belletor, who started slightly, then scratched at his bearded chin in the manner of a man deep in thought.
‘Well, ah. .’
The silence stretched out just long enough to be vaguely embarrassing and then, just as every man present was weighing up how best to speak up without making the young tribune look foolish, Scaurus’s voice broke the silence.
‘I would imagine that my colleague’s careful thought is attributable to his desire not to provide embarrassment to the previous defenders, even in their absence. The Thirteenth Gemina Legion was responsible for the defence of the valley until recently, I believe?’
The procurator nodded knowingly, and Belletor’s face assumed the appropriately neutral cast of a man who had indeed been searching for a way to critique the mine’s defences without criticising his predecessors.
‘They were, Tribune Scaurus, and your superior is right to avoid offering offence to their deeds here, even in their absence. Although when they were recalled to Apulum to concentrate with the other cohorts of the legion I was forced to note that they left us without either manpower or physical defences to protect the emperor’s gold against the Sarmatae, other than the few men I employ to guard my strongroom.’