‘I’ve only got two centuries, gentlemen, enough to stand guard and prevent the locals from ransacking the place while our backs are turned. The bulk of the cohort is concentrated further down the valley at Stone Fort, along with the Second Britannorum. That’s the spot where two valleys come together, so any attacker from the north has to pass through a narrow point in the valley, almost a gorge in truth. If we can’t stop an attacker there then we’re not going to be able to hold them anywhere else, and from here it’s an easy enough march to Napoca.’ He smiled knowingly at the tribunes. ‘And if you think this fort’s well constructed, you want to see the job Tribune Leontius has made of Stone Fort!’
The three cohorts marched on down the valley the next morning, along the road that paralleled the river’s winding path. Another hour’s march brought them within sight of the second of the three forts defending the valley, and Julius stared at the defences arrayed around its walls with a whistle of appreciation.
‘Now there, Tribune, is a fort that’s been set up by a man who knows his trade.’
Commanding the narrowest spot in the valley’s length, the fort’s walls were taller and longer than was usual, clearly big enough to house considerably more strength than the single five-hundred-man cohort that was the usual garrison’s complement. Even from a mile’s distance the structure was evidently built from stone rather than timber. Heavy towers were set on every corner, and the road ran into the fort’s eastern side through a massive stone double-doored gatehouse flanked by two more towers.
‘Are those bolt throwers?’
The first spear followed his tribune’s pointing hand and shook his head.
‘It’s hard to say with all that protection.’
The towers were topped by shallow wooden roofs set low enough that the heavy weapons’ crews would barely have sufficient headroom to work, a small enough price to pay for the resulting protection from enemy bowshot. As the Tungrians drew nearer they realised that the towers were indeed occupied by bolt throwers, one on each corner of the fort, and that the weapons’ crews were tracking their approach. Julius stared darkly up at them, shaking his head in irritation.
‘Very funny. If I find out that those things are loaded then I’m going to tear off someone’s head and shit down his neck. An accidental shot at this range would pin three or four men together.’
The ground to either side of the road was studded with lilies, the stake-filled pits that would deny an attacker any safe footing other than the road itself, and channel them into the bolt throwers’ killing zone. A deep ditch stretched across the valley’s four-hundred-pace width, a hundred paces in front of the fort’s rear wall. Julius nodded approvingly again, his ire at the bolt-thrower crews distracted by the defences.
‘Nice work. A ditch deep enough and steep enough on the far side to have a man climbing on all fours to get out of it, with a four-foot wall for the defenders on the far side and a nice little surprise at the bottom, no doubt.’
Scaurus squinted down into the ditch as they crossed the wooden bridge that spanned the gap, nodding in agreement.
‘So I see. And if this is how well they’ve chosen to defend the back door, one wonders what the side facing an enemy attack looks like?’
‘So you’re to march down the valley to Lakeside Fort on either side of the river looking for trouble, are you? That’s quite extraordinarily adventurous for Pescennius Niger, unless of course he’s been chivvied into taking a risk by his colleague Albinus!’ The tribune commanding Stone Fort laughed uproariously, tipping his head towards the other British cohort’s prefect. ‘And I thought my colleague here and I had drawn the short straw, but at least we’ve got a nice thick layer of stonework to hide behind!’
Scaurus shared a smile with him.
‘At least my men will get to sleep under proper roofs tonight, and with stoves to thaw their feet out.’
Leontius nodded.
‘Indeed. I’m sorry not to have any better hospitality to offer you, but as you can see, Stone Fort is rather spartan in its construction. No bath house for us, just enough barracks for half a legion and every other bit of spare space given over to storage. On the brighter side, we have enough rations in our storehouses to provision five thousand men for a fortnight, so nobody’s going to go hungry, just as long as they’re happy with bread and dried meat of a somewhat dubious quality. And let me tell you, gentlemen, your arrival is most welcome, not to mention the archers, given I expect to have a pack of angry Sarmatae dogs baying for blood on the other side of my western ditch within a day or two. What word do we have from Porolissum? Where do the grown-ups expect the Sarmatae will land the first punch?’
Scaurus smiled at his colleague’s irreverence.
‘The legati are convinced that any attack up the valley here will only be a feint. They have intelligence from within the Sarmatae camp, it seems. Domitius Belletor and I are ordered to reconnoitre forward from this position and attempt to locate the enemy. The ‘grown-ups’ have decided to convince Purta they’ve taken his bait by risking a couple of thousand men in a probe down this valley.’
Leontius’s face reflected his cynicism.
‘You do realise that in the event of any serious Sarmatae attack here you’ll be like a pair of boxers leading with your chins? Where I come from, Tribune, we have the saying that if it looks like a duck, waddles like a duck and quacks like a duck, it’s probably a duck. So in this case, colleagues, whether the legati are in receipt of secret intelligence or not, we’ll be treating any barbarian force that comes up the valley as the real thing. I don’t know about you gentlemen, but this country isn’t like any other I’ve served in, not with tens of thousands of men like those barbarian horsemen you marched in with, all spoiling for a fight not fifty miles to the north. And what starts out as a feint to deceive us might end up becoming the main line of attack overnight. You might just find yourselves marching your men head-on into an army of twenty thousand of the buggers. Go down the valley by all means, but I’d suggest that you be ready to come back up it as fast as you can, and join us here to defend the pass, if by some misfortune you find yourselves toe to toe with the entire Sarmatae nation. And now gentlemen, a toast!’ He raised his cup. ‘To secret intelligence! Let’s just pray it’s as accurate as it is secret!’
If the previous week had been cold, the next dawn found the Tungrian sentries clustered around their braziers in search of whatever heat was to be had whenever the duty centurion’s attention was elsewhere. A bitter wind was blowing from the north, sweeping curtains of snow down from the mountains onto the fort, and for a time it seemed that the weather would prevent the cohorts from fulfilling their mission. However, and to great disgust, shortly after the soldiers had taken their breakfast and were happily anticipating a day doing nothing more taxing than shivering in their tents, the storm front cleared away to leave Stone Fort under a clear blue sky and with temperatures low enough to freeze the water in the horse troughs solid. Scaurus gathered his centurions together in his quarter and issued the orders that their men were dreading.
‘We march. The legati are depending on us to deliver on our promise to make the Sarmatae believe that there’s a legion defending this pass, and deliver it we will. Make sure your men are wearing every piece of clothing they can muster, not that they’ll need much encouragement in these temperatures.’
Watched by the Britons, the cohorts marched out over the fort’s western gate and across the wooden bridge that, as with the eastern approach, was the only way over the ditch that had been dug across the valley’s full width.
‘What stops an attacker from just taking to the hills to either side and working their way around the ditch?’