The guards on duty at the gate passed them into the legion’s headquarters where Cato and Macro left Decimus with the horses and mules while they went to report to the legate. Despite the pending campaign there was a calm, efficient atmosphere to the place as clerks bent over their records and carried messages to and from the senior officers. Legate Quintatus was with the Fourteenth Legion’s quartermaster as his secretary announced their arrival.

‘A moment,’ Quintatus responded curtly from behind his desk and turned his attention back to the quartermaster, who stood stiffly before him. ‘The granary should have been inspected daily. That’s your responsibility. If you had done your duty then the rats would have been driven out before they ruined a thousand modii of grain. Now it needs making up.’

‘The next grain convoy is due to reach us by the end of the month, sir. I’ll send word that we need more to replace the losses.’

Quintatus shook his head. ‘The end of the month is not good enough. I want it replaced within the next five days.’

The quartermaster’s jaw sagged. ‘But—’

‘No excuses. See to it. If you can’t cut a deal with a reserve unit, then you’ll have to buy it from the natives. Dismissed.’

The quartermaster saluted and turned to leave the room, an anxious expression on his face. Quintatus let out a frustrated sigh, then fixed his penetrating gaze on the two officers standing just inside his office. ‘Well?’

Cato made the introductions and they handed over the slates detailing their service records. The legate looked at his visitors curiously for a moment before he read their records and nodded his satisfaction. ‘Glad to see you’ve served here before. And plenty of combat experience besides, though there are one or two gaps in the record.’

‘We were waiting for reassignment, sir,’ Cato replied. ‘On half pay in Rome.’

‘A waste of your talents. Sitting on your hands while some fat-arsed imperial clerk takes his time finding you a new job. Bloody bureaucrats, eh?’ A sympathetic smile flickered on his lips and then it was gone. ‘Now you’re here. No doubt itching to take up your posts and get stuck into the enemy.’

Macro grinned. ‘You’re reading my mind, sir.’

‘If that’s what you weren’t thinking then you’re no use to me. I won’t tolerate anyone who doesn’t pull their weight, gentlemen. No matter what their rank. We’re up against tough opposition and I want results. Clear?’

Cato nodded. ‘Yes, sir.’