Severus shot him a quick look. ‘You think so? I doubt that Quertus is going to hand over control of the garrison that easily.’

‘He has no choice. Chain of command.’

Severus laughed bitterly. ‘I think you’ll find that things operate a little differently at Bruccium.’ He changed the subject. ‘So what happened to the rest of the lads in the section after I left the Augusta?’

Macro scratched his jaw as he recalled their old comrades. ‘Postumus was drowned when his boat capsized on a river patrol. Lucullus was bitten by a hunting dog. The wound went bad and killed him. Barco, the big bastard, you remember? He got picked for the legate’s bodyguard, then caught the eye of Caligula and was transferred to the Praetorian Guard. Last I heard he’d got a promotion to centurion in the fleet at Misenum. Aculeus became a clerk at headquarters and was discharged for fiddling the books. Piso was killed in a skirmish with some Germans who had refused to cough up their taxes, and Marius, well, you’ll find this one hard to believe: Marius was kicked to death by a mule.’

They both laughed before Severus looked at his companion curiously. ‘I heard something about your promotion to centurion. I gather you were summoned to Rome to be decorated and promoted by Claudius himself.’

‘Yes,’ Macro replied quickly. ‘Just a bit of a ceremony, a few months’ leave in the city and back to the Rhine.’

‘Oh.’ Severus looked disappointed. ‘I heard rumours there was more to it than that.’

‘So how did you end up here?’ Macro clumsily redirected the conversation. ‘Bruccium, the absolute arse end of the empire.’

Severus shrugged. ‘You go where you are sent. Ostorius is determined to push on and crush the last centre of resistance to Rome. So he’s been constructing a number of big forts like this, strong enough to hold off any attacks and with enough men to make life difficult for the surrounding tribes. The forts are out on a limb, but that was a risk the governor was prepared to take, with our lives.’

Macro glanced round. ‘Some forts are more out on a limb than others.’

‘Tell me about it.’

‘I was rather hoping you’d tell me.’

Severus said quietly, ‘Not out here.’

He raised his hand and pointed out the end of a barrack block twenty paces ahead. ‘That’s mine. Home to the Second Century, Fourth Cohort, Fourteenth Legion. Or what’s left of my century. The cohort commander’s quarters are there at the end of the street.’

‘Who is the ranking centurion at the moment?’

‘That would be me. It should be Stellanus but he’s gone over to the Thracians. As it is, only Petillius and I are left. And we’ve barely enough men to fill out the ranks of two centuries.’