Simon Scarrow - Britannia

Cato stifled a bitter laugh. ‘Fortunate? Macro and I had no say in it. We were forced to do his bidding and he put us in the way of danger time and again.’

‘Nothing you aren’t used to. After all, you are a soldier.’

‘Yes, sir. And while I am prepared to sacrifice my life for Rome, I am not prepared to lay down my life for that reptile Narcissus.’

‘A fine, laudable principle. But like so many principles, it is utterly divorced from the reality we so frequently find ourselves in, nay? Besides, it is better to have a snake like Narcissus at your side than at your throat. Only a fool would believe otherwise, and you are no fool.’ Quintatus raised his cup to Cato, then drained it before setting it down sharply. ‘So let me share my thinking with you. There is an opportunity before me. The new governor will not reach Britannia for some months. Time enough for me to strike at our enemy and crush them once and for all. It is my intention to destroy the Deceanglians, and to take the island of Mona and wipe the Druids out. With them off the scene, there will be no one left to co-ordinate resistance between the tribes. I will force these barbarians to submit. The victory will be mine. And since I am due to be recalled to Rome next year, it would be very useful to have a successful campaign behind me. Assuming that Nero succeeds his adoptive father, and Pallas remains the power behind the throne, then my star looks set to rise. Now, like all powerful men, I need followers I can depend on. Capable men, with a good record and underhand skills and experience to match. You are such a man. And so is your friend Macro. I would be honoured to count you amongst my supporters.’

‘I’m sure you would.’

Quintatus froze for an instant and then continued in a quiet, menacing tone. ‘Prefect, before you adopt that sanctimonious posture, let me remind you of the realities. It is almost certain that Narcissus will be one of the first to be proscribed when Nero comes to power. I know Pallas well, and he will ensure that Narcissus’s followers are eliminated along with their master.’

‘I am not his follower.’

‘You may believe that, but it makes no difference to the way Pallas regards you. To him, you and Macro are merely details. He will not pause to consider the rights and wrongs of it. Your names will go down on his list, and in due course a warrant will be sent to Britannia authorising your arrest and execution. And that will be the end of it. Although not quite. You have a wife, I believe. If you are condemned as a traitor, then your estate will be confiscated. Your wife will be left with nothing. Think on that.’

He waited a moment to let his words sink in before continuing more reasonably. ‘However, if you were my men, then I would vouch for you. I would ensure that Pallas knows that you no longer serve Narcissus and that you can be relied on to be loyal to me, and by extension Pallas and Nero. Of course, it would strengthen your cause immeasurably if you went one step further . . .’

Cato understood the implication. ‘And feigned loyalty to Narcissus while helping you and Pallas destroy him?’

‘Why not? Like you said, the man is a reptile. He has put your life at risk. You owe him nothing.’

‘And I owe nothing to Pallas or you either, sir.’

The legate laughed. ‘You say that now. In a year, two years, things will be very different, and then you will be grateful for my protection. Not just for you and Macro, but for your family too.’

Cato felt his guts twist with anxiety. ‘Are you threatening my family?’

‘On the contrary, I am offering to protect them. Sadly, those we love and make sacrifices for tend to become our Achilles’ heel. If you want to control a man, then you must first control his fears. I take no pleasure in saying that. As I said, I am just pointing out the truth of the situation. Only you can choose what to do about it.’

‘There is no choice,’ Cato said quietly, fighting to control his temper. ‘Is there?’

Quintatus shook his head gently. ‘I am afraid not. If it comes as any comfort to you, my own family are under the scrutiny of Pallas. He came to me once, as I do to you, and made the same offer, and the same threat, and I have been condemned to do his bidding ever since. That was ten years ago. While Pallas was still slithering his way up the greasy pole.’

‘But you chose not to carry out his orders to ensure we were eliminated.’

‘You think so? I sent you to what I thought would be certain death at Bruccium. Yet you won through, against the odds. For that I admire you. It would be unfortunate to have you eliminated unnecessarily . . . Come now, Cato. You understand the situation. Surely you can see there is no alternative. No painless one, at least.’

‘I can see that,’ Cato admitted.

‘I understand your despondency. But you will get over it. The lack of any real choice will see to that. All that remains is to adapt and survive. After all, isn’t that what life teaches us?’

He waited for a reply, but Cato was too angry and bitter to trust himself with any remark. He wanted to refute the argument being put to him. He wanted desperately to stand on principle and defy the will of powerful men who decided the fates of others. He earnestly longed for a world in which honour, honesty and achievement counted for more than guile, avarice and ambition. Yet here was the proof that his longing was mere wishful thinking. Despite all he had accomplished, every battle he had fought in and won, every promotion he had earned, he lived on the whim of men like Narcissus and Pallas. They were not even proper Romans. Merely freedmen who had learned how to play their former master like a cheap flute. Worse still was Cato’s awareness of his vulnerability to their machinations thanks to his marriage to Julia. And their child too, in due course, would become an unwitting hostage in the deadly game of political intrigue that those inside the imperial palace played as instinctively as other men drew breath.

He sighed.

‘It is clear that you see reason,’ Quintatus observed sympathetically. ‘That is good. No man should choose to die for lack of reason. I will leave you now. You will need time to consider all that I have said, and accept it. We’ll talk again when you are ready. I thank you for the wine.’

He stood up, and Cato followed suit. The informality of a moment earlier vanished and the legate was once again his commanding officer, brusque and demanding.

‘Your replacements will reach the fort the day after next. When they arrive, you will march your column out immediately and make for Mediolanum. There you will join the Fourteenth Legion, a vexillation from the Twentieth and the other auxiliary cohorts assigned to the campaign. As I will be in overall command Valens will assume control of the Fourteenth while Camp Prefect Silanus takes charge of the Twentieth. It is my intention to commence the operation in five days’ time. We will enter the mountains, burn to the ground every enemy settlement we find, locate and destroy their forces and eliminate every living thing we encounter. Thereafter we shall do the same on Mona. By the time the new governor takes over the province, there will be order. There will be no one left to challenge Rome’s supremacy. More to the point, there will be no conquest for Ostorius’s replacement to claim credit for. That will belong to me, and those who follow me. Is that understood, Prefect Cato?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Then we have nothing more to say. I shall see you at Mediolanum.’

‘Hmm, they don’t look up to much,’ Macro grumbled as he surveyed the small column of men entering the fort. ‘As miserable a bunch of miscreants as I have ever seen. Bloody Eighth Illyrian aren’t even fit to scrub out the latrines. The gods know what use they’ll be if the enemy have a go at us while you’re gone.’