The optio folded the scroll and handed it back to Cato. ‘Escort these two beggars to headquarters. Centurion Sinius is in charge of recruiting, training and transfers. Take them to him.’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Off you go, lads. Oh, and welcome to the Praetorian Guard. You’ll find it somewhat different to life in the legions.’
‘Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.’ Cato nodded.
They shouldered their yokes once again and followed the Praetorian out of the guardhouse and into the shelter of the arched gateway. He waited until they had their yokes comfortably positioned and then set off down the wide avenue leading into the heart of the Praetorian camp. On either side were two-storey barracks which ran back from each side of the route for a hundred paces. The plaster covering the walls was clean and looked to have been painted recently. In the same way the paved road had no litter and was obviously swept regularly.
‘Your run a tidy camp,’ said Macro.
‘Oh, that’s down to Geta,’ the young Praetorian replied. ‘He’s a stickler for high standards. Keeps us on our toes all right. Surprise barrack inspections, calls to arms in the middle of the night and regular kit checks are the order of the day here, mate. Don’t know what things are like in the legions, but you’d best play it his way when you’re here in Rome, or else.’
Cato looked at the youth. ‘I take it you weren’t transferred from a legion.’
‘Me? No. Many of the lads are recruited from central Italia. What with all the perks of the job it ain’t easy getting in, but a letter of commendation from a local magistrate usually swings it. Unfortunately I was a few years too late to qualify for the donative the Emperor handed out when he took power. Five years’ pay, that’s what he gave each man! Bloody fortune. Still, Claudius ain’t going to last forever and whoever comes next will have to cough up again, if they know what’s good for them.’
Macro coughed. ‘Your loyalty to the Emperor is most touching.’
The Praetorian glanced at him with a quizzical expression and then smiled when he realised that Macro was mocking him. ‘I’m loyal enough. Without an emperor to protect, where would the Praetorian Guard be? Disbanded and sent to join the legions, that’s where. On half of the pay, stuck in some forsaken frontier outpost surrounded by barbarians waiting to cut your throat at the first opportunity. Not much of a life.’ He paused and looked at the other men closely. ‘No offence meant.’
‘None taken,’ Cato replied lightly. ‘Tell me, are all the Praetorians as cynical as you? No offence either, but you strike me as, well, a bit mercenary.’