Cato & macro 01 under the eag simon scarrow

'Now, join the front of the last century in line — that's the Sixth.

Wait for me there.'

'Sir?' 'What is it?'

'How long are we going to stand here?' asked Cato, already shivering.

'You just can't wait, can you?' Macro shook his head. 'Not long now, boy, we're just waiting for the tribune.'

One of the other centurions spat on the frozen ground. 'Bet the bastard's still in bed.'

'Doubt it,' Macro replied. 'The legate's on his case. Seems he wants to test Vitellius. But this little trip's nothing more than an exercise in command. Even Vitellius would struggle to screw it up.'

'Macro, old son, never underestimate the incompetence of staff officers. They're born and bred for disaster‌' The exchange fell out of earshot as Cato made his way towards the standard rising over the Sixth Century. A few of the men eyed him curiously as he approached.

'You're Macro's optio?' the standard bearer asked.

'Yes.' 'He mentioned he had a new boy, but I didn't dream he was being so literal.'

Cato opened his mouth to reply before he got control of his feelings. Then he blushed and fumed silently.

'Just stick close to the centurion and me, lad, and you'll be all right.'

As Cato stood at the head of the century the other optios had been given the nod and were now moving down the ranks quietly ordering the men into column of fours, and dressing the lines so that in a short time the cohort was formed up, at ease, and ready to move off. Cato