Simon Scarrow - When the Eagle hunts

'Officers to the front!'

Cato shifted the yoke from his shoulder and laid it beside the track and trotted after Macro, feeling a thrill of anticipation race up his spine.

As soon as all his centurions and optios were present Hortensius quickly outlined the situation.

'Noviomagus has been attacked. What's left of it is just over that hill.' He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. 'The scouts say they can't see any movement, so it looks like there're no survivors.'

Cato glanced at Diomedes, standing aside from the Roman officers, and saw the Greek guide staring at his feet, a deep frown on his forehead. His jaw suddenly clenched tightly and Cato realised the man was close to tears. With a mixture of compassion and embarrassment at witnessing the private grief of another, he turned his eyes back to Hortensius as the cohort commander gave his orders.

'The cohort will form a line just below the crest of the hill, we'll advance over the crest and down the far slope towards the settlement. I'll give the order to halt a short distance from Noviomagus and then the Sixth Century will enter the settlement.' He turnedowards Macro. 'Just give it a once-over and then make your report:'

'Yes, sir.'

'It'll be dark soon, lads. We haven't time to construct a marching camp so we'll have to repair the settlement's defences as best we can, and camp there for the night. Right then, let's get to it.'

The officers returned to their centuries and called their men to attention. Once the lines of men were formally dressed, Hortensius bellowed out the command to form line.

The First Century faced right, then smoothly pivoted round to form a line two men deep. The following centuries followed suit and extended the line to the left. Macro's century was the last to move into position and he called a halt as soon as his right flank marker came abreast of the Fifth Century. The cohort was held still for a moment to steady the men, and then the order was given to advance.

The double ranks rippled up the gentle slope and over the crest. Before them in the distance stretched the sea, grey and unsettled. Closer in wasa large natural harbour, from which a wide channel led inland to where the settlement had stood. The surface of the channel was made choppy by a chilly breeze. There were no hips at anchor, and only a handful of small craft were drawn up on the shore. Every man was tense in anticipation'of what the far side of the hill would reveal and as the ground started to slope down, the remains of Noviomagus came into sight.

The raiders had been as thorough in their destruction as time had allowed. Only the stark blackened lines of the surviving timber frames showed where the huts and houses of the settlement had stood. Around them lay the charred remnants of the walls and thatched roofs. Much of the surrounding palisade had been torn up and hurled into the ditch below. The lack of any smoke indicated that some days had passed since the Durotriges had razed the place to the ground. Nothing moved amongst the ruins, not even an animal. The silence was broken only by the raw cries of ravens nesting in a nearby copse. On either flank of the cohort the cavalry scouts fanned out, searching for any sign of the enemy.

The chinking of the legionaries' equipment seemed unnaturally loud to Cato as he marched down towards the settlement. While concentrating on keeping in step with the others, no mean feat with his lanky gait, his eyes swept over the land surrounding Noviomagus, searching for any sign that this might be a trap. In the failing light the cold winter landscape was filled with gloomy shadows and he tightened his grip on the handle of his shield.

'Halt!' Hortensius had to strain his voice to be clearly heard above the wind. The double line drew up, and stood still for a beat before-the next order was called out. 'Down packs!'

The legionaries lowered the yokes to the ground and stepped forward five paces to stand well clear of their marching equipment. Now their fight hands held only a javelin, and they were ready to fight.

'Sixth Century, advance!'

'Advance!' Macro relayed the order, and his men marched out of the line, approaching tha settlement from an oblique angle. Cato felt his heart quicken as they neared the blackened ruins, and a flighty ripple of nervous energy flowed through his body as he prepared himself for any sudden encounter. Just beyond the ditch, Macro halted the century.

'Cato!'

'Yes, sir!'

'You take the first five sections and enter through the main gate. I'll take the rest and enter from the seaward side.

See you in the centre of the settlement,'

'Yes, sir,' Cato replied, and a sudden chill of fear caused him to add, 'Be careful, sir.'

Macro paused, and looked at him scornfully. 'I'll try not to twist my ankle, Optio. This place is as still as a grave. The only thing left moving in there will be the spirits of the dead. Now get moving.'

Cato saluted, and turned back towards the ranks of legionaries. 'First five sections! Follow me!'

Without a pause he strodeup towards what was left of the main gate, his men hurrying to keep up. A rutted track led gently up to the huge timbers that formed the main gate and the fortified walkway,thht had once protected the entrance. But now the gates had gone, savagely cut from their rope hinges and smashed into pieces. Cato picked his way over the splintered fragments. On either side, the defensive ditches curved out round the low rampart and smashed palisade. The legionaries followed silently, eyes and ears straining for any sign of danger in the tense atmosphere that enveloped them.

On the other side of the ruined gateway the full extent of. the Durotriges' destruction was evident. The place was littered with smashed pots, shredded clothing and the debris of all that had made up the worldy possessions of the people who had lived here. As the men Tanned out on either side of him, Cato looked around and was surprised to see no sign of any bodies; not even the remains of animals. Apart from small eddies of ash disturbed by the breeze, nothing moved in the eerie silence.

'Spread out!' ordered Cato, turning back to his men.

'Search thoroughly. We're looking for any survivors. Report back to me once we reach the centre of the settlement!'

Weapons at the ready, the legionaries cautiously picked their way through the destroyed buildings, using the points of their javelins to test any mounds of debris. Cato watched their progress for a moment before slowly walking up the ash-strewn route that led from the gateway towards the heart of Noviomagus. The lack of bodies disturbed him. He had braced himself for the horrors he might see, and the absence of any sign of the people and beasts who had lived here was almost worse, for his imagination took over and filled him with a terrible foreboding. He cursed himself angrily. It was possible that the raiders had surprised the settlement, taken it without a fight, and carried offthe people and their beasts as booty. It was the most likely answer, he assured himself.

'Optio!' A voice called out close by. 'Over here!'

Cato ran towards the voice. Near the remains of a stone animal pen the legionary was standing by a large pit, covered with a hide cover. He had drawn back one side and was pointing down with his javelin.

'There, sir. Have a look at this.'

Cato joined him and looked into the pit. It was ten feet or so across and as deep as a man. The earth along the edges was loose. In the gloom he saw a pile of dried haunches of meat, scores of grain baskets, some Greek silverware and a few small chests. It was clear that the pit had been dug recently, no doubt to store the spoils the raiders had selected.

They had covered the pit with the tarpaulin to keep wild animals out. Cato slipped offhis shield and lowered himself down by the chests. He flipped open the lid of the nearest one. Inside he found a selection of Celtic ornaments fashioned from silver and bronze. He picked up a mirror and flipped it over, admiring the fine workmanship of the spiralling patterns on the reverse. He placed it back in the chest and took in the assorted torcs, necklaces, cups and other vessels, all of the highest craftsmanship. Little of this would have been used by the inhabitants of Noviomagus. It would have been gained frOm trade with native tribes and stockpiled during the winter before it was shipped to Gaul where a high price could be fetched by agents of dealers in Rome. Now the Durotriges had seized and hidden it, no doubt intending to pick it up on their way back from raiding deep into the territory of the'Atrebates.