already, and to Germanicus. We finish the ditch and rampart, and hold this position. In the middle of the night, we can go to the well and raid the stores, and take enough water and food to last us a while. Then we wait. That’s what we fucking do.’
‘Germanicus better get here soon.’
Fenestela was right, thought Tullus, listening to the mutineers’ bloodcurdling roars. If Germanicus came too late, he would find nothing but corpses.
Chapter VII
THREE DAYS WENT by in the great summer camp. Piso and his comrades were often on sentry duty, watching the groups of mutineers who surrounded the principia. To Piso’s relief, they made no attempt to attack the position. Much of the time, it seemed that the rebellious legionaries’ only purpose was to drink every drop of wine they could find. Once it became clear that there was to be no assault, morale within the headquarters rallied a good deal. Because of the mutineers’ drunken state, Piso and Vitellius didn’t object when Tullus sent them out at night to collect water and steal much-needed supplies.
Each day, Caecina sent messengers on horseback to find Germanicus. As he said repeatedly, ‘One might fail to get through, or two, but not all of them. Germanicus will soon hear of our plight.’
His words did little to reassure Vitellius. ‘How will Germanicus bring the mutineers around?’ he asked Piso over and over. ‘Other than by granting their demands of course, which isn’t likely.’
Piso had no answer, but he’d heard Tullus saying that Germanicus would know what to do, and that was good enough for him. All they had to do was hold out until the general arrived. He was less than impressed, therefore, when Tullus sought him and Vitellius out early on the fourth morning with orders to go out into the camp to see what they could discover about the mutineers’ intentions.
‘It won’t be that dangerous,’ Tullus declared. ‘The stupid bastards have only placed a couple of sentries around the sides and rear. It’ll be easy to slip out.’
‘It’s not that, sir,’ said Piso, his fear giving him the courage to answer back. ‘What if we get recognised?’
‘Wear a hooded cloak. Avoid the Fifth’s tent lines – go and see what’s happening where the other legions are camped. If you do happen to spy anyone you know, just walk the other way. It can’t be hard to avoid attention in a camp of seventeen thousand men.’
Tullus was right, Piso told himself. ‘All right, sir.’
‘Good lad. You’ll be fine.’ Tullus gripped his shoulder. ‘I’d come with you, but Caecina has forbidden it. Says he needs me here.’
‘Is anyone else to go, sir?’ asked Vitellius.
‘Six others from the century. You will operate in pairs, though. You’d attract more attention in larger numbers. It’s tunics, belts, swords and a cloak each – nothing more. I’ll be back soon.’ With an approving nod, Tullus left them to it.
Piso and Vitellius exchanged a meaningful glance.
‘It can’t be worse than the forest was,’ muttered Vitellius.
That was small consolation, thought Piso. If they were denounced by a single legionary, they’d be beaten to death in the blink of an eye, as traitors.
‘Ready?’ hissed Piso. They had both just clambered over the rampart and ditch that now ran around the principia. There was no one in sight, but that would change fast, even at this early hour. Not every mutinous legionary lay abed until midday.
‘Aye.’
Piso was already walking north. He wanted to put a good distance between them and the Fifth’s lines, which lay near the camp’s southern gate. Apart from a handful of former comrades from the Eighteenth, he didn’t know a soul in any of the other three legions, and was glad of it at this moment.
‘Hood up or not?’ asked Vitellius, pacing alongside.
‘Heart says up, head says down,’ answered Piso. ‘It’s not cold, though, is it?’
Vitellius’ hand fell to his side. ‘Aye, I suppose you’re
‘Germanicus better get here soon.’
Fenestela was right, thought Tullus, listening to the mutineers’ bloodcurdling roars. If Germanicus came too late, he would find nothing but corpses.
Chapter VII
THREE DAYS WENT by in the great summer camp. Piso and his comrades were often on sentry duty, watching the groups of mutineers who surrounded the principia. To Piso’s relief, they made no attempt to attack the position. Much of the time, it seemed that the rebellious legionaries’ only purpose was to drink every drop of wine they could find. Once it became clear that there was to be no assault, morale within the headquarters rallied a good deal. Because of the mutineers’ drunken state, Piso and Vitellius didn’t object when Tullus sent them out at night to collect water and steal much-needed supplies.
Each day, Caecina sent messengers on horseback to find Germanicus. As he said repeatedly, ‘One might fail to get through, or two, but not all of them. Germanicus will soon hear of our plight.’
His words did little to reassure Vitellius. ‘How will Germanicus bring the mutineers around?’ he asked Piso over and over. ‘Other than by granting their demands of course, which isn’t likely.’
Piso had no answer, but he’d heard Tullus saying that Germanicus would know what to do, and that was good enough for him. All they had to do was hold out until the general arrived. He was less than impressed, therefore, when Tullus sought him and Vitellius out early on the fourth morning with orders to go out into the camp to see what they could discover about the mutineers’ intentions.
‘It won’t be that dangerous,’ Tullus declared. ‘The stupid bastards have only placed a couple of sentries around the sides and rear. It’ll be easy to slip out.’
‘It’s not that, sir,’ said Piso, his fear giving him the courage to answer back. ‘What if we get recognised?’
‘Wear a hooded cloak. Avoid the Fifth’s tent lines – go and see what’s happening where the other legions are camped. If you do happen to spy anyone you know, just walk the other way. It can’t be hard to avoid attention in a camp of seventeen thousand men.’
Tullus was right, Piso told himself. ‘All right, sir.’
‘Good lad. You’ll be fine.’ Tullus gripped his shoulder. ‘I’d come with you, but Caecina has forbidden it. Says he needs me here.’
‘Is anyone else to go, sir?’ asked Vitellius.
‘Six others from the century. You will operate in pairs, though. You’d attract more attention in larger numbers. It’s tunics, belts, swords and a cloak each – nothing more. I’ll be back soon.’ With an approving nod, Tullus left them to it.
Piso and Vitellius exchanged a meaningful glance.
‘It can’t be worse than the forest was,’ muttered Vitellius.
That was small consolation, thought Piso. If they were denounced by a single legionary, they’d be beaten to death in the blink of an eye, as traitors.
‘Ready?’ hissed Piso. They had both just clambered over the rampart and ditch that now ran around the principia. There was no one in sight, but that would change fast, even at this early hour. Not every mutinous legionary lay abed until midday.
‘Aye.’
Piso was already walking north. He wanted to put a good distance between them and the Fifth’s lines, which lay near the camp’s southern gate. Apart from a handful of former comrades from the Eighteenth, he didn’t know a soul in any of the other three legions, and was glad of it at this moment.
‘Hood up or not?’ asked Vitellius, pacing alongside.
‘Heart says up, head says down,’ answered Piso. ‘It’s not cold, though, is it?’
Vitellius’ hand fell to his side. ‘Aye, I suppose you’re
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