Cato 04 - The Eagle and the Wolves by Simon Scarrow

defences around the main gate, and take down a number of the enemy warriors, the catapults and bolt-throwers had failed to make a large enough breach. When the First Cohort had been thrown into the assault they met a far more determined resistance than they had anticipated. Next time the legion would wait until its artillery was able to lay down the kind of barrage that breaks the enemy’s will to resist, Vespasian decided.
    He felt guilty about rushing the assault, and was honest enough to admit the reason behind the order to attack was based on his ambition to have a high tally of victories to his name. Men had paid for his ambition with their blood. The legate quickly tried to repress the self-criticism by moving his thoughts on to a related problem. The Durotrigans were as fanatical in the final fight as they had been in the preparation of their defences. As a result there had been no survivors when the enraged legionaries had burst through the gateway and swarmed into the hillfort’s interior. Every man, woman and child had been put to the sword.
    That was a terrible waste, Vespasian reflected. Next time he would insist on taking as many of the enemy alive as possible. A good healthy Celt attracted a premium price in Rome at the moment with the latest fad for barbarian chic raging amongst those with more money than taste. Vespasian’s share of the spoils would earn him a small fortune. Just as it would his men, if they could just manage to restrain their bloodlust long enough to realise that the pleasures of rape and pillage were transitory, whereas the profits from slave dealing could provide a nice supplement to their retirement funds. Orders must be given to the centurions to restrain their men when the legion took the next hillfort, Vespasian resolved. There would be no further waste of valuable lives, Roman or Briton.
    Only the sheep, cattle and a few pigs had lived through the Roman assault. These livestock were being driven down the sides of the hill towards the camp. The animals would not survive very much longer than their erstwhile owners, and the delighted legionaries would be consuming fresh roast meat once again. Vespasian was pleased to have thus supplemented his supplies. However, the legion would soon be tackling a chain of much larger forts, and once again Vespasian would be reliant on a steady flow of supplies from the depot at Calleva.
    Therein lay his most pressing difficulty. With Caratacus sending fast-moving columns to raid the legion’s supply lines, Vespasian’s men might be forced to live off the land. Worse, there would be no equipment to replace material lost in battle and losses due to wear and tear. It all depended on King Verica and the Atrebatans keeping to the terms of their alliance with Rome, and guaranteeing the safe passage of supply convoys through their territory. The formation of the two cohorts at Calleva might help ease the burden, and lift some of the weight of anxiety from Vespasian’s shoulders. The legate was sure he could trust Centurion Macro with the task - and Centurion Cato, for that matter.
    Vespasian smiled at the recollection of the moment he had informed the youngster of his promotion a few months earlier. Cato had been laying on a bed in the hospital at the Calleva depot. He had barely been able to blink back the tears of pride. Cato had great promise, and had justified the legate’s estimation of his worth time and again. It would be interesting to see how the young man was coping with the responsibilities of his new rank, Vespasian mused. He was not quite in his twentieth year, and once Cato rejoined the Second Legion he faced one of the most daunting experiences a man could ever have in taking charge of the eighty legionaries of his first command.
    Vespasian could clearly recall the painful self-consciousness with which he addressed the small patrol he had led when appointed a tribune nearly fourteen years ago. The grim veterans had listened to his