The Emperor's Exile (Eagles of the Empire 19)

by Simon Scarrow

  Inside the command tent he shared a simple meal of stew and bread with Apollonius by the light of a pair of oil lamps.

  ‘How is our guide doing?’ asked Cato.

  ‘He’s in a great deal of pain, but he’ll live. Long enough for our needs at any rate.’

  ‘Where is he now?’

  ‘I’ve got him chained to the headquarters wagon outside.’

  ‘Under guard?’

  Apollonius nodded. ‘Not that he’s going to be able to attempt to escape. Even if his hands were in fit shape to free up the locking pin, he’s not going anywhere on what’s left of his feet.’

  ‘Make sure he understands that if he does not take us to their stronghold, or he leads us into a trap, he will be put to death. As painfully as possible.’

  ‘Don’t worry. He understands what’s at stake.’

  ‘Good.’ Cato pushed his mess tin aside, his meal unfinished.

  The agent gestured to it with his spoon. ‘Mind if I . . . ?’

  ‘Help yourself.’

  Apollonius scraped the leftovers into his own tin and took a few spoonfuls before fixing Cato with a searching look. ‘You fear for Claudia Acte.’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘She should be safe enough, assuming they think she is still the emperor’s mistress rather than another of his exiles. The brigands will look after her. She’s worth a lot more to them alive. The only time she might be in danger is if we break into their stronghold. Then they might choose to kill her as a final act of defiance.’

  ‘That’s what I fear,’ Cato conceded. ‘I cannot give in to any demands they might make, and I doubt they will surrender, so it looks as if we may have to take their position by force. If that’s the case, I need to find a way to get her out safely before the attack begins. Or at least have her moved somewhere safe within the stronghold until the fighting is over. That means we’ll need to have someone inside the defences who can locate and protect her. As things stand, I doubt we can count on one of the enemy to come over to our side. So it’ll be a case of sending someone in to do the job.’

  ‘Easier said than done, according to Calgarno. He claims there is only one way into the valley. Of course, he could be lying.’

  ‘Or there is a way he does not know about.’

  ‘If he doesn’t know about it, then how are we supposed to find such a route, even if it does exist?’

  ‘Quite . . . But unless we discover another way into the valley and get Claudia to safety, it’s almost certain she will die. I doubt Nero will take the news of her death well.’

  Apollonius clicked his tongue. ‘It’s no secret that your feelings for her are of more immediate consideration than the reaction of the man who cast her off. The real question is which do you consider a higher priority: saving her life or defeating the enemy?’

  Cato folded his hands together and rested his jaw on them. That was the nub of it. But Apollonius was wrong. There was no question of priorities as far as Cato’s duty was concerned. He looked up at his companion. ‘My orders are to defeat the enemy. If Claudia dies in the process, then I will have to answer for that to the emperor.’

  The agent bit his lip and an amused expression formed on his face. ‘I would have put money on you saying that. But I can’t help being a bit disappointed that you regard her life as the lesser priority.’

  ‘Oh?’ Cato felt the familiar apprehension at having Apollonius probe at his personality and thoughts.

  ‘You play the part of a soldier as well as the finest actor in Rome. It’s an accomplished performance. Yet you are a man who holds himself apart as far as pursuits of the mind go. You are a rational thinker, Prefect Cato, but more than that, I have suspected for a while now that you harbour a romantic streak. Not just for the love of a strong good woman, but for all the ideals you hold dear.’ He turned his face slightly as he gave Cato a challenging look. ‘Am I wrong?’

  ‘It is no performance. I am a soldier.’

  ‘And much more besides, else you would not have achieved all that you have.’

  Cato stirred, uncomfortable with the line the conversation was taking. He decided to turn it round. ‘And you, Apollonius? Do you ever question your own motives? Your own values? What are they, I wonder?’

  ‘I have very few values, because the more I have learned, the more I encounter questions and doubts rather than knowledge and answers. In such a world, a reasonable man realises that the honest thing to do is to be wary of values. I am an observer of life. I watch people. I listen to what they say they believe and then observe how they behave in practice. The correlation between the two is something of a rare commodity. The charlatans who control Rome pretend to others that they stand behind their words. You are cut from a different cloth. You don’t talk in terms of ideals, and often affect a cynical world-weariness, yet I believe you are really little more than a romantic idealist, disappointed that so few match up to the qualities you desire of them. For you, their moral failures are lapses, whereas for me they are the norm. Most people are wolves disguised as sheep. But you, Prefect Cato, with your values, are more like a sheep trying to pass itself off as a wolf. Frankly, I am fascinated to see how long you can carry that off. It’s a wonder that a man with your moral core has managed to survive as long as you have. I consider you something of a fascinating experiment in that regard. How far can a good man succeed in a corrupt world? I’d like to know the answer to that.’

  Cato took the agent’s comments in and then chuckled dismissively. ‘Stick around, Apollonius. Serve with me long enough and maybe some of it will rub off on you.’

  The agent’s expression remained thoughtful. ‘That’s what worries me.’

  At noon two days later, the column approached a formation of steep-sided hills that towered above the surrounding landscape. In many places sheer cliffs and crags rose to the ridgeline. The forest gave way to more open country dotted with scrub and stunted trees and rocks. After two days of marching along tracks bordered by ancient trees where ambushers might be waiting in the shadows, Cato and his men were relieved to enter less dangerous terrain.

  Their approach to the enemy’s stronghold would come as no surprise to the brigands, Cato reflected as he gazed up at the ridges. On the second day, the riders scouting ahead of the column had reported seeing distant groups of men watching them from hilltops. At first Cato had ordered that they be chased down, but by the time the mounted auxiliaries reached the spot where the enemy had been sighted, they had already fled and melted away amid the trees. After that, the Romans had been content to leave the enemy alone as they made for the lair of the King of the Mountains. Close to the range of hills, Cato could see tiny figures watching them from the safety of the ridge crests. If what Calgarno had told them was true, the enemy watch-keepers would be confident that the Roman column, like so many before it, would march past without ever being aware of the secret route into their hidden valley.

  ‘Bring the boy forward,’ he ordered.

  Apollonius urged his mount to Cato’s side and drew in the lead that was tied to the saddle of Calgarno’s donkey until the youth rode between them. Cato indicated the ridges.

  ‘This is the place you told us of. The enemy camp is in the valley on the far side, you say?’

  ‘My people, yes.’

  ‘Then now is the time for you to show us where the entrance to the valley is.’

  Calgarno made no comment, but sat in his saddle with his shoulders hunched.

  ‘You’ve brought us this far,’ Cato continued. ‘It’s too late to play dumb now. If you think you’ve suffered enough already, I can assure you that Apollonius knows even more painful methods of making you speak up. You’ll tell us all we need to know sooner or later; the only question you have to ask yourself is how much more torment you can endure before you give in. So, tell us where we must go.’

  ‘To the darkest depths of Hades!’ Calgarno snapped. He kicked his heels in, howling with pain as the shock of the impact jarred his toes, and u
rged his donkey forward, only to be drawn up sharply as the lead snapped taut and stopped the beast. The youth jerked frantically in his saddle, trying to break free, then slumped forward, his shoulders shaking violently as he wept. There was something profoundly ridiculous and pathetic about his attempt to escape, and Cato felt moved to pity and shame. He motioned Apollonius to leave the youth alone and edged his mount towards Calgarno, addressing him more gently.

  ‘You’re a brave lad and you have my respect. But you must know that you cannot escape us. I will not have you killed if you try, only punished. There is no honourable death for you now. You have already revealed too much for that. But you can live through this, and so can your people if they choose to surrender. Otherwise there is only death for all of you. Now cease your tears.’ Cato pointed to the end of the ridge a mile or so distant. ‘I imagine the entrance to the valley is not so far away, is it?’

  Calgarno nodded.

  ‘Good, then let’s find it and put an end to this business.’

  Cato glanced over his shoulder and gestured to Apollonius to come forward. ‘Keep him on a tighter lead from now on.’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  Late in the afternoon they reached the end of the ridge where it dropped precipitously into a large area of jumbled rock and craggy outcrops between which clumps of stunted trees grew on the dry, gritty soil. The towering rock formations seemed to continue unbroken before they rose to form another ridge almost parallel with the first. The track they had been following continued past the hills and turned east towards the coast.

  Cato halted the column and gave the order to make camp. As the officers bellowed at the auxiliaries, the men downed their marching yokes. Plancinus and one of the headquarters clerks marked out the limits of the camp on a more or less even stretch of ground two hundred paces away. Then, as one of the centuries and the mounted contingent were assigned picket duty around the site, their comrades set to work with their picks, breaking up the ground to dig out a ditch and using the spoil to form the rampart that acted as the second line of defence for the camp. A small stream ran out from amongst the rocks in a shallow cutting that passed close by the campsite; it would provide sufficient water for the men and horses.

  As the work progressed, Cato dismounted along with Apollonius and the prisoner and the three of them sat down on some rocks in the shadow of an ancient cork oak. Cato shared his canteen with Apollonius and then Calgarno. The latter was hesitant and Cato eased the canteen into his bandaged hands, now loosely bound. No such precaution was needed for his feet, as he could only manage a painful hobbling gait.

  ‘Go on,’ he urged. ‘It’s been a hot day and you could use a drink.’

  Calgarno raised the canteen carefully to his lips and took several mouthfuls before returning it to Cato with a grateful nod.

  They sat in silence, staring at the confusion of impenetrable-looking rock formations and the steep cliffs beyond. Cato wondered once again if their prisoner was leading them astray. It seemed improbable that such a place as he described existed. Maybe he was playing for time and directing them away from the stronghold. Perhaps he was braver than he appeared, Cato reflected as he studied the youth. Calgarno was staring away from the rocks towards the camp, his gaze fixed and unwavering and his body quite still. There was something unnatural about the pose, and for an instant Cato could not determine what was wrong. He glanced at Apollonius and saw that the agent was scrutinising the dramatic rocky landscape curiously. Then it hit him. Calgarno was studiously avoiding looking in the very direction that excited most attention.

  Cato cleared his throat and Apollonius turned to look at him. Cato gestured subtly at their prisoner and then spoke.

  ‘Calgarno, we’re at the entrance to the valley right here, aren’t we?’

  The youth did not reply, but gave a slight grimace that was enough to betray the truth.

  ‘Apollonius, bring me ten men.’

  The agent hurried over to the camp and returned shortly afterwards with the auxiliaries. Cato assigned one of them to guard the prisoner, then led Apollonius and the others towards where the rocks and trees began, a few hundred paces away. The sun hung low in the sky and the shadows were already stretching out some distance across the rose-hued landscape. As the sounds of the camp construction gradually faded behind them, they moved warily into the trees and threaded their way through the rocks and crags towards the point where the two ridges met. The crunch of their boots echoed off the rock faces and the trapped air was still and hot. There was little sign of life. The first of the evening’s bats flitted through the air like scraps of black cloth carried on a stiff breeze.

  ‘I’m not sure it’s wise for us to search this place mob-handed, sir,’ Apollonius commented quietly. ‘We’re making too much noise.’

  ‘True,’ Cato responded, and ordered the auxiliaries to halt. ‘Remain here. Don’t make any noise. If I call for you, come running. Otherwise wait.’

  He waved Apollonius ahead of him. ‘Two eyes are better than one.’

  They continued cautiously, eyes and ears scrutinising every shadow, every sound, but there was no sign of anything other than the handful of animals that lived in the vicinity. Fifty paces on, the way ahead was blocked by a low cliff, and Cato took a last look back as they made their way around its base and lost sight of the auxiliaries. On the far side they came across what looked like a goat track, meandering through the sparse vegetation.

  ‘Shall we follow it?’ asked Apollonius. ‘It seems to head in the right direction.’

  ‘Fair enough.’

  After a hundred paces or so, Cato became aware that there were cliffs rising up on either side of them, and he felt his heart beat more quickly as he and Apollonius crept forward. Suddenly the agent froze and snapped his hand up to halt him.

  All was quiet for a moment and Cato whispered, ‘What’s the matter?’

  ‘Shh. Listen.’ Apollonius cocked his head slightly. ‘There, do you hear it?’

  Cato could hear the faint pounding of blood in his head, and then . . . voices. Very faint, but still identifiable. They came from above and ahead, where the cliffs closed and seemed to come together.

  Moving slowly, the two men left the track and hugged the bottom of the rock face to their left. As they rounded a corner, a narrow gorge was revealed between the two cliffs. It ran for a short distance before starting to broaden out again, giving onto an open patch of ground that looked like a dried-up riverbed. Fifty paces away, a stone wall topped with a wooden palisade extended across the gap between the two cliffs for a distance of around sixty feet. There was an open gate in the middle of the wall with a walkway above it and a small tower on either side. Two men were on duty in the towers and two more stood inside the gatehouse. The structure was shaded by the cliff, as was the ground before it, and Cato eased himself into a crouch to try and stay out of sight as he examined the enemy’s defences. Then he turned to Apollonius with an excited expression.

  ‘We’ve found them!’

  Chapter Thirty-One

  There was a shout from high above, and Cato craned his neck to see a figure on the edge of the cliff pointing down at them. Those in the tower turned to scan the shadows at the foot of the cliff.

  ‘We have to go.’ Apollonius grasped his arm. ‘Now!’

  Already several men were gathering by the gate.

  ‘Just a moment,’ Cato replied, quickly looking over the defences and then the gorge around them, committing the details to memory. As he did so, the figures at the gate rushed out towards them.

  ‘Sir!’ Apollonius pulled him round and thrust him back the way they had come, and both men sprinted along the gorge, their pursuers racing after them. Cato could hear further shouts from the lookouts on top of the crags as they kept pace above.

  A short distance ahead was a fall of loose gravel, and Cato yelled a warning as he thrust the agent against the wall of the cliff. An instant later a rock the size of a large wine jar crashed to the ground near them.
As dust swirled round it, Cato thrust Apollonius forward and they continued to flee. The gorge widened for a stretch before it narrowed to four feet and then gave out onto the scattered rock formations and trees beyond. Cato could hear the footsteps of their pursuers echoing off the cliffs on either side, amplifying the sound and making it seem as if they were being chased from every direction. Another boulder, poorly aimed this time, struck the ground ten feet behind them, and he winced at the sound.

  They reached the end of the gap and cleared the gorge, racing on through the trees and round the rocks as the enemy steadily drew closer. Cato’s heart was beating wildly and his tired legs burned with the effort of running. He took a quick glance over his shoulder and saw that the brigands were fifty feet behind them. Through the trees ahead he glimpsed the camp, and the auxiliaries sitting on the ground as they shared a wineskin.

  A spear passed close overhead with a soft rush of air and clattered onto the ground.

  ‘Weave!’ Cato gasped at Apollonius, and both men began to dart in one direction, then another, to put off the aim of their pursuers. Another spear struck the ground close to Cato, the point burying itself in the loose soil. Apollonius had pulled ahead and now bellowed to the auxiliaries.

  ‘On me! On me!’

  They glanced round towards him and there was a heartbeat’s frozen surprise before they jumped to their feet, snatched up their shields and spears and charged towards the two officers and the enemy rapidly closing on them.

  ‘Come on, Cato!’ Apollonius called out. ‘One last effort!’

  At that moment, Cato felt a glancing blow on his side as another spear passed under his arm and dropped away, its energy spent. The impact spun him slightly round, enough for his trailing leg to trip over the other calf. He fell heavily and rolled over, the breath driven from his lungs. As he scrambled to his feet and fumbled for his sword, Apollonius turned, drew his weapon and sprang forward to put himself between Cato and the enemy. The brigands, elated at knocking Cato down, let out triumphant whoops as they charged on, then slowed uncertainly as they saw Apollonius, feet braced and sword ready in one hand as he drew a dagger with the other.