Jack Whyte - The Singing Sword

As it turned out, it took the authorities three weeks to make up their minds and act. We filled in the extra two weeks by adding more and more uprights to the hillside. Some of the work parties were put to work digging up real saplings and transplanting them, so that the hillside really did begin to look like a forest coming back to life years after a great forest fire. Bushes, ripped from the earth and dragged to the hillside by horses, began to transform the place. At even less than a mile, it became very difficult to make out the lines of the tops of the walls.

In those three weeks, our colonists performed a feat that was almost magical, and they were helped by the Celts, who came in hundreds, once the word of this insanity had spread, to see for themselves what was going on. Underneath it all was an almost hysterical anticipation that it might all be for nothing. If the authorities decided not to investigate the young officer's report, we would all have broken our backs ruining a perfectly good hill!

I was at dinner with the family one night, at the beginning of the fourth week of our preparations, when Britannicus's steward interrupted us with the news that our closest signal-fire was ablaze, and that messengers had already been sent to alert the other villas of the Colony. Our people assembled at the main villa throughout that night, and by dawn the last stage of the operation was launched as everyone who was able set about the final task of cutting green branches and lashing them to our makeshift tree trunks.

Britannicus was finally up on his feet again, after having been confined to his bed for over a week with a badly sprained back, from trying to lift a tree trunk that was too heavy for him. As soon as I had seen everyone off in an orderly fashion I headed back to report to him, but as I was entering the main gates of the courtyard I heard the sound of a galloping horse, and I turned to see one of my own men, on a badly blown mount, thundering up behind me. He reined in when he saw me and jumped from the back of his almost lifeless horse. His knees gave way as he landed, so that he stumbled and I had to catch him. He was breathing almost as hard as his horse, and I had to steady him until he regained his breath.

"What is it, man? What's wrong?"

"Cavalry, Commander! Heavy cavalry." He shuddered. "Coming from Londinium. Overland. They're not on the road, and they're coming fast!"

"How fast, man? How long do we have?"

"A day, Commander. Maybe two. No more. They will be here by the morning of the day after tomorrow. We lit the fires as soon as we saw them, but then we had to pass the word from man to man by mouth. Almost killed the horses."

"How far apart were you spaced?"

"Three, four miles. Depended on the terrain. We had to be able to see the next man's fire."

My mind was racing. "How many men in your chain?"

"Thirty-nine. I'm the last of them."

"How long did it take to get the word to you?"

He shook his head. "Don't know, Commander. Some of the lads took off as soon as they had lit their fires, as they were supposed to. One fellow had to ride three posts before he found a man with a fresh horse. All of us rode flat out!"

"Damn! You did well. What's your name?"

"Septimius Severus, Commander."

"We all owe you a debt, Septimius Severus. Now get some rest. You've earned it. Where are the others?"

"All split up, Commander, as ordered."

"What about the men on the other routes? Do you know anything of them?"

"No, Commander. But the word was that as soon as the signal-fires were seen coming back towards the Colony, the other men were to send their fires out to the ends of their routes. So everyone must know by now that the game is on."

I nodded. "Good. Go and find a bed, and get some sleep. I have to get word to our workers that they only have today to finish the job. Thank God we had two extra weeks."

I hurried inside to tell Britannicus what was happening, and to get word out to our people in the fields that our visitors were fast approaching. I spent a long, wearying day worrying about the speed they were coming at, and wondering if we had enough manpower to finish the job in time. I need not have worried. Our people outdid themselves, and long before dusk they were adding the finishing touches to an amazing piece of human wizardry.

The hill was forested. The fort was gone. There was no sign of any human influence on the hill behind the villa.

None of us had any sleep that night. The commissary operated at peak capacity from dusk until dawn, and as our soldiers were provisioned they dispersed into the night to conceal themselves in the newly hidden fort. By dawn, everything that could be done had been done. Our army was dispersed or hidden and the signs of our frenzied preparations were covered and cleaned up. There was nothing to do but wait and try to behave normally.

The morning passed, and the midday changed into afternoon. Britannicus and I sat on a bench in the courtyard, sharing the warmth of the afternoon sun and doing our best to be casual, pretending that we were both at ease and contented.

We had no idea where our "guests" were, or when they would arrive. We had decided not to spy on their advance after the first sighting, reasoning that it was enough to know that they were coming. Victorex had come by late in the morning to ask us when we wanted to start moving the horses out of his breeding farm — we had quartered a large number of our workhorses there, rather than take the chance of the empty paddocks attracting attention. He had assumed that the cavalry would want to quarter their mounts there, forgetting that we were not supposed to know they were coming. He was most abashed when I pointed that out to him, but his understandable error made all of us realize how easy it would be to betray ourselves and our readiness for this visit. So, on that long afternoon we filled our waiting time with a review of everything that might, or could, go wrong.

We were aware that everything — the success or failure of our entire scheme — depended on the calibre of the man in charge of this investigation. We could anticipate that whoever he might be, he would be thorough in his inquiries, but we felt confident that, given an ounce of luck and a particle of good breeding on his part, we had a fair chance of disarming his suspicions. We were confident, too, that he would come directly to us. There was no other place on the road that he could stop. He would not be interested in towns — and there were none closer to us than Aquae Sulis, anyway. The few villages in the area were full of our own people, who would direct any strangers to us, and all of the other villas close to our own were controlled by us. Our visitor would have to come to us and deal with Caius Britannicus, Proconsul and Senator of Rome.

No one in the region would betray us, we knew, because everyone for miles around depended upon our good will and our support. If loyalty to the Empire dictated to any man jealous of our strength that he denounce us, the fear of losing our military presence and assistance would keep his agonizing within his breast. At least, that is what we hoped.

In the middle of the afternoon, Caius heard the blast of a trumpet in the distance and the sounds of a party of mounted men coming along the road leading to the main gates of the villa. He told me later that he sucked in a great, deep breath and went to meet them.

There were five in the advance party: a grey-bearded centurion, a trumpeter, a standard-bearer and two outriders. They came at a gallop right up to the gates, where Caius awaited them, and drew to a halt. The centurion did not dismount; he looked down on Cay from a horse several hands higher that any we had bred.

"Proconsul Caius Britannicus?" He looked unsure of himself.