for the next two months in the wrong direction to provide them with more spears. I asked about the chances of being transported by river, but apparently the fleet is tied up watching the northern bank of the Rhenus in case the German tribes choose to take the opportunity to renew their attack on the province.’
Julius had grimaced, shaking his head in dismay.
‘The men won’t be happy marching east.’
Scaurus had laughed sardonically.
‘What, they won’t like not going home? Wait until they’ve endured a few weeks of Belletor’s leadership! He is, as the legatus took great pleasure in telling him in my presence, to keep me on a “very tight rope indeed”. If I show any signs of failing to accept my situation with the appropriate deference to his rank, he is authorised and indeed encouraged to replace me with a young man of equally good family who is to come along for the ride. Lucius Carius Sigilis, another young tribune from the senatorial class, still wet behind the ears and already driving the senior centurions to distraction, I expect. It’s an opportunity for the legatus to rid himself of a pair of daddy’s boys who are no practical use to him, and to gain favour with their fathers for giving them their chance for glory and advancement. If I don’t like it then Belletor can remove me from command and send me home with a snap of his fingers, put this boy soldier in my place and, of course, impose a pair of new first spears from his own cohort on our soldiers, just to make sure they do what they’re told. I’d imagine the only thing that will stop him from doing so the moment we’re out of camp will be the sweet anticipation of my humiliation, and after that my happy acceptance of whatever indignity he chooses to throw at me. And if I go, First Spear, then you’ll find yourself back in command of a century with a legion man in control of the cohort. If you or any other of our officers make their feelings on the subject clear then the outcome’s likely to be your dismissal from the service on whatever charge of misconduct Belletor feels like inventing for the purpose, without either citizenship or pension. So we’re all going to have to learn to bite our tongues and wait for the big wheel to turn, aren’t we? Just make sure that your officers are perfectly clear on my expectation that we can all display sufficient maturity to see this temporary inconvenience through . . .’
In the event, Scaurus’s good reputation with his officers and men had resulted in a conspiracy of silence across both of the cohorts under his command, and the soldiers had contented themselves with bringing a particular gusto to those of their marching songs with any relevance to the legionaries marching alongside them. Julius walked to the door, cup in hand, and looked out at the toiling soldiers for a moment before turning back to his tribune with a shrug.
‘If it’s of any consolation, Tribune, my colleague Sergius is as embarrassed as ever at being told to sit on his hands while we do all the work.’
Scaurus nodded his understanding.
‘I can imagine. But any soldier sharp enough to reach the rank of first spear in a legion cohort knows very well when to keep his mouth shut. He’s of far more value to us as a friend in Belletor’s camp than for any brief excitement he might whip up by protesting our case. And in any case, I think the worst part of our ordeal is over. Now that we don’t have to dig out a marching camp every night we can get back to some real soldiering. There’s a decent fight waiting for us somewhere out there, and I don’t intend for my men to be found wanting.’
Marcus walked wearily into the Fifth Century’s lines as the sun was falling toward the western horizon, finding Arminius and Morban’s grandson Lupus waiting for him outside his tent, the child still wet with the sweat of his evening lesson with sword and shield. The big German got to his feet and pointed to the tent’s
Julius had grimaced, shaking his head in dismay.
‘The men won’t be happy marching east.’
Scaurus had laughed sardonically.
‘What, they won’t like not going home? Wait until they’ve endured a few weeks of Belletor’s leadership! He is, as the legatus took great pleasure in telling him in my presence, to keep me on a “very tight rope indeed”. If I show any signs of failing to accept my situation with the appropriate deference to his rank, he is authorised and indeed encouraged to replace me with a young man of equally good family who is to come along for the ride. Lucius Carius Sigilis, another young tribune from the senatorial class, still wet behind the ears and already driving the senior centurions to distraction, I expect. It’s an opportunity for the legatus to rid himself of a pair of daddy’s boys who are no practical use to him, and to gain favour with their fathers for giving them their chance for glory and advancement. If I don’t like it then Belletor can remove me from command and send me home with a snap of his fingers, put this boy soldier in my place and, of course, impose a pair of new first spears from his own cohort on our soldiers, just to make sure they do what they’re told. I’d imagine the only thing that will stop him from doing so the moment we’re out of camp will be the sweet anticipation of my humiliation, and after that my happy acceptance of whatever indignity he chooses to throw at me. And if I go, First Spear, then you’ll find yourself back in command of a century with a legion man in control of the cohort. If you or any other of our officers make their feelings on the subject clear then the outcome’s likely to be your dismissal from the service on whatever charge of misconduct Belletor feels like inventing for the purpose, without either citizenship or pension. So we’re all going to have to learn to bite our tongues and wait for the big wheel to turn, aren’t we? Just make sure that your officers are perfectly clear on my expectation that we can all display sufficient maturity to see this temporary inconvenience through . . .’
In the event, Scaurus’s good reputation with his officers and men had resulted in a conspiracy of silence across both of the cohorts under his command, and the soldiers had contented themselves with bringing a particular gusto to those of their marching songs with any relevance to the legionaries marching alongside them. Julius walked to the door, cup in hand, and looked out at the toiling soldiers for a moment before turning back to his tribune with a shrug.
‘If it’s of any consolation, Tribune, my colleague Sergius is as embarrassed as ever at being told to sit on his hands while we do all the work.’
Scaurus nodded his understanding.
‘I can imagine. But any soldier sharp enough to reach the rank of first spear in a legion cohort knows very well when to keep his mouth shut. He’s of far more value to us as a friend in Belletor’s camp than for any brief excitement he might whip up by protesting our case. And in any case, I think the worst part of our ordeal is over. Now that we don’t have to dig out a marching camp every night we can get back to some real soldiering. There’s a decent fight waiting for us somewhere out there, and I don’t intend for my men to be found wanting.’
Marcus walked wearily into the Fifth Century’s lines as the sun was falling toward the western horizon, finding Arminius and Morban’s grandson Lupus waiting for him outside his tent, the child still wet with the sweat of his evening lesson with sword and shield. The big German got to his feet and pointed to the tent’s
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