Cato 02 - The Eagles Conquest Read Online Free PDF Page B

looked down on the hideously disfigured face of the chief centurion. Had this man once been an attractive youth? Attractive enough to win the affection of the great General Germanicus? It was hard to believe. Cato had only known Bestia as a harsh, cruel disciplinarian. But who knows what secrets a man holds when he dies? Some he takes with him to the underworld, some are revealed.
    ‘Well?’ Macro said impatiently. ‘What’s it say?’
    Knowing his centurion’s intolerances, Cato thought quickly. ‘It’s a gift from Germanicus, for his services.’ ‘Germanicus? The Germanicus?’
    ‘I suppose so, sir. There’s no more detail than that.’
    ‘I had no idea the old boy was so well-connected. That deserves another toast. ‘
    Cato reluctantly handed him the amphora, and winced as Macro guzzled more of the vintage wine. The amphora felt disappointingly light when he got it back. Rather than lose the balance of his bequest to the belly of his centurion, Cato toasted Bestia again and gulped down as much as he could handle in one go.
    Macro belched. ‘W -well, Bestia must have performed a pretty heroic deed to win that little beauty. A sword from Germanicus! That’s quite something, quite something.’
    ‘Yes, sir,’ Cato agreed quietly. ‘It must have been.’ ‘Look after that blade, lad. It’s priceless.’
    ‘I will, sir.’ Cato was beginning to feel the effects of the wine in the hot, close confines of the tent, and suddenly craved fresh air. ‘I think we should leave him now, sir. Let him rest in peace.’
    ‘He’s dead, Cato. He’s not asleep.’
    ‘Figure of speech. Anyway, I need to get out of here, sir. I need to be outside.’
    ‘Me too.’ Macro flipped the linen shroud back over Bestia and roll owed the optio outside. The rain had stopped and, as the clouds were clearing away, the stars flickered dully in the humid atmosphere. Cato drew in deep lungfuls of air. He was feeling the wine more than ever and wondered if he would suffer the indignity of being sick.
    ‘Let’s get back to our tent and finish the amphora,’.Macro said cheerily.
    ‘We owe the old boy that at least.’ ‘Do we?’ Cato replied bleakly.
    ‘Of course we do. Old army tradition. That’s how we mourn our dead.’ ‘A tradition?’
    ‘Well, it is now.’ Macro smiled woozily. ‘Come on, let’s go.’ Holding tightly to his new sword in its scabbard, Cato relinquished control of the amphora and the pair of them steered an uncertain course back through the neat lines of tents to those of their own century.
    At dawn the next morning, when Bestia’s pyre was ignited, the centurion and optio of the Sixth Century in the Fourth Cohort gazed on with bleary eyes. The entire Second Legion was formed up to witness the event, and faced the pyre on three sides while the legate, the camp prefect, tribunes and other senior officers stood at attention on the fourth side. Vespasian had chosen his position well, upwind from the pyre in the light airs wafting across the British landscape. Directly opposite, the first tendrils of thick oily smoke, laden with the odour of burning fat, wafted across the legionaries standing at attention. A chorus of coughing broke out around Macro and his optio, and a moment later Cato’s rather too delicate stomach clenched like a fist, and he doubled over and vomited the disturbed contents of his guts all over the grass at his feet.
    Macro sighed. Even from beyond the shadows of death Bestia had the capacity to make his men suffer.
     

Chapter Five
    ‘The problem, gentlemen, is that hillock over there.’ The general pointed across the river with his baton, and the eyes of his senior officers followed the direction indicated. In addition to the commanders of the four legions, amongst the cluster of scarlet cloaks were Plautius’ staff officers. Vespasian was finding it hard not to be amused by the amount of dazzling gilt that was adorning the burnished breastplate of his brother Sabinus, who was