‘Here. Give her this.’
Silus tossed the Roman an apple, wrinkled from a long time in the store but still tasty enough, and the horse took it off his palm with an eagerness that had the other horsemen snorting with laughter. Silus whistled at his pay and a half, and the soldier threw him another apple with a resigned look.
‘They think I’m soft on the horses, and in truth they’re right, but how can any man resist that?’ The animal was nudging at Marcus with its snout, nostrils flaring at the prospect of another treat, and the decurion held out the apple before standing back for a proper look at his comrade’s new mount. ‘She’s nothing fancy, not a looker, but I’ll bet you good money that beast will run all day and get by on a few mouthfuls of grass when she has to. What will you call her, since the previous owner didn’t have time to discuss the finer details?’
Marcus laughed, staggering backwards slightly as the horse nudged him again, and held out the apple in surrender.
‘Here, take it before you tread on my foot.’ He grinned ruefully at Silus, nodding at the decurion’s knowing look. ‘Her name? I’m tempted to call her “Gobbler”, but that would hardly be fitting for an animal bred for war. Let’s see how she works out before saddling her with anything premature. .’
Both men turned to look back down the road as a horn blared distantly, watching as the Tungrian cohort’s leading century came into view around the shoulder of the mountain looming over them to the west. Silus turned to his men, barking orders.
‘Get into the trees and gather firewood. Once the grunts have staggered past us we’ll put poor old Bonehead to the torch, as much to spare his dignity as for the protection of any animal that decides to dine on his body.’ He raised an eyebrow at Marcus. ‘And you, Centurion Two Knives, had better go and meet with your superiors and warn them that we’re marching into a fight.’
First Spear Julius looked with professional dismay at the scene before him as his leading century crested the road’s last ridge, and came into view of the mining settlement they had been sent to protect. After a moment he shook his head at the sight opening up before him, an apparently disorganised sprawl of buildings that littered the valley floor as if some distracted god had flung a straggling handful of settlements to earth with no care as to where they fell. The valley ran east for another mile or so before the mountain that reared up at its far end closed it off like the bowl of a gigantic amphitheatre. His superior officer, a tall man with a wiry build that had initially deceived the Tungrians into believing he was unsuited to combat, laughed at the look of disgust on his senior centurion’s face.
‘So this is the Ravenstone valley, eh? Not up to much, is it Julius? I know what you’re thinking — is this why we were sent up here from Apulum without so much as time for a cup of wine in the officers’ mess?’
Julius had not yet got over the indifference with which the Thirteenth Legion’s broad stripe tribune had treated them at the Apulum fortress’s gate. He’d passed on his legatus’s orders for the three-cohort-strong detachment to march on into the mountains with the disdain of a patrician ordering a slave to clean out his toilet, and had allowed them no more of a pause in their march than had been required for a cohort of disgruntled Thracian archers to be chivvied out of their barracks and tagged on to the column.
‘You know what they say, Julius? If you can’t take a joke then you shouldn’t have joined up.’ Tribune Scaurus smiled at the dismay on the other man’s face as Julius found himself on the butt end of one of his own favourite jibes. ‘So, disappointed with what you see, are you, First Spear? Afraid you won’t find enough drinking dens and whorehouses for your liking, or had you forgotten that you’ve a woman to keep you away from all those distractions now?’
The senior centurion shook his head without losing the look of disgust as he took in the scattered buildings spread across the valley before them.
‘It’s not that, Tribune. Annia would have my balls off with a blunt and rusty spoon if I even considered such a thing. Although now that you mention it, given that we’ve been on the road for the best part of three months, the men are going up the wall for the want of some entertainment. No, what’s bothering me is the lack of defensive preparation.’
The tribune nodded, his eyes roaming the scene unfolding before them as they marched up the valley with professional interest.
‘Agreed. So what would you make our priorities, if you were my colleague Domitius Belletor?’
Julius’s reply required little time for consideration.
‘A wall. Something tall enough to keep unfriendly tribesmen from mobbing us. That, and I’d want to be sure that I had control of the heights.’
Scaurus nodded his agreement and then raised a hand to point at a figure advancing down the road towards them, the man’s legion uniform complemented by a staff held in his right hand where a soldier would normally have carried a spear.
‘Ignoring the fact that an enemy warband might well keep us a good deal more occupied than we’d like, if it’s entertainment you want I suspect this gentleman may hold the answer. I suggest you stop the column so that we can find out what it is he has to say to us.’
The lone soldier marched purposefully up to the two officers and snapped off a smart salute, coming to attention with a vigour and precision that raised eyebrows among the veteran troops at Julius’s back. On closer inspection the first spear realised that the legionary’s staff was in fact a standard, albeit one of a type he’d never seen before, the shaft of a spear with a strangely ornate head that seemed to have no obvious military function.
‘Greetings Tribune, Centurion. Welcome to the Ravenstone valley, and to the mining facility of Alburnus Major.’ His blue eyes darted to both of them in turn, giving each man a swift perusal with a glance that seemed both open and calculating. ‘I am Cattanius, a soldier of the Thirteenth Gemina Legion and beneficiarius to the legion’s legatus, sent to assist with the arrival of your detachment. You are the tribune commanding this force, I presume, sir?’
Scaurus stepped forward, returning Cattanius’s salute.
‘Gaius Rutilius Scaurus, tribune commanding the First and Second Tungrian Cohorts, but not, I should point out, the commander of this detachment.’ He jerked a thumb over his shoulder at the long column of soldiers waiting under the mid-afternoon sun. ‘My colleague Domitius Belletor has overall command of our combined force. If you look down the column you will doubtless see a man on a horse coming to see what it is that has prompted this unscheduled stop. But since he will take a moment or two to reach us, perhaps we could pass that time by discussing a few topics of interest to me and my first spear here? And stand at ease man, there’s no need for ceremony.’
Cattanius relaxed a little.
‘What would you like to know, sir?’
Scaurus smiled wryly.
‘You could start by enlightening us as to why we find this precious imperial asset apparently stripped of any military presence. Surely one of the Dacian legions’ main tasks is to keep this place safe, given its critical importance to the province?’
The legionary nodded earnestly.
‘Indeed it is, Tribune. If it weren’t for the threat from the Sarmatae there would be a full cohort in the barracks, but Legatus Albinus decided to concentrate his forces-’
Scaurus raised an eyebrow.
‘Albinus?’
Cattanius nodded quickly.
‘Yes, sir. Legatus Clodius Albinus, officer commanding the Thirteenth Legion, and my beneficium.’