Jack Whyte - The Singing Sword

Caius spoke. "I am he. Has it become customary nowadays for a centurion to talk down to a Roman senator?"

"Your pardon, Proconsul." The man had meant no disrespect. He flushed, and his eyes switched from Caius to his troopers, than back to Caius again. "Escort will dismount!" All five of them slipped heavily to the ground from the backs of their horses, the standard-bearer achieving this feat with some difficulty, to Cay's eyes, because of the size and length of the great scarlet standard he carried. As the man stiffened to attention again, Caius eyed the standard.

"What emblem is this?" he asked. "It is new to me."

The centurion saluted. "New to the whole world, Proconsul. Ours is a new unit. Heavy cavalry. Fresh arrived from Armorica by way of Gaul."

"What are you called? Your unit, I mean."

"Lead Equine Cohort, seconded from Thirty-fourth Legion on special duty, Proconsul."

"Lead Equine Cohort! I see. The Thirty-fourth Legion, you say? Welcome, and what may we do for you, Centurion?"

The man cleared his throat. "We have been sent ahead to request your hospitality, Proconsul. We have been on the road from Londinium these five days past, and our commander would like to rest here for a while with you, if you can accommodate us."

"Five days from Londinium?" Caius sounded surprised. "You have made good time. Where are you headed?"

The centurion cleared his throat again. "I regret I am not at liberty to say, Proconsul."

"No, I suppose not. A heavy cavalry unit, you say? Since when has Rome had heavy cavalry?"

"Since only very recently, Proconsul. A few years."

"Hmmm." Britannicus's grunt no doubt sounded unimpressed. "Who is your commander, and how many of you are there? Not a whole cohort, I trust? How long will you be staying?"

"No, Proconsul, three squadrons only. Marcellus Vicere is our tribune, and we have one hundred and thirty-eight men and horses, Proconsul."

"One hun — ?" Britannicus told me later he felt like an actor in a play. He widened his eyes and made his voice reflect what he called singular astonishment. "Do you have grain for your horses?"

"Aye, Proconsul, in the commissary wagons. And food for our men."

"Oh! I see." Cay now allowed himself to appear mollified. "Well, that's not so bad, I suppose. I think we can look after you. For one night, at least." He turned to one of the gawking servants. "Nestor, find Gallo and tell him to prepare enough meat to feed a hundred and fifty extra men tonight. Tell him I don't care where he finds it, even if we have to borrow it from our neighbours. We can repay it later. Tell him we have company from Londinium, and bid him have his people set up tables in the fields behind the villa of Terrix and Fermax." He held up his hand to detain the man and turned back to the centurion. "You said one hundred and thirty-eight horses?"

The man shrugged and nodded at the same time. "One hundred and forty-four, Proconsul, with the wagon horses."

Britannicus turned back to Nestor. "Send word to Victorex, as well, that we will need his walled pastures. If he has workhorses there, send them to the farms and leave them there tonight."

Nestor bowed and left at the run.

Caius turned back to the centurion. "How many officers are with you altogether?"

"Five, Proconsul. Four regular and one... guest."

"A guest? On a patrol? Who is this gentleman?"

The centurion flushed and looked away into the distance. "I... I do not know his name, Proconsul."

It was an obvious lie, according to Cay, and he ignored it. "And you? What is your mark among these mounted troops?"

The man smiled, pleased to have the subject changed. "The same as it has always been, my lord. Senior Warrant Officer. Lead Cohortal Spear. Pilus prior."

"Good. My greetings to your commander. He and his officers are welcome to share our roof tonight, and to dine with us. When your people arrive, my man here, Rollo, will show them where they are to be quartered." He nodded his dismissal and turned as if to leave before swinging back again to the centurion. "How long before your people arrive?"

"Perhaps an hour, Proconsul, little more. They are close behind us."

Caius nodded again and left them standing in the road, surrounded by gawkers. He had not taken three steps, however, before the primus pilus called out to him.

"Proconsul, your pardon, sir, but I am sore set. Could I use your latrines?"

Caius's eyebrow went up at this astonishing request, but he was too polite to rebuke the man. "Of course you may. Rollo, show the centurion where to go."

As Caius passed through the gates of the villa, he was congratulating himself on having handled the meeting without raising suspicion. He felt, he told me, that he had achieved just the correct mixture of surprise and indignation, tempered with a touch of well-bred impatience, and he believed that if all of us could maintain the tone he had established, we should be able to emerge from this entire exercise in control of the situation. He knew the pilus had lied when asked about their "guest" on the patrol, but he also knew the reason for the lie, because the "guest" was the Imperial Inspector. He was not surprised that the man had clearly been placed under orders to say nothing about the true purpose of this visit.

I returned about then to the villa, emerging from the woods to the east just in time to see Caius's shape disappearing through the villa gates. I took note of the standard party, but made no effort to hurry, and when I was no more than a hundred paces from them I saw their commander stride out through the gates, spring nimbly up onto his big horse, then wheel his men and ride off at their head. They did not even notice me.

I found Cay still standing on the front steps of the villa, staring in perplexity at something he held in his hand. He was turning to enter the house when he noticed me, and he stood where he was until I joined him, leaving my horse ground-tethered. The object in his hand was a thickly folded square of papyrus, and he was tapping it fretfully against the back of his left wrist, still frowning bemusedly, when I reached him. I indicated it with a nod of my head.

"What have you there? Did they deliver it?"

"Yes," he said. "But strangely, and it makes no sense."

I laughed. "Neither does what you just said. How did it go?"

"Hmmm?" He looked at me as if I were speaking Greek.

"Your meeting with them. How did it go?"

"Oh. Very well, I think. They had no idea we expected them. But this ..." He waved the folded papyrus at me. "I know not what to make of this. Most extraordinary."

I put my hand on his shoulder and turned him towards the door. "Come, I'm parched. Let's have a cup of wine while we discuss it."

A few moments later, the first edge of my thirst dealt with, I refilled my cup and slid down into a couch.

"Ye gods, what a day! I've covered the whole Colony in one afternoon. So. Tell me what happened."

He did, relating the entire conversation with the pilus prior. When he told me of the man's request to use the latrine, I laughed aloud, but Caius cut my laugh short.

"No, Publius. It was a ruse, for some obscure purpose. Look at this." He held up the papyrus again. "Rollo took him to the latrine and then came back bringing me this. The man wanted me to have it without anyone else's knowledge. The message it contains is nonsense. The word from the pilus prior, delivered to me by Rollo, was that he had brought this secretly, for my eyes only, as a favour to a friend. But who that friend might be, or what his purpose is, is beyond me."

"What?" I stood up and held out my hand and he passed the message to me. I flipped it open and read the words aloud. "When the primus pilus speaks of God, remember God and take heed. He rides with the pilus prior." It was signed "PPPP" — a signature well known to my eyes — and I read it in full: "Pontius Plautus, primus pilus."