‘Just some,’ Macer said after waiting a long time for a fuller answer. Every unit had its unpopular officers, the tyrants, the floggers, the extortioners and the ones who preyed on the soldiers’ women, or worse yet, their children. They were rare, and it took weak or lazy superiors to let matters get out of hand. Then there were mutinies or murders, and people died, sometimes even the man or men who had caused it all in the first place. It was hard to tell, but Ferox did not strike him as that sort of officer. ‘Just some,’ he repeated.

At least the meal was nothing special. Macer was no slave to his stomach, but had come to enjoy the comforts of rank and decent wealth. However, without his even making the suggestion, his steward had provided campaign meals for his last few days with the eagles. It reminded him of when he was young, fighting those crazy, brave rebels in Judaea under Vespasian and Titus, or with the heavy scent of pine resin as they chased the Chatti through their forests.

Ferox did not seem to mind being given a bowl of thick stew, flavoured with salty bacon, along with cheap posca to drink. The fine-grained bread was a concession, but having hard tack biscuit with his meal would have been going too far. Still, they sat on camp stools on either side of a folding table in one of the side rooms – the walls were colourful, but only painted in fairly simple geometric patterns. Another luxury was the warmth. As one of the few partially stone buildings in the fort, the commander’s praetorium had its own bath suite and the rooms butting on to it were always warmed by the constantly tended furnace. That was a luxury, and one that he would never have ordered for himself. Macer had come here prostrated by fever in the last weeks before the Dacian king made peace. This had been the closest base with a big hospital, and he had spent weeks there in peril of his life and months recovering. In the meantime the legionaries had decided to build a far more comfortable house for the fort’s commander than was normal on a site like this. He took it both as a complement and a sign that they understood how the army worked. When he recovered, he was by far the most senior officer in the area, already present at a fort with such a mixed garrison, while I Minervia were scattered and there was not really a main camp for him to supervise. So the army put him in charge here, and thanks to the enthusiasm of the soldiers he had lived in as much comfort as such a bleak spot could offer. Over the months and years his health had recovered a little, and it was nice to be his own master on a day-to-day basis, rather than deferring to aristocrats, who were either lazy, stupid, or just interfered in things they did not understand. Yet the appointment also told him that there would be no offer of another post after this one. His time with the eagles was done, at least if he could bring himself in all conscience to leave, now that a replacement had arrived.