‘How often is the fort resupplied, sir?’

‘It isn’t.’

Cato frowned. ‘How is that, sir? Surely they have to be supplied. There must be several hundred men at Bruccium. Not to mention the horses.’

Quintatus shrugged. ‘The first few convoys got through. Heavily escorted. Then the Silurians got stuck in and we couldn’t get any more to the garrison. I sent word to Quertus that he had permission to fall back before his supplies ran out. He replied that he and his men would live off the land. That was his last word on the subject, so he must have found a way.’

‘That’s hard to believe, sir,’ said Macro. ‘He’s surrounded by the enemy. Surely they could starve him out if they put their minds to it.’

‘Well they haven’t, as far as I know. However Quertus keeps his men going, it works. You’ll see for yourselves once you reach the fort. You’re going to find that there’s a lot Quertus can teach you. If you are wise, Prefect, you’ll pay heed to the man.’

The implied criticism angered Cato and he struggled not to let it show. He was a professional soldier who had served his Emperor loyally and effectively for many years. He knew damn well that it was wise to listen to his subordinates, especially one as evidently capable as Centurion Quertus. Cato swallowed his irritation. ‘Of course, sir.’

‘Good. Then you can leave at first light. I’ll assign you an escort to get you to the fort. A squadron from the legion’s mounted contingent should suffice. After you take command at Bruccium I want a more detailed report of the strength and condition of the two cohorts, as well as the progess they are making against the Silurians. That’s if it is safe to send a rider back to Glevum. Now, if you’ll excuse me, gentlemen, I am hard pressed to prepare the rest of my column for the coming campaign. Good fortune go with you.’

He gestured towards the door and Cato and Macro saluted and left the legate’s office. Outside in the corridor, as they made their way back to the courtyard to rejoin Decimus, Macro spoke quietly.

‘I’m not so sure about this Centurion Quertus. Sounds like he might cause us a bit of trouble.’

Cato thought a moment. ‘He’s playing by his own rules, that’s for sure. But, as you heard, he is hitting the enemy hard. That’s what the legate and the governor want. I just hope we can maintain the standard when I take command.’

Macro breathed in deeply. ‘Somehow, I don’t think Centurion Quertus is going to be very welcoming. He’s run the show his way for some months now. What makes you think he’ll be happy to hand over the reins to you?’

‘Because he’s a soldier and he does as he’s told.’

Macro pursed his lips. ‘I hope you’re right.’

CHAPTER TWELVE

It began to rain shortly after dawn and Glevum disappeared behind a grey veil of drizzle as the riders hunkered down inside their cloaks and urged their mounts along the track that led towards the distant line of hills. Macro and Decimus had visited the vicus the night before and shared a few jars of cheap wine in one of the simple inns. Cato had remained in headquarters, searching the records office for as much information as he could find about his new unit, and the officer temporarily in command of it. The Thracians had performed creditably in the years they had been posted to Britannia but in the last few months they had accounted for more of the enemy than they had in the previous eight years.