Chapter 4

The wolf plagued Cato’s dreams again that night. The pull of the moon was stronger. This time, however, there was someone else Standing with the wolf. A woman, draped in silver moonlight. She held the wolf on a leash. Her luminescent skin glowed.

Cato sat up in his bed, drenched in sweat. The dream left a tight feeling in his chest. The golden eyes etched into his memory. He stood up and walked to the tent entrance. Pulling the leather cover aside, Cato gazed over the camp. The sky was a pitch black. The eastern horizon gave no indication of dawn.

“A cloudless night Flavius.” Cato muttered.

“That it is Prefect.” Flavius concurred. “The gods smile on me this night and spare me the snowfall.”

“That they do.” Cato affirmed. They both chuckled.

Cato liked Flavius. The man was many years his senior and had a cheerful, jovial demeanor, yet he still showed Cato the respect his position demanded. His mistake of the previous day was long forgotten along with the unorthodox punishment. He had a well-controlled ego. Cato could appreciate a man of true character like that.

“Should be dawn soon then?” Cato inquired.

“Within the next hour I’d say sir.” Flavius responded. “Your father sent a messenger while you were asleep.”

“Then I shall be off to him.” Cato said, turning to head back inside. The dark chill crept into his bones.

“The messenger said you have been assigned with the century of centurion Aelius Lingus as your escort party.” Flavius called back.

“Centurion Lingus is an honorable man and a valiant commander, but his entire century has been replenished with recruits.” Cato noted. “Though, it would be good for them to be given an honorable duty, especially for Lingus. He’s lost much in this war.”

“You continue to astonish sir.” Flavius commented.

“Flavius,” Cato sighed. “It is a shame that men in authority forget their duties to those they have been given authority over.”

“That must be your peregrinus blood talking.” Flavius joked.

Cato chuckled as well. Very few knew of his adoption by Costa, even fewer about his true bloodline. He thought of his real father, Carvorst. He was a Celtic slave in Costa’s house. Cato was still young when he died, and Costa took him in as his own son.

“It is good to be prepared for the journey before anyone else.” Cato announced clapping his hands together. “Flavius, find Tiberius and prepare to take down the tent. I shall ready myself immediately. Everything should be packed and ready to go at dawn.”

The preparations went as planned and the equipment was already loaded by the time Centurion Lingus marched over to the Principia. Cato watched him approach along the snow covered principalis road.

The man was short and stocky. His muscular legs looked like small tree trunks and he walked with urgency. Cato was pleased to see he was able to smile as he marched down the road, greeting those he passed with a smile.

“Centurion Aelius Lingus, fourth century, eighth cohort, at your service prefect.” The stout man’s voice was deep and gravely. He saluted and stood at attention. He had scars all over his arms and face. Cato knew of his bravery in battle.

“Good morning centurion.” Cato smiled. “It is good to know that I will have you watching my back as we walk straight into the misty lands of our enemy.”

“I’m glad to be given the opportunity sir.”

Cato patted him on the shoulder, and they headed for Boudicca’s group of tents to escort them to the praetoria gate where Lingus’ men would be ready and waiting. The two marched in silence. When the reached Boudicca’s tents, they had all been packed up. A nearby legionary informed them that the Iceni warriors had gathered at the praetoria gate at daybreak.

“That woman will be the death of us both, centurion.” Cato shook his head. It wouldn’t hurt to send a messenger. “Let us be off then.”

They reached the gate in time to see a fight almost erupt between the Iceni warriors and the Roman recruits. Immediately Lingus jumped in.

“At attention men!” His gruff voice bouncing off the reinforced camp walls. He waited for the Romans to settle before turning to Cato and nodding.

Cato stepped forward and looked at the men before him. He scanned the Iceni and located Boudicca between two pale heavyset men. Their red hair looked like living flames as the strands caught the morning breeze. He caught Boudicca’s gaze and gave her an acknowledging smile. She had bested him again, making him look like an incompetent commander in front of the centurion, not that she knew he would be there.

“We will be setting out as an escort to princess Boudicca of the Iceni.” Cato announced. “Our destination is Eboracum. If all goes well, we should reach our destination within ten days.”

Cato nodded for Lingus to take over. The logistics had to be sorted out. Each man would be given a mount to make the trip quicker. Costa had urged Tribune Balbus that time was of the essence and so horses had been brought in from Camulodunom at the Tribune’s expense. They then organized into a double column formation with Cato and Boudicca at the head, followed by the Iceni warriors and legionaries intermixed while the luggage mules trailed behind. Once all was ready the column set off for Lindum, the southernmost Brigantes village.

It was good weather for travelling, Cato thought. The breeze was light and though it was cold, the cloudless sky allowed for the maximum warmth of the sun to cover them. The majority of the territory was planes and so Cato was determined to cherish the open landscape while he could.

“The weather is good today.” Cato called back to Lingus.

“I knew it would be,” The commander replied. “I watched as a black-bellied bird flew off towards the north last night. It promised a good journey.”

Boudicca rode silently, not taking her eyes off the road ahead. That mattered little to Cato. Years of military life taught him how to march in silence. The rest of the group was not of the same mind. Cato could here a lot of bickering and banter. Lingus knew what he was doing splitting the men up amongst each other like that.

They reached Lindum shortly before sunset. It had been a hard day’s ride, but Boudicca had spoken to the village elders and convinced them to accommodate the soldiers rather than have them camp outside of town. Cato had been in the meeting, but it was more of a display of respect than anything since they all spoke Celtic. There wasn’t much Cato could recall of his mother tongue, so he stood and let Boudicca do all the talking.

They had been offered to sleep in the main dining hall and the men slept well. Cato felt himself restlessly tossing and turning on the stone floor. Images flashed across his eyelids. Drenched in icy sweat he decided to go for a walk.

The courtyard in front of the dining hall was simple cobble stone. Cato stood and looked up at the sky. Some clouds had formed and every so often the world would darken as they obscured the moon.

“You can’t sleep?” Boudicca’s gentle voice called out to him from the huge, oak doors of the dining hall.

Cato shook his head. He gazed up at the moon once again. Something about it called so him. That silver radiance seemed to clear his head. He felt his entire body relax. He saw her walk over to him out of the corner of his eye. They both stood there quietly admiring the night sky.

“I find it difficult to relax without gazing upon the moon.” Cato aid, finally breaking the silence. “This can’t be the same moon as seen in Rome.”

“I heard from some of the men that you are not Costa’s real son.” Boudicca replied, her voice had an eerie tone, as though she was about to speak a prophesy.

“That is correct. My father was a slave in Costa’s villa. After he died Costa took me in as a way of honoring him.”

“Both our fathers were enslaved by Rome then.” Boudicca stated flatly. “It seems we are not so different after all. You are simply the loyal dog as your father was. I am the tamed wolf, ready to turn on my captors should they neglect my needs.”

Cato shrugged. Maybe she was right. He turned to respond but she had already gone. I better get some rest, he thought to himself. It would be the last night they got to sleep under proper shelter. He returned to the dining hall and laid himself down onto his sleeping pack. He closed his eyes and awaited the wolfs return. Those golden eyes lurking in the corners of his mind.