Copyright © 2019 Simon Scarrow
The right of Simon Scarrow to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
Apart from any use permitted under UK copyright law, this publication may only be reproduced, stored, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means, with prior permission in writing of the publishers or, in the case of reprographic production, in accordance with the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency.
First published in Great Britain in 2019
by HEADLINE PUBLISHING GROUP
First published as an Ebook in 2019
by HEADLINE PUBLISHING GROUP
All characters – other than the obvious historical figures – in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Cataloguing in Publication Data is available from the British Library
Ebook conversion by Avon DataSet Ltd, Bidford-on-Avon, Warwickshire
eISBN: 978 1 4722 5838 0
Cover illustration by Larry Rostant
HEADLINE PUBLISHING GROUP
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Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
About the Author
Also by Simon Scarrow
Praise
About the Book
Dedication
Map of the Frontier
Cast List
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Discover more action-packed novels by Simon Scarrow . . .
About the Author
Simon Scarrow has been passionate about writing since an early age. After a childhood spent travelling the world, he pursued his great love of history as a teacher before becoming a full-time writer. His Roman soldier heroes Cato and Macro first appeared in 2000 in UNDER THE EAGLE, and have subsequently fought their way through many bestselling novels, including THE BLOOD OF ROME, DAY OF THE CAESARS and THE GLADIATOR.
Simon Scarrow is also the author of the novels YOUNG BLOODS, THE GENERALS, FIRE AND SWORD and THE FIELDS OF DEATH, chronicling the lives of the Duke of Wellington and Napoleon Bonaparte, and of SWORD & SCIMITAR, the epic tale of the 1565 Siege of Malta, as well as HEARTS OF STONE, set in Greece during the Second World War. He is the co-author with T. J. Andrews of Roman era bestsellers PIRATA, INVADER and ARENA, and the co-author with Lee Francis of the contemporary thriller PLAYING WITH DEATH.
To find out more about Simon Scarrow and his novels, visit www.simonscarrow.co.uk and www.catoandmacro.com.
@SimonScarrow
/OfficialSimonScarrow
By Simon Scarrow
The Eagles of the Empire Series
The Britannia Campaign
Under the Eagle (AD 42–43, Britannia)
The Eagle’s Conquest (AD 43, Britannia)
When the Eagle Hunts (AD 44, Britannia)
The Eagle and the Wolves (AD 44, Britannia)
The Eagle’s Prey (AD 44, Britannia)
Rome and the Eastern Provinces
The Eagle’s Prophecy (AD 45, Rome)
The Eagle in the Sand (AD 46, Judaea)
Centurion (AD 46, Syria)
The Mediterranean
The Gladiator (AD 48–49, Crete)
The Legion (AD 49, Egypt)
Praetorian (AD 51, Rome)
The Return to Britannia
The Blood Crows (AD 51, Britannia)
Brothers in Blood (AD 51, Britannia)
Britannia (AD 52, Britannia)
Hispania
Invictus (AD 54, Hispania)
The Return to Rome
Day of the Caesars (AD 54, Rome)
The Eastern Campaign
The Blood of Rome (AD 55, Armenia)
Traitors of Rome (AD 56, Syria)
The Wellington and Napoleon Quartet
Young Bloods
The Generals
Fire and Sword
The Fields of Death
Sword and Scimitar
(Great Siege of Malta)
Hearts of Stone
(Second World War)
The Gladiator Series
Gladiator: Fight for Freedom
Gladiator: Street Fighter
Gladiator: Son of Spartacus
Gladiator: Vengeance
Writing with T. J. Andrews
Arena (AD 41, Rome)
Invader (AD 44, Britannia)
Pirata (AD 25, Adriatic)
Writing with Lee Francis
Playing With Death
Praise
‘Blood, gore, political intrigue . . . A historical fiction thriller that’ll have you reaching for your gladius’ Daily Sport
‘A new book in Simon Scarrow’s series about the Roman army is always a joy’ The Times
‘Gripping . . . ferocious and compelling, it is a story of blood, romance and sacrifice’ Daily Express
‘I really don’t need this kind of competition . . . It’s a great read’ Bernard Cornwell
‘A satisfyingly bloodthirsty, bawdy romp . . . perfect for Bernard Cornwell addicts who will relish its historical detail and fast-paced action. Storming stuff!’ Good Book Guide
‘Scarrow’s [novels] rank with the best’ Independent
‘A fast-moving and exceptionally well-paced historical thriller’ BBC History Magazine
‘Rollicking good fun’ Mail on Sunday
‘[Simon Scarrow] blends together the historical facts and characters to create a book that simply cannot be put down . . . Highly recommended’ Historical Novels Review
About the Book
AD 56. General Corbulo has assembled a force of 20,000 men to wage war on Parthia. The Second Praetorian cohort, commanded by veterans Tribune Cato and Centurion Macro, is ready for action. The auxiliary units, ill-equipped and barely trained, are not. Corbulo’s army cannot march before winter.
But the Parthians are on the move. The war lord Desert Hawk has attacked Rome’s outposts. What is his goal? And if he is aware of the weakened state of Rome’s troops, who is providing that information?
Cato is dispatched on an intelligence mission into Parthia. Even within h
is tiny unit of men a traitor may be lurking. Death seems almost certain. But at least Cato has left his old comrade Macro in the safety of the garrison. Or so he thinks . . . For Macro too is facing an unheralded challenge that will test his courage and skills to the very limit.
Traitors of Rome is dedicated to Anne and Mel Richmond, my beloved parents-in-law. Sadly, we lost Mel during the months this novel was being written. We miss his humour and hearty enjoyment of every day that life gave him . . .
Cast List
Quintus Licinius Cato: Tribune in command of the Second Cohort of the Praetorian Guard
Lucius Cornelius Macro: Senior centurion of the Second Cohort of the Praetorian Guard, a tough veteran
General Gnaeus Domitius Corbulo: Commander of the armies of the eastern Empire and tasked with the challenge of taming Parthia, while not being given the necessary resources to do so
Apollonius of Perga: an agent of General Corbulo, and aide to Cato. Transparently a shrewd and devious man, with an opaque past
Lucius: son of Cato, a delightful young boy raised amongst soldiers and picking up some of their language, alas . . .
Licinia Petronella: bride-to-be of Macro, formerly Cato’s slave. A stongly built woman with equally strong opinions
Cassius: a feral dog rescued from the wild in Armenia, now devoted to Cato and prone to terrifying those who are taken in by his fearsome appearance
Second Praetorian Cohort
Centurions: Ignatius, Nicolis, Placinus, Porcino, Metellus
Optios: Pantellus, Pelius, Marcellus
Fourth Syrian Cohort
Prefect Paccius Orfitus: recently promoted commander of the unit. A thrusting glory hunter
Centurion: Mardonius
Optios: Phochus, Laecinus
Macedonian Cavalry Cohort
Decurion: Spathos
Sixth Legion
Centurions: Pullinus, Piso
Optio/Acting Centurion: Martinus
Legionary: Pindarus
Legionary Selenus: an unfortunately hungry veteran
Others
Prefect Clodius: the edgy commander of the First Dacian Auxiliary Cohort watching over the frontier at Bactris
Graniculus: Quartermaster at Bactris. A content horticulturalist hoping for peace
King Vologases: King of Parthia, the ‘King of Kings’ and keen to impress on his subjects that the price of treachery is an agonising death.
Haghrar, of the House of Attaran: A prince of Ichnae, also known as Desert Hawk, treading delicately in the lethal world of court politics
Ramalanes: a captain of the Royal Palace Guard
Democles: a river boat captain who always has an eye open to fiscal advancement
Patrakis: river boat crewman
Pericles: an innkeeper who wishes that his customers always settled their bills in full
Ordones: spokesman for the people of Thapsis
Centurion Munius: Centurion in charge of the engineering detachment, with the thankless task of building a bridge over a raging torrent
Mendacem Pharageus: a professional rabble rouser
Legionary Borenus: another rabble rouser who may not be all that he seems
CHAPTER ONE
Autumn AD 56
‘Here they come,’ Centurion Macro muttered as he gazed towards the far side of the training ground, where a small cloud of dust indicated the approach of a column of soldiers. He finished chewing the end of an aniseed twig and tossed the frayed length aside, then spat to clear the fibrous pulp from his mouth. He turned to see his superior leaning back against the trunk of a nearby cedar tree, dozing in the shade. Tribune Cato was a slender man in his late twenties. His dark hair had been cropped short the day before and the stubble made him look like a recruit. In slumber, his face would have looked serene and youthful were it not for the white scar tissue scoring a ragged diagonal line from his forehead across his brow and down his right cheek. He was a veteran of many campaigns and he looked the part. Beside him lay his dog, Cassius, a large, wild-looking beast with wiry brown fur. One of its ears had been mauled at some point before Cato had taken the animal on a year before, when they had been campaigning in Armenia. It rested its head in Cato’s lap, and every so often its tail swished a little in contentment.
Macro regarded Cato in silence for a moment. Although he had served for twice as long as the younger man, he had come to recognise that experience was not everything. A good officer had to have brains as well. And brawn, he added to his shortlist. The latter Cato may have lacked, but he made up for it with courage and resilience. As for himself, Macro readily accepted that experience and brawn were his main qualities. He smiled as he reflected on the reasons why he and Cato had been close friends as long as they had. They each made up for the one quality the other was deficient in. It had served them well for nearly fifteen years, as they had fought through campaigns across the Roman Empire, from the freezing banks of the Rhine to the baking deserts of the eastern frontier. The two officers had an enviable record, and the scars to show that they had shed blood for Rome.
However, Macro had begun to wonder how much longer he could tempt the Fates. They had spared him thus far, but there must come a time when even their indulgence would be exhausted. Whether his death was dealt by an enemy’s sword, spear or arrow, or by something inglorious like a fall from a horse or sickness, he could sense the moment drawing closer. What he feared even more was a crippling injury that would leave him less than a man for the rest of his years.
He frowned at such morose thoughts. Five years ago he would never have entertained them. But now he was conscious that his muscles felt stiff in the morning, and there was a painful twinge in his knees at the end of a hard day’s marching. Worse still, he no longer moved as swiftly as he did in his prime. That should come as no surprise. After all, he reminded himself, he had already served with the army for over twenty-six years. He was entitled to request his discharge and take his bounty and the grant of a small plot of land, as was his due, and settle into retirement. That he had chosen not to do so was simply because he had not been able to imagine a life outside of the army. It was his home, and Cato and the others were his family.
But now he had a woman in his life.
He smiled as his mind filled with the image of Petronella; bold, brassy and beautiful in precisely the way that Macro valued beauty. She was well-built, with dark eyes set in a round face, and while her tongue could be sharp, her hearty laugh warmed his heart through and through. It was partly because of her, and partly because of the burden of his years, that Macro was now giving more and more thought to the notion of retiring from the army. And yet he felt guilty when he caught himself contemplating applying for a discharge. It was as if he was betraying the men under his command and, more importantly, letting down his friend, Tribune Cato.
He would have brooded on this more, but there was no time for that now. There was work to be done.
Macro cleared his throat as he approached the tribune. ‘Sir, the Syrian lads have arrived.’
Cato opened his eyes, then blinked at the bright sunlight just beyond the boughs of the cedar tree. The dog raised its head and looked up questioningly. Cato gave it a brief pat on its neck, then eased himself up onto his feet and stretched his shoulders as he made a quick mental calculation. ‘They’ve taken their time. They were supposed to be here at noon. That was at least an hour ago.’
The two officers squinted across the expanse of dry ground stretching out from the treeline. The auxiliaries of the Fourth Syrian Cohort were tramping along the track that led from the city of Tarsus to the training area. They were just one of the units from the army that was being assembled by General Corbulo to wage war on Rome’s long-standing eastern enemy, Parthia. Several auxiliary cohorts and two legions were in camp outside Tarsus, over twenty thousand men in all. It would have bee
n an impressive figure, Cato reflected, were it not for the poor quality of most of the men and their equipment. Consequently there was no question of the campaign beginning until spring, at the earliest. In the meantime, Corbulo had given instructions for his men to train hard while equipment and stocks of food were gathered in to supply the army.
For its part, the Syrian cohort had been ordered to make a ten-mile route march in the country surrounding the city before heading to the training ground to carry out a mock attack on a stretch of defences that Cato’s men had erected a short distance to his right. It measured a hundred paces end to end, with a gate halfway along its length. Already the men of the Second Praetorian Cohort were emerging from the shade to take their positions along the packed earth rampart that ran behind the timber palisade. In front of them was a ditch that completed the defences.
Cato looked over his men with an experienced eye and felt a familiar surge of pride swell in his heart. These soldiers, in their off-white tunics and segmented armour, were without doubt the finest men serving in General Corbulo’s army. They had already proved their worth fighting in Spain, and in the previous year’s campaign in Armenia. The thought of the latter caused Cato’s pride to subside as he recalled the men he had lost in a bid to place a Roman sympathiser on the Armenian throne. The three hundred survivors represented just over half the number that had marched out of their barracks on the edge of Rome when the cohort had been sent east to act as Corbulo’s bodyguard. When they eventually returned to the city, there would be much grieving for their families, as well as the need to find replacements for training.
Hopefully, Cato reflected, that training would proceed more swiftly than was the case with the units of the Eastern Empire. For too long they had served as garrison troops, keeping order amongst the local people and ensuring that taxes were collected. Very few of them had ever been on campaign, and they lacked fitness and experience of battle. Corbulo had spent the last year gathering his forces for the coming invasion of Parthia, and many of the men were ill-equipped and unready for war. The Syrian auxiliaries tramping towards the Praetorians were typical of the poor calibre of men under the general’s command.
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