Read Online Cato 05 - The Eagles Prey by Simon Scarrow - Free Book Online
Authors: Simon Scarrow
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me.’
‘First Batavian?’ Macro thought for a moment. ‘Didn’t they get a good pasting in the marshes on the Tamesis, last summer?’
‘Yes …’
‘Thought so.’ Macro nodded, and jerked a thumb at Cato. ‘We were there. Had to do some tidying up after them. Made a bit of a hash of it, chasing down some of the locals. Got lost in the marsh and pretty much cut to pieces. Ain’t that right, Cato?’
‘Er, yes. I suppose so.’ Cato was watching Maximius carefully and saw the cohort commander frown. ‘But they fought well enough.’
Macro turned to him with a surprised expression and Cato quickly shook his head.
‘They did fight well,’ Maximius growled. ‘They were a credit to their commander. Lost over half their number and Porcinus still kept them at it. As I said, they’re in good hands.’
‘Well,’ Macro sniffed. ‘If he’s a good commander, then why…?’
Cato was staring hard at his friend and finally Macro got the point. He paused, looked at Maximius quickly, and cleared his throat.
‘Why what?’ Maximius prompted him in a harsh tone.
‘Er, why . . . why didn’t the general honour him?’
‘You know the score, Macro. Some centurions just happen to get on the wrong side of our generals and legates. While some others -’ Maximius glanced towards Cato - ‘just seem to get everything handed to them on a plate. That’s the way of the world. Wouldn’t you agree, Centurion Cato?’
‘Yes, sir.’ Cato forced himself to smile. ‘Just one of the profession’s iniquities.’
‘Iniquities?’ Maximius repeated in a mocking tone. ‘Now there’s a fine word. Know any more like that, son?’
‘Sir?’
‘You got any other smart words you want to use on me?’
‘Sir, I didn’t mean-’
‘Rest easy!’ Maximius grinned, too widely, and raised his hand.’No harm done, lad, and no offence taken, eh? You can’t help it if you’ve spent most of your life with your nose stuck in a book, instead of doing proper soldiering, can you?’
Cato looked down to hide the anger flushing through his face. ‘No, sir. And I aim to make up for it.’
‘Of course you do, lad.’ Maximius winked at Antonius and Felix. ‘A boy’s got to learn, after all.’
‘After all what, sir?’ Cato looked round at his commander. Maximius smiled at the determined glint in the young officer’s eyes. He slapped Cato on the shoulder.
‘Figure of speech, son. That’s all it was.’
‘Fair enough, sir.’ Cato gave a small nod. ‘Might I get back to my men now?’
‘No need to sulk, Cato.’
There was a tense beat as Cato tried to control a new flush of anger. He realised well enough that Maximius was baiting him, trying to force him into some kind of petulant display in front of the other centurions. It was so tempting to bite back, to defend his achievements, to point out the medallions he wore on his harness. Unfortunately, Maximius, Macro and Tullius each carried more sets than he did. Antonius and Felix had yet to win any decorations for bravery and Cato would merely offend them as the other three centurions laughed at his bratish arrogance. Any attempt at a put-down would be taken as insubordination and only make the situation worse. Yet to do nothing would make him look like a weakling, and merely invite further lacerating remarks from Maximius. Bullying was a prerogative of rank, and Cato realised it was something he would just have to put up with. Unfair as it was, few of his fellow centurions would side with him. A man had to pay his dues and put up with all the petty slights and cruel taunts, with no possibility of being able to respond. Any man who succumbed to that temptation was as good as broken. All Cato could do was weather the torment and accept the . . . iniquity - he smiled bitterly to himself - of the situation.
With a flash of insight he realised that was just another way the army had of toughening up its men. The discomforts of army life were as much mental as physical,
‘First Batavian?’ Macro thought for a moment. ‘Didn’t they get a good pasting in the marshes on the Tamesis, last summer?’
‘Yes …’
‘Thought so.’ Macro nodded, and jerked a thumb at Cato. ‘We were there. Had to do some tidying up after them. Made a bit of a hash of it, chasing down some of the locals. Got lost in the marsh and pretty much cut to pieces. Ain’t that right, Cato?’
‘Er, yes. I suppose so.’ Cato was watching Maximius carefully and saw the cohort commander frown. ‘But they fought well enough.’
Macro turned to him with a surprised expression and Cato quickly shook his head.
‘They did fight well,’ Maximius growled. ‘They were a credit to their commander. Lost over half their number and Porcinus still kept them at it. As I said, they’re in good hands.’
‘Well,’ Macro sniffed. ‘If he’s a good commander, then why…?’
Cato was staring hard at his friend and finally Macro got the point. He paused, looked at Maximius quickly, and cleared his throat.
‘Why what?’ Maximius prompted him in a harsh tone.
‘Er, why . . . why didn’t the general honour him?’
‘You know the score, Macro. Some centurions just happen to get on the wrong side of our generals and legates. While some others -’ Maximius glanced towards Cato - ‘just seem to get everything handed to them on a plate. That’s the way of the world. Wouldn’t you agree, Centurion Cato?’
‘Yes, sir.’ Cato forced himself to smile. ‘Just one of the profession’s iniquities.’
‘Iniquities?’ Maximius repeated in a mocking tone. ‘Now there’s a fine word. Know any more like that, son?’
‘Sir?’
‘You got any other smart words you want to use on me?’
‘Sir, I didn’t mean-’
‘Rest easy!’ Maximius grinned, too widely, and raised his hand.’No harm done, lad, and no offence taken, eh? You can’t help it if you’ve spent most of your life with your nose stuck in a book, instead of doing proper soldiering, can you?’
Cato looked down to hide the anger flushing through his face. ‘No, sir. And I aim to make up for it.’
‘Of course you do, lad.’ Maximius winked at Antonius and Felix. ‘A boy’s got to learn, after all.’
‘After all what, sir?’ Cato looked round at his commander. Maximius smiled at the determined glint in the young officer’s eyes. He slapped Cato on the shoulder.
‘Figure of speech, son. That’s all it was.’
‘Fair enough, sir.’ Cato gave a small nod. ‘Might I get back to my men now?’
‘No need to sulk, Cato.’
There was a tense beat as Cato tried to control a new flush of anger. He realised well enough that Maximius was baiting him, trying to force him into some kind of petulant display in front of the other centurions. It was so tempting to bite back, to defend his achievements, to point out the medallions he wore on his harness. Unfortunately, Maximius, Macro and Tullius each carried more sets than he did. Antonius and Felix had yet to win any decorations for bravery and Cato would merely offend them as the other three centurions laughed at his bratish arrogance. Any attempt at a put-down would be taken as insubordination and only make the situation worse. Yet to do nothing would make him look like a weakling, and merely invite further lacerating remarks from Maximius. Bullying was a prerogative of rank, and Cato realised it was something he would just have to put up with. Unfair as it was, few of his fellow centurions would side with him. A man had to pay his dues and put up with all the petty slights and cruel taunts, with no possibility of being able to respond. Any man who succumbed to that temptation was as good as broken. All Cato could do was weather the torment and accept the . . . iniquity - he smiled bitterly to himself - of the situation.
With a flash of insight he realised that was just another way the army had of toughening up its men. The discomforts of army life were as much mental as physical,
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