General Plautius considered the proposal for a moment. ‘I don’t like it. I can’t risk any botched rescue attempt by a handful of men in the middle of enemy territory. That’s more likely to lead to my family being killed than anything else.’

‘No, sir,’ Vespasian countered firmly. ‘I’d say it’s the best chance we have. If your Briton really knows the lie of the land and its people, we stand a good chance of finding the hostages before the enemy is alerted to the Second’s advance.’

Plautius frowned. ‘Your best chance has just been downgraded to a good chance.’

‘Better than little or no chance, sir.’

‘Did you have anyone in mind for this mission?’

‘No, sir,’ Vespasian admitted. ‘Haven’t thought that far ahead. But we’d need some men with plenty of initiative. They’d have to be resourceful, good in a fight — if it came down to it…’

Plautius looked up. ‘What about that centurion you sent to retrieve Caesar’s pay chest, just after we landed? Him and that optio of his. Did a pretty good job, as I recall.’

‘Yes, they did,’ mused Vespasian. ‘A very good job indeed…’

When The Eagle Hunts

Chapter Nineteen

‘Come on, you dozy beauties!’ roared Centurion Hortensius as he stuck his head into Macro’s tent. Macro was fast asleep on his camp bed, snoring with a deep bass rumble. To one side Cato slumped over a desk where he had been compiling the Sixth Century’s strength return when the irresistible need for rest had finally overwhelmed him. Outside, in the century’s line of tents, the men were also fast asleep, and so it was with the rest of the Fourth Cohort. Except Senior Centurion Hortensius. After seeing to the injured and giving orders that a hot meal be prepared for the cohort, he had gone to make his report.

To find himself in the presence of not only the legate but also the commander of all the Roman forces in Britain was something of a surprise. Tired as Hortensius was, he stood to attention and stared rigidly ahead as he outlined the short history of the Fourth Cohort’s patrol. Giving the bare details, without embellishment, Hortensius delivered his report with the formal tonelessness of a long-serving professional. He answered their questions in the same style. As the debriefing proceeded, Hortensius became aware that the general seemed to want far more from his answers than he could possibly provide. The man seemed to be obsessive about even the smallest details concerning the Druids, and was horrified when told of Diomedes’s slaughter of the Druid prisoners.

‘He killed all of them?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘What did you do with the bodies?’ asked Vespasian.

‘Dumped them in the well, sir, then filled it in. Didn’t want to give their mates any further excuse to give us a hard time.’