‘No.’

So the Legion was to be moved in the near future then. The order restricting personal holdings of coinage was to limit the marching load of a legionary, and all non-portable goods would be inventoried for storage or sale. If the latter, then the Legion’s transfer was likely to be long term. Interesting. But then, Macro considered, it was likely that the wounded would have to travel in carts and the prospect of the uncomfortable bumps and jolts that that implied filled him with dread. Marching might be tiring, but it was all good exercise and far more comfortable than jolting around on the flat bed of a legionary transport wagon.

‘Any word on where we’re being sent?’

‘Nothing official, sir, but I’ve heard rumours that we’re going to join an army being assembled to invade Britain.’

‘Britain! What emperor in his right mind would want to add that dump to the Empire? Wild, savage and filled with bogs — if what I hear is true. Britain! That’s ridiculous.’

‘That’s what I heard,’ Cato said defensively. ‘And in any case, what emperor is in his right mind these days?’

‘Fair point!’ Macro lightened up. ‘Look, all this admin you’re complaining about. It’s what running a century is all about. You’re just going to have to cope with it, or get Piso to.’

‘It’s not really the paperwork that’s getting me down, sir,’ Cato said uncomfortably.

‘What is it then?’

‘Well, it’s the command side of things. I just can’t seem to carry off the business of giving people orders.’

‘What do you mean?’

Cato shuffled his feet, shamefaced, as he attempted to formulate the problem. ‘I know I’m an optio and that means the men have to obey me, but that doesn’t mean that they take kindly to having a — well, if I’m honest — a kid telling them what to do. It’s not that they don’t obey me, they do. Nobody’s calling me a coward any more, but they haven’t got much respect for me.’

‘I’m sure they haven’t. It doesn’t come automatically — it has to be earned. It’s the same for every new officer. The men will obey because they are accustomed to. The trick is to get them to obey willingly and to do that you need to earn their trust. Then they’ll respect you.’

‘But how do I do that, sir?’

‘You stop whining for a start. Then you begin to act like an optio.’

‘I can’t, sir.’

‘What do you mean can’t? Can! Fucking will!’ Macro propped himself up on his elbows, wincing as he shifted his leg to a more comfortable position.

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Now then, put some more wood on that fire — some dry stuff — before the bloody thing goes out. And shut the window.’

‘Are you sure, sir? Fresh air’s supposed to speed recovery.’

‘Maybe air that’s not quite so fresh. The only thing that window’s speeding is exposure, so shut it now.’

‘Yes, sir.’ Cato quickly obeyed the order and then carefully selected the driest wood he could find for the brazier.