Julius watched in disgust over her shoulder as the soldier tasked with fetching the party’s dinner took grateful advantage of his first spear’s unplanned delay by hurrying into the tent with a large pot, presumably filled with whatever the man had been able to beg, borrow and in all likelihood steal from his fellow soldiers. He opened his mouth to protest, only to find a hard finger pressed against it. ‘So if you want to be warming your feet in anything better than your cloak tonight, then you’ll put a smile on that big ugly face and follow me into the tent as if the lad’s presence is the best thing that’s happened to you all day. Won’t you?’
Opening his mouth to agree with alacrity, given that he’d learned from grim experience not to take the lady’s favours for granted, he found himself not only silenced but utterly amazed by her parting comment as she turned back to the tent.
‘And besides, it’s about time we found out just how good a father you’re going to make, isn’t it?’
‘Whatever it was she told him, he went as white as a legionary’s arse, according to the soldier he sent to run for his dinner. And when the evening guard reported for a kicking as ordered, rather than ripping them all a new one he just sent them away with no more than a warning not to let it happen again. My mate in the Seventh Century said that the poor bastard looked as if he’d been smacked with an axe handle. And now look at him. .’
Morban and Arminius turned as one man to look at Julius as the first spear strode down the line of the Fifth Century’s tents, his expression that of a man with a deep preoccupation. The standard bearer raised a knowing eyebrow at his companion.
‘I’ve closed the book on whether she’s with child or not, and I’m offering two to three on a boy, evens on a girl. Let’s see if we can get some confirmation, eh?’
He snapped off an improbably precise salute, which Julius ignored other than casting a brief sardonic glance at the standard bearer.
‘Good morning, First Spear, sir!’ Julius’s lack of reaction to his artificially breezy greeting only provoked Morban to continue his salutation. ‘It’s a beautiful clear day, sir, perhaps we’ll get that wall. .’
He fell silent as the first spear stopped in his tracks, turned his head to stare expressionlessly at him, then rotated his body and stepped forward to put his nose only inches from Morban’s face. When he spoke his voice was a low growl.
‘Good morning, Standard Bearer. Yes, it is indeed a good day for building a wall, and yes, we will indeed be completing the initial construction today. As to any questions you may have for me, I’d suggest that this is one of those times when discretion would most definitely be the better part of bravery. Whisper your gossip and lay your odds all you like, but don’t be expecting me to provide you with any encouragement. Now get on fucking parade.’
Julius turned away from the standard bearer, who pursed his lips in silent comment but otherwise sensibly kept his mouth firmly closed. The first spear turned back to Arminius.
‘Centurion Corvus?’
The German pointed down the line of tents to where the medical wagon stood beside Felicia’s hospital tent.
‘Is with his wife, saying his farewells.’
Julius found his colleague sitting on a wooden chest with his baby son cradled in his lap while Felicia fussed around him.
‘Are you ready?’
Marcus nodded, standing and handing Appius to his wife, kissing her gently before turning to follow the first spear from the tent. They walked down to the section of the camp where the cohort’s cavalry detachment had taken up residence, finding five horsemen standing by their mounts, ready to ride, with Marcus’s captured mare in their midst. Julius nodded in return to their leader’s salute and to the tracker Arabus who seemed to have been drafted into the party.
‘Morning, Silus. Have you worked out how you’re going to carry out the tribune’s orders?’
The grizzled decurion pointed to a rough map sketched in the earth before them.
‘According to the miners there’s only one road down which an invader would be likely to make his approach to the mine. The same track we marched up runs on past the end of this valley and away to the north, eventually joining up with another valley, which contains a stream that the locals call the Gold River, aptly enough, which in turn feeds the Marisus, deep in hostile territory. If you were aiming to lead a warband out of the plains and bring them here, then I doubt you could do very much better than to lead them up the banks of the Marisus, turn up the Gold and follow it all the way up its valley. That many men will need a lot of water, and the stream will also provide reliable navigation. I plan to ride down the Gold’s banks, with the centurion’s scout here to look for any tracks they might have left, and if we find nothing of note then I’ll set up a watch post on the valley side and wait to see what turns up. When it’s evident that they’ve arrived we’ll ride back and warn you. Just make sure you leave us a way back inside the wall, eh?’
Julius nodded grimly.
‘You’d best be careful not to outstay your welcome once the barbarians make their appearance. I’d rather find out they’ve arrived some other way than watching your heads bobbing about on spears.’
Silus turned away, jumping into his mount’s saddle.
‘Don’t worry about us, we’ll give the unwashed hordes the appropriate measure of respect. You’ll have plenty to keep you busy, I expect, what with finishing off the defences and choosing a name for the impending arrival?’
Julius nodded without any change in his expression.
‘Indeed. I was discussing that very subject with the baby’s mother-to-be last night, and the two of us were pretty much agreed to call the baby after you. .’ He waited for a moment, allowing the idea to sink in and then, before Silus could muster any reply, shook his head sadly. ‘Until Annia pointed out that any child called “Nosey Arsehole” was going to be at a disadvantage in life.’
Silus threw back his head and laughed uproariously.
‘Harsh but fair, First Spear, harsh but fair. Come along then, Centurion Two Knives, let’s get you mounted and be on our way. I want to be tucked up in our hiding place before the sun gets too high. And since the subject of our first spear’s impending arrival is clearly forbidden, we’ll work out what to call that greedy little mare of yours instead.’
The assembled centurions of the two Tungrian cohorts snapped to attention as Julius stalked into the morning officers’ meeting. Some of them stared fixedly at the hills behind him, not daring to meet his eyes, while others, men that had known him longer and in one or two cases had previously outranked him, met his stare with hard, impassive eyes.
‘Gentlemen, the rumour’s all over the camp so let’s lay it to rest. Yes, I am going to be a father. At some point in the future when we’re all staggering drunk in celebration of beating off the barbarians and toasting those of us that don’t survive the experience, you’re all welcome to take the piss as much as you like, as long as you don’t mind having your many and varied shortcomings exposed in return. For now though’ — he looked around at his officers, taking stock of their grim, bearded faces — ‘I couldn’t give a shit about any of that. We have one objective today, to get that wall built high enough and strong enough to resist a determined attack by thousands of gold-crazed barbarians. The tribune is away making sure that the legion centuries on the slopes to either side of the wall will have their defences in place, but we all know that if they’re going to come at us it has to be straight up the valley. Yes, they’ll send patrols round the flanks but they’ll get no joy there. It will all come down to a straight fight to get over the wall, and as far as I’m concerned, we have to have it ready to defend by the time darkness falls tonight.’
He looked around at his officers with a hard stare.
‘So it’s time to stop the soft treatment. We need those miners working like animals today, not taking this as an opportunity to get some sunshine on their backs, so here’s a direct instruction for all of you. The first man you see slacking off, soldier or miner, you take your vine stick to him and you make it clear to all of them that the next one will be getting a tickle from this. .’ He held up the whip, allowing its braided leather straps to hang free. ‘And if you have to, then you send the next man you have to pull up to me. I’ll be setting up a whipping post by the main gate so that anyone who gets to ride it does so in full view of the rest. Now get to it, and don’t let me down.’