The Blood Crows (Roman Legion 12) Read Online Free Page B

thoroughfare between the ships and the warehouses. A cacophony of voices filled the cool spring afternoon and in amongst them were the brays of mules and the crack of whips and the shouts of the overseers of the chain gangs. Though the scene looked chaotic, Cato knew that in every detail it was proof of the transformation that had come to the island that had defied the power of Rome for almost a hundred years. For better or worse, change had come to Britannia and once the last pockets of resistance had been crushed, the new province would take shape and become part of the empire.
    Macro joined him and glanced round briefly before he muttered, ‘Welcome back to Britannia . . . arse end of civilisation.’

CHAPTER THREE
     
    Once the boat returned with their belongings, Macro approached a small group of men gathered outside the nearest warehouse.
    ‘I need some porters,’ he announced, addressing them in his loud, clear, parade-ground voice. At once they hurried forward and he chose several of the burliest-looking men, one of whom had a strip of leather about his head to clear his brow of thick, wiry blond hair. A brand was visible on his forehead, beneath the leather. Macro recognised the mark at once. The brand of Mithras, a religion from the east that was steadily spreading through the ranks of the Roman army. ‘You, a soldier once, if I’m not mistaken?’
    The man bowed his head. ‘I was, sir. Before I took a Silurian spear through the leg. Left me with a limp, I couldn’t keep up with the rest of the lads. Army had no choice but to discharge me, sir.’
    Macro looked him over. The man wore a threadbare military cloak over his tunic and his boots were held together by strips of cloth. ‘Let me guess. You pissed away your discharge bonus and this is what you’ve been reduced to.’
    The ex-soldier nodded. ‘That’s about the size of it, sir.’
    ‘What is your name and unit?’
    ‘Legionary Marcus Metellius Decimus, Second Legion, Augusta, sir!’ The man straightened to attention and winced before stretching a hand down to steady his thigh.
    ‘The Second, eh?’ Macro stroked his jaw. ‘That’s my old mob. Or, I should say, our old mob.’ He jerked his thumb towards Cato. ‘We served under Legate Vespasian.’
    Decimus tilted his head regretfully. ‘Before my time, sir.’
    ‘Pity. Very well, Decimus, you take charge of these men. Our baggage is over there on the wharf by my friend there, and the woman.’
    Decimus glanced across the thoroughfare and sniffed. ‘She’s a bit old for him. Unless she’s got money . . . Then they’re never too old.’
    Macro gritted his teeth. ‘The woman in question is my mother . . . Now move yourself!’
    Decimus quickly turned away and gestured to the other men to follow. As they hefted the chests and kitbags, Cato tried to get his bearings. ‘Which way to the local garrison?’
    ‘There’s no garrison, sir. No fort. Not even any fortifications, for that matter. There was a fort a few years back, but the place was growing so fast it got swallowed up. That’s where they’re building the new basilica, on the site of the old fort.’
    ‘I see.’ Cato sighed in frustration. ‘Then where can I find someone on the governor’s staff?’
    Decimus thought about it. ‘You could try the governor’s quarters, sir. They’re to the side of the building site. Anyway, that’s where you’ll find him.’
    Cato was surprised. ‘Ostorius is here in Londinium?’
    ‘Yes, sir.’
    ‘But the provincial capital is Camulodunum.’
    ‘Officially, sir, yes. After all, that’s where Caratacus came from, and that’s where Emperor Claudius has pledged to have a temple erected in his honour. But it’s too far east. Despite what they may want back in Rome, it seems that everyone here has chosen Londinium as the main town. Even the governor. And that’s why you’ll find him here.’
    Cato took in the information and nodded. ‘Very well, take us to his