Only the sheep, cattle and a few pigs had lived through the Roman assault. These livestock were being driven down the sides of the hill towards the camp. The animals would not survive very much longer than their erstwhile owners, and the delighted legionaries would be consuming fresh roast meat once again. Vespasian was pleased to have thus supplemented his supplies. However, the legion would soon be tackling a chain of much larger forts, and once again Vespasian would be reliant on a steady flow of supplies from the depot at Calleva.

Therein lay his most pressing difficulty. With Caratacus sending fast-moving columns to raid the legion’s supply lines, Vespasian’s men might be forced to live off the land. Worse, there would be no equipment to replace material lost in battle and losses due to wear and tear. It all depended on King Verica and the Atrebatans keeping to the terms of their alliance with Rome, and guaranteeing the safe passage of supply convoys through their territory. The formation of the two cohorts at Calleva might help ease the burden, and lift some of the weight of anxiety from Vespasian’s shoulders. The legate was sure he could trust Centurion Macro with the task - and Centurion Cato, for that matter.

Vespasian smiled at the recollection of the moment he had informed the youngster of his promotion a few months earlier. Cato had been laying on a bed in the hospital at the Calleva depot. He had barely been able to blink back the tears of pride. Cato had great promise, and had justified the legate’s estimation of his worth time and again. It would be interesting to see how the young man was coping with the responsibilities of his new rank, Vespasian mused. He was not quite in his twentieth year, and once Cato rejoined the Second Legion he faced one of the most daunting experiences a man could ever have in taking charge of the eighty legionaries of his first command.

Vespasian could clearly recall the painful self-consciousness with which he addressed the small patrol he had led when appointed a tribune nearly fourteen years ago. The grim veterans had listened to his introduction without comment but made no secret of their disdain for his lack of experience. At least Cato had that to bolster up his self-confidence. In the short time he had served with the Eagles Cato had already seen more combat than many legionaries did in a lifetime. And the youngster had been fortunate enough to be broken into his army life by Centurion Macro. Macro was as tough and reliable as Cato was intelligent and resourceful; the two complemented each other well.