The Siege by Nick Brown

repeated.
    ‘Sir?’ said Strabo flatly.
    Flavian stomped forward, bloodshot eyes locked on Cassius. He smacked the stave noisily against his other hand.
    ‘Deal with him!’ Cassius shouted, resisting the temptation to turn and run. Flavian was no more than twenty feet away.
    ‘What exactly should I do, sir?’ asked Strabo, drawing laughs from some of the men.
    ‘What about your duty!’ snapped Barates.
    Flavian charged on, a bestial grimace on his face.
    ‘Deal with him now!’ Cassius yelled. If it hadn’t been for the flash of movement to his right, he would have made his escape.
    Strabo covered the distance with surprising speed and his well-timed trip caught Flavian perfectly. The legionary fell forward head first, cracking two tiles with his skull. The stave flew out of his hand and clattered to the ground at Cassius’ feet.
    Barates squatted down and examined the legionary’s head. He was unconscious but still breathing.
    ‘There’ll be quite a lump, but he’ll be all right.’
    ‘What should we do with him?’ asked Strabo.
    ‘Put him in his bed,’ Cassius answered, loudly enough for the men to hear. ‘I’ve no use for a drunk.’
    Strabo turned Flavian over and waved a couple of men forward to help him. One of Flavian’s cronies broke ranks, rounding the first and second lines.
    ‘Hands off, Strabo! We look after our own here.’
    ‘Get back in line, Avso,’ said Strabo, dropping Flavian’s prone form roughly to the ground. ‘This is none of your concern.’
    ‘And since when has taking charge been yours?’ countered the legionary angrily.
    Avso was not a big man, but he looked wiry and tough. He was probably no more than thirty, but had a gaunt, almost cadaverous face and a head of lank, greasy hair. Cassius also noted his well-maintained weaponry and a livid pink scar that ran diagonally across his right shin.
    Two of Avso’s supporters stepped up behind him while some of those in the first line exchanged glances with Strabo. There seemed to be a distinct possibility that Cassius’ first address was about to deteriorate into a brawl.
    However, the guard officer took a breath. He glanced first at Cassius, then back at his would-be adversary.
    ‘Avso, I know you’re Thracian but try to keep up. We have a new centurion here and he’d like to finish his speech.’ Strabo nodded down at Flavian. ‘Take your friend, clean him up and get back here on the double.’
    Avso hesitated for a moment, then beckoned the others forward. It took all three of them to carry Flavian off the square and into the barracks.
    Cassius let the men settle down, composed himself, then continued.
    ‘As I was saying, I know you’ve had a difficult time out here – not knowing what’s going on beyond these walls and manning such a remote post without pay – and I’m not going to pretend that all is well with the war. The Palmyrans could strike here and we must be ready.’
    Reading the apprehension in the eyes of those he addressed, Cassius moved on quickly.
    ‘But there is good news. A cavalry column is on its way: General Valens’ men. They should be here in four or five days. When they arrive you will receive all wages due. That’s straight from General Navio.’ As before, Cassius felt the lie was a risk worth taking. He had to do something to get the men on side and could always plead innocence or ignorance at a later time. ‘I have been sent here to ensure that the relieving forces find a well-organised, well-defended fort.’
    A man in the second line raised his hand.
    ‘Yes, legionary.’
    ‘What will happen then, sir? Some of us have been out here almost two years. If we could at least get back to Antioch—’
    ‘Yes, of course. I must be honest on that point. I do not know how you will be re-deployed.’
    ‘If I may, sir,’ Strabo piped up. ‘Seems to me that if there are fresh centuries coming to reinforce the area, they won’t want a unit that can barely muster fifty. It might be that