Thunder of the Gods by Anthony Riches Page A

centurion are approved by a committee of centurions. Cotta may well have done his time wielding a vine stick, but he left the Gauls ten years ago, and under a cloud of suspicion to do with the death of an emperor. An
emperor
, Legatus. Under the circumstances I don’t think that the centurions will—’
    Scaurus shook his head, his eyes narrowing with anger, raising a finger to forestall any further complaint.
    ‘Two points, First Spear. Firstly, the
emperor
you’re talking about was no more an emperor than you are. This legion acclaimed Gaius Avidius Cassius as ruler for the simple reason that the officers of the day expected to be handsomely rewarded for their loyalty. In removing Cassius’s threat to the legitimate emperor, Centurion Cotta did no more than was his duty, and he did it under the command of a tribune who had been placed in his role by Marcus Aurelius himself, and for precisely that purpose. A wise emperor knows where threats to his rule will come from, and positions the right men in the right places to deal with them as required. And Marcus Aurelius was no fool.
    ‘Furthermore, First Spear, Cotta’s
suspected
role in Cassius’s death will remain no more than suspicion, if you’re still keen to be carrying your vine stick for the rest of your career.’
    He stared at Quintinus for a moment before continuing. ‘And secondly, First Spear, to whom exactly do you imagine that this legion belongs? To you and your brother officers, or to the people and the senate of Rome?’
    Quintinus looked at his superior for a moment before replying.
    ‘To the people and the senate of Rome, Legatus.’
    Scaurus nodded.
    ‘Exactly, First Spear. The people’s will is enacted by the senate, among whom the emperor is
primus inter pares
, First Spear, very much the first among equals. And when the emperor awarded me the singular privilege of commanding this legion, he made no mention of having to run any of my decisions past
committees of centurions
!’
    He spat the words out with a vehemence that made the first spear flinch minutely despite his attempt at portraying iron self-control.
    ‘Centurion Cotta is an experienced officer who, as you know all too well, has seen combat on numerous occasions in the course of his career. On top of which, he’s already commanded men of this legion, and in consequence he will be of great value to me as I get to grips with my new command. If you and your fellow centurions have any complaint with that decision I will be happy to hear that concern, and any recommendations
you may have for me, in due course and in the time-honoured manner. I will not, to be very clear, be setting any store by an informal and highly irregular decision-making process that only serves to illustrate the sort of man my predecessor here seems to have been.’
    He looked about him, staring with apparent curiosity at the rows of barrack buildings on either side of the street that ran to the headquarters building.
    ‘Now, to business. How many men do you have here in Antioch?’
    Quintinus opened the tablet that had been sitting in his left hand.
    ‘Nine cohorts, Legatus. We’ve a large number of men on leave and on detached duties of various sorts, but this is the heart of the Third Gallic, with two thousand, nine hundred and sixty-four men available for duty.’
    ‘
Nine
cohorts, First Spear?’
    Quintinus turned to Marcus, who had stepped forward alongside Scaurus with a look of incomprehension.
    ‘Yes Tribune …’
    ‘My name is Corvus. Marcus Tribulus Corvus. Where is the tenth cohort?’
    Quintinus looked at Marcus for a moment before answering, a shadow of pain creasing his face.
    ‘We lost the Sixth on the other side of the Euphrates months ago, Tribune. They were killed to the last man, except for a few local scouts and a tribune who managed to evade the Parthians to bring the story of their deaths back.’
    The younger man frowned.
    ‘He ran, rather than facing the enemy with his