But it wasn’t over yet. Brutus and Maximus had only been slowed by the gate, not stopped. With those shields still in place, they hit the terrified, unprepared guards like wooden balls hitting skittles, sending them flying to the ground. In moments, the rest of the men were on the stunned enemies, thumping them and knocking them out while dog bit any man he could find lying down, clearly having a great deal of fun in the process.
By the time Callie had counted to forty they were moving again, running up the hill towards the Minotaur Inn. This time they did not take a long way round, and ran straight past the villa. The alarm had already been given and the great house was in an uproar, men shouting and running around.
As they climbed the slope towards the town, Scriptor looked down at the children and frowned at what he saw. Marcus’ face was now furious, set and determined.
‘What is it?’ he asked, concerned.
‘When we get to the inn,’ Marcus replied, ‘I need to find a boy called Dion and give him a thump. He’s the one who set the trap in the ruins for us.’
His uncle shook his head. We haven’t time. Besides, this whole town is full of people who would have sold you out to the Minoan. They are all scared of him. Revenge is not a good thing, Marcus. It never ends well. Forget about this Dion and let him go.’
They reached the inn quickly, and Marcus and Callie were left in the courtyard while the men found their kit and armed themselves ready, and Scriptor and Gallo found the fastest horses available and saddled them ready for the journey. Despite what his uncle said, Marcus found himself prowling around the stables and outhouses, Callie close behind. He found Dion, cowering in the same hayloft where they had first spoken. The boy was terrified and dirty, tears having carved clean lines through the muck on his face. At the sight of him, Marcus’ anger vanished instantly. His uncle had been right. The wretch had just been doing what he thought would keep him safe and alive.
‘Don’t kill me,’ Dion pleaded.
The boy flinched as Marcus’ arm reached out, but he shook in surprise as no punch came, and instead Marcus simply ripped his money purse back off the boy’s belt.
‘Mine, I think. Get out of my sight.’
Dion ran and Marcus turned, tying the purse to his own belt. Callie was behind him still, smiling. ‘That was good, Marcus. I’m proud of you. And I’ve been thinking about the trap we need to set in Gortyn. You’ve given me an idea. It will need some work, but I’ll think on it as we travel.’
Marcus nodded and straightened, yawning, as their uncle brought the sleek, expensive horses out of the stable. None of them had slept for two days, and the exhaustion was closing in on him, but it was far from over yet. He wondered whether he could sleep in the saddle and decided, on reflection, that right now he could sleep standing on a chimney.
Chapter Eleven
Callie’s journal:
We have returned to Gortyn, leaving Senex and most of the men to devise a way to delay the Minoan leaving his villa and coming to the city. Marcus seemed not to have much faith in their success, but old Senex is not only knowledgeable, he is also devious, so I was always sure he would succeed. We had been back in the city for more than a day before we received word that the villain was on his way, so Senex and his men must have succeeded. Reports have been heard around the city about a new frightening bandit clan up in the hills, and it seems very likely that these bandits are our friends in disguise. Anyway, having been back in town this long has allowed the five of us to sleep in turn and recover our strength. We are all ready, and so is the trap. All we need now is for the enemy to walk into it. Like wily old Senex, and with the help of the governor’s men, I still have a couple of tricks up my sleeve.
Marcus fretted as he sat at the window and watched. Next to him, Callie seemed remarkably calm and relaxed, sure of herself. In fact, she had opened her journal and was scribbling away, her tongue poking out of the corner of her mouth in concentration.
The trap was ready. It had been Callie’s idea, of course, and even Marcus had to grudgingly admit that it was a pretty good one. Greed would be the lure, she had said, and Marcus had nodded but felt less confident in it himself. Greed had been supposed to keep Dion dealing straight with them, and that hadn’t worked. Still, they were committed now and, whatever misgivings he might have about the plan, he couldn’t come up with anything better himself.
The door to the room opened behind them and Uncle Scriptor entered, carrying a tray bearing three jugs and five cups. Wine and water for the grown-ups and fruit juice for Marcus and Callie. There were some benefits to using a tavern to wait in. The standard bearer also pulled a piece of bread from his pouch and threw it to Dog, who lay on the room’s floor, twitching as he dreamed of chasing something.
Opposite, the governor’s palace sat gleaming in the hot sun of the late Cretan morning.
‘Any sign?’ asked their uncle as he poured drinks and roused Potens and Centurion Gallo, who were both catching up on their sleep again.
‘Not yet,’ Marcus replied. ‘I’m getting worried they’re not going to show.’
‘They’ll show,’ Uncle Scriptor smiled. ‘It’s too much of a prize not to. But the Minoan is clever and careful, so they’re hardly going to make it obvious.’
Marcus nodded. They had gone straight to see the governor with their plan as soon as they arrived in the city and he had swiftly agreed, though he had winced at the price he would have to pay to bring the Minoan to justice. Still, he had agreed to everything they had asked and had even put his men at their disposal. Gallo and Potens had immediately made sure to put a soldier in disguise at every road into the city to watch for the Minoan while Callie and Scriptor went over a few last moment details with the governor.
The Minoan had arrived late last night. One of the watchmen had hurried to the inn to tell Centurion Gallo. The Minoan, with twenty or more men, had arrived and gone straight to a large house he owned in Gortyn near the public baths. The watchmen had reassigned themselves and were now keeping an eye on that big town house, waiting for the villain to make a move.
It was too much of a gamble for Marcus’ liking.
What if the Minoan didn’t hear the news that was circulating in the city? What if he decided it was too dangerous to act? What if he just didn’t care? Or what if he left it so long his pirates could do the job for him?
Callie had just shaken her head at his worries. All would go according to plan.
‘Here comes the caravan,’ Marcus said quietly, pointing down the street. Two vehicles were bumping and trundling towards the governor’s palace, one an open cart and the other a covered wagon. Both were pulled by horses rather than the more common oxen or donkeys, showing just how important this was. Another clue to the value of the caravan was the dozen cavalrymen in chain mail shirts with shields and spears who escorted the empty wagons, all gleaming steel and bright clean tunics and cloaks.
‘Still no word from the Minoan’s house?’ Gallo mumbled, rubbing his eyes wearily and sitting upright.
‘No. But his house is being watched from every side. As soon as he moves we will know about it,’ Scriptor replied. ‘Look at these cavalry. They’re not legionary cavalry. Governor’s private army. They look nice, but I’d bet not one of them could hit a barn door with a spear if his life depended on it.’
‘I think the Minoan hasn’t heard about this,’ Marcus said quietly, voicing one of his worries.
‘A man like the Minoan hears about everything,’ Gallo replied. ‘I’d bet he knew about it before he even got to Gortyn.’ He turned to Scriptor. ‘The cavalry officer seemed alright. We’ll just have to hope his men are up to the job.’
They fell silent, watching what was happening across the street at the governor’s residence. A team of slaves, under the watchful eyes of several soldiers, was pushing a wooden trolley out of the palace gate, its four wooden wheels clonking and squeaking under the weight. Marcus whistled through his teeth at the sight.
A bronze statue, taller t
han any man, stood on the wooden cart, held in place with ten different ropes. The statue was so heavy that the trolley was almost collapsing under the weight, and the slaves were sweating and groaning as they heaved and pushed. The statue was of a naked man with wild hair and a big beard being attacked by giant snakes, with two smaller men struggling to help him. It made Marcus shiver just to look at it.
‘This is the governor’s most expensive artwork?’ Gallo murmured in surprise. ‘It’s horrible.’
‘But it is very well cast,’ Callie replied. ‘It is, in fact, priceless. It is a statue of the priest Laocoön and his sons being attacked by serpents during the Trojan war. Even the marble copy of this statue that was made three hundred years ago in Rhodes is priceless. That copy is in the imperial palace in Rome. But this is the original that it was copied from, made in Pergamon hundreds of years earlier. It is one of the most precious things in the world.’
Potens, scratching his head and yawning, appeared at the window. ‘A prize the Minoan can hardly ignore.’
They watched carefully as the immense, heavy, priceless bronze sculpture was lifted from the trolley using a wooden frame and several ropes, swung across to the open wagon and then a cover was put up, using wooden arches as a frame and a canvas over the top, pegged down. It was a slow job, and took a while. The five watchers sat or stood at the inn window, sipping their drinks and watching the work. Once the cart was loaded the governor himself, a great big balloon shape in a sweaty toga with a shiny pink head, emerged from the gate to watch the column prepare to depart. He called over the officer of the soldiers and gave him a few extra instructions, then stood back.
Even from here, Marcus could see how nervous he was. If anything went wrong and the statue was lost, the cost to him would be horrifying. Worse, in a way, he was never going to see his precious sculpture again anyway.
The rumour had circulated quickly around Gortyn as soon as they had agreed the plan with the governor. The nobleman’s most prized sculpture was to be sent to Rome as a gift for the new emperor, Hadrian. Of course, it was all purely meant to tempt the Minoan into trying to steal it as he had with so many other artworks, but whatever happened now, the statue would never come back to this palace. News had spread of the gift, and now the statue would have to go to Rome anyway, for sooner or later Hadrian would hear about it and would expect to see it.
‘Why haven’t we heard anything from the Minoan’s house?’ grumbled Marcus. ‘Surely he should be moving by now? The statue is about to leave.’
‘Calm, brother,’ Callie said with a smile. ‘The Minoan can hardly steal the statue in broad daylight in front of the governor’s palace, can he? He is too clever for that. All will be well.’
But it didn’t stop Marcus worrying. His eyes passed across everything in sight, taking in the caravan, its soldier escort, the slaves recovering their breath after their exertions, the unhappy-looking governor, the man on the balcony watching…
Marcus frowned. He narrowed his eyes, squinting into the bright sunlight. Lots of people were watching the activity, of course. It wasn’t every day you got a chance to see one of the most precious artworks in the world, even if it is just being moved from a building to a wagon. But there was something about that watcher that nagged at Marcus.
‘Centurion?’
‘Yes?’
‘Do you remember the captain of the Minoan’s guards?’
Gallo’s face darkened. ‘Leontes. Yes. I won’t forget him in a hurry.’
‘Is that not him standing on the balcony above the wagons?’
All their eyes now strayed up to where Marcus had been looking, and they all widened in surprise.
‘I would say that’s definitely him,’ Gallo replied in a growl, through gritted teeth.
‘What’s he doing there?’ Potens pondered. ‘Shouldn’t he be in the house with the Minoan?’
‘Perhaps he arrived separately?’ Callie mused. ‘The watchmen we set were only looking for the Minoan, not his men.’
Centurion Gallo shook his head. ‘I don’t think so. If Senex and the others had caused enough trouble back at Cnossus to delay him, then the Minoan would probably keep his guards close. But if Leontes has managed to get out of the town house without being seen by our men, then that means anyone could have done the same.’
Across the road, Leontes took a last look at the convoy and disappeared inside the building.
‘Something’s wrong,’ Scriptor said quietly. ‘We were supposed to know where the Minoan and his men were at all times, but if Leontes is wandering about freely, then we can’t be sure where anyone is. Should we have the watchmen search the town house?’
Gallo shook his head. ‘Then we run the risk of warning him that we’re here and watching him.’
‘If they’re sneaking out of the house, they might already know that.’
‘Whatever the case,’ Potens murmured, ‘what do we do from here? If we follow the caravan, there’s a good chance that the Minoan and his men will see us. But if we don’t then we won’t be there when he strikes, and Leontes watching them load makes it fairly certain that the villain now knows about the sculpture and intends to take it. We can’t afford to let him see us. Any of them, in fact. The Minoan and many of his men will remember us from Cnossus, and if they see us they will know it’s a trap.’
‘Then we’ll have to hide in the wagons,’ Marcus said.
‘What?’
‘The wagon with the statue in is covered and so is the other one. We can hide in them and not be seen, but still be there when they try to steal it. The soldiers and their officer are witnesses to anything, so we can arrest the Minoan and his men wherever they try.’
Gallo nodded with a grim smile. ‘He’s right. My only worry is that if we get to Lebena without them trying, we’ll have to load it on the ship and then it’s at the mercy of his pirates. Anything could happen then, and it only takes the bronze to go over the side of the ship and all the evidence would be lost. We have to hope he tries before then.’
‘He’ll have to try before Lebena,’ Callie replied. ‘Or he won’t get the chance at all. There’s a surprise waiting for them at the port. You’ll see what I mean when we get there, but he’ll try anyway. Believe me.’
The others, apart from Scriptor, turned a frown to the girl, who just gave a knowing smile.
‘Alright,’ the centurion sighed. ‘Let’s get down there. Keep an eye out for Leontes or his men. We want to do this without being seen by them if possible.’
The five of them left the room, Callie pausing to ruffle Dog’s head and wake him up on the way, and then they hurried down the stairs and out of the inn. It was late morning and the sun was already high, but off to the south at this time of year, so the shadows cast by the tall buildings over the narrow streets were deep and dark. The five people and one dog emerged into the rear of a crowd of citizens who had gathered to watch the interesting spectacle.
Slowly, carefully, they moved through the crowd, shuffling along the side of the street, then crossing it some way down away from the action. Then they pushed their way back up the side of the governor’s palace complex, past the records office they had attended the other day, and then round the corner. The crowd was even thicker here, with citizens watching one of the world’s most precious statues preparing to depart for Rome.
Finally, checking they were all still together, they reached the archway to the governor’s palace and Centurion Gallo shoved ahead, drawing angry words from the people he pushed past. Finally, reaching the caravan, he gestured to the officer, thankful that the man was the one they had already spoken to during the planning with the governor. Whether the riders were good soldiers or just good-looking ones, the officer at least was an experienced soldier. The man looked surprised for a moment, and then nodded.
‘Centurion. Any sign of trouble yet?’
‘No,’ Gallo replied. ‘And we don’t think there will be in Gortyn. They’ll try somewhere between here and Lebena. We need to
come with you. Can you get us in your spare wagon without too much fuss? We might be being watched even now.’
‘We don’t have a spare wagon, Gallo. The other one is full. But if you don’t mind sharing with the statue, there’ll be room in that wagon for you?’
The centurion, intrigued about the second wagon, nodded and waved the others over. Hurrying into the shadow cast by the vehicle, he edged round it until he could see across the street. The balcony where they had spotted Leontes was still empty and a quick scan of the crowd across the street produced no sign of him. Likely he had reported back to the Minoan. Praying to Fortuna, the goddess of luck, Gallo grasped the back of the covered wagon and pulled himself inside, into the shade and out of view of the street. Waving to the others, he retreated deep into the wagon. Marcus, Callie, Scriptor and Potens hurried through the crowd, trying to stay as close to the wagon and hidden as possible, and then climbed in. Dog took a running jump and landed on the wooden boards of the wagon a moment later.
Outside, the officer started shouting out instructions to his men, the wagon drivers and the slaves who would have to walk behind the wagons. Centurion Gallo turned to the others.
‘We weren’t allowed in the other wagon. It’s not for the men or the slaves, but the cavalry commander told me it was full.’
Callie smiled, and the centurion glared at her.
‘More secrets?’ he asked.
‘Sometimes, sir, the fewer people who know about a surprise, the better it is.’
‘One thing you have to learn about the legions, young lady, is that it is not done to keep secrets from officers. We tend to take a dim view of that.’
Pirate Legion Page 10