The Legion

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The Legion Page 16

by Simon Scarrow


  There was a cough and they both turned to see the priest standing a short distance away watching them. Cato was not sure how much Hamedes had heard and cleared his throat awkwardly.

  ‘You’ve completed your rites, then?’

  ‘Yes, I did what I could under the circumstances. I pray that the gods permit them entry to the afterlife.’

  ‘Hmmm, yes, well, I’m sure you’ve done your best for them.’ Cato looked up and saw that there was a faint loom of pearly grey in the mist. ‘It’ll be light soon. We’d best get the men ready to march.’

  The column continued along the path in the pallid dawn. Cato and Macro went ahead with two sections of legionaries and Hamedes. They stayed close to the head of the main column in case the full force was needed in a hurry. Centurion Rufus followed up with the wounded, and an escort of marines.

  A light breeze had picked up and rustled the leaves of the palms growing in clumps along the path. The mangrove soon gave way to swathes of reeds on either side but there was no sign that Ajax and his men had left the path and Cato led his men on, alert for any hint of trouble. As dawn came and the sun rose into the hazy sky, the mist began to lift and an hour or so later the reeds gave way to cleared areas where fields of wheat were fed with water from irrigation ditches. In the distance they caught the gleam of a broad expanse of water.

  ‘That’s one of the Nile tributaries,’ Hamedes explained. ‘We should find a settlement on the bank soon enough.’

  ‘Like that, over there?’ Macro pointed and Hamedes and Cato looked ahead to where smoke smudged into the sky. Macro frowned. ‘That’s not cooking smoke. That’s a fire.’

  Cato felt his heart sink at the thought of another village laid waste by Ajax and his men. ‘Come on, let’s pick up the pace,’ he ordered, and the advance party lengthened their stride as the path changed direction through the tall grass and date palms and headed straight for the cloud of smoke. As they passed by more fields they could see the roofs of houses ahead, and hear the crackle of flame and then screams and shouts and Cato felt his guts tighten with bitter hatred for the gladiator. The path had broadened into a cart track and they approached the entrance to the village, another huddle of mud-brick buildings, some with additional walls to pen their donkeys, goats, cattle and chickens. A handful of people in the narrow street winding into the village turned at the sound of heavy boots and ran into their houses as soon as they caught sight of the Romans.

  ‘Good spot for another ambush,’ Macro commented as he considered the narrow street with alleys leading off it.

  ‘If Ajax was still here, then those people wouldn’t be,’ Cato pointed out.

  They emerged into an open space where a few market stalls stood. Beyond, a stretch of bare earth sloped down to the river. The remains of a handful of reed boats lay smouldering on the shore and a small crowd of natives stood in a cluster, wailing and crying. Cato led his men to the top of the riverbank and halted them, before continuing towards the villagers with Macro and Hamedes. The small crowd nervously parted before him and Cato saw several men sprawled on the ground, lying in their own blood which had poured from gashes in their bodies. Some women, slumped on their knees, leaned over the men, crying inconsolably.

  ‘Looks like Ajax’s work,’ said Macro.

  ‘Hamedes,’ Cato gestured towards the crowd, ‘ask them what happened.’

  The priest approached them with open hands and there was a short exchange before he turned back to Cato.

  ‘The villagers say that a column of armed men arrived here at dawn and took as many boats as they needed and set fire to the rest. These men tried to stop them, and were killed.’

  ‘Must have been Ajax,’ Cato decided. ‘Ask them which way he went.’

  Hamedes turned and spoke briefly before pointing upriver. ‘That way, sir. You can still see them.’

  Cato turned quickly to stare upriver. This stretch of the tributary meandered in a fairly gentle manner to the south and there, perhaps two miles away, he could see a handful of tiny fishing boats on the surface of the river, just about to disappear from sight around a bend in the river.

  ‘Ask them if there are any other boats here, or nearby.’

  ‘None,’ Hamedes translated.

  ‘What about another village?’

  ‘There is one, half a day’s march, downriver.’

  ‘The wrong direction,’ Macro growled. ‘The bastard’s given us the slip again.’

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  ‘This is not a very satisfactory state of affairs, is it, Prefect?’ Governor Petronius tapped his finger on the report he had demanded of Cato the moment the small convoy had reached Alexandria. Even though Cato had secured some boats as soon as possible to pursue Ajax further up the Nile delta, he had lost track of him. They stopped at every village to question the locals and although a small group of reed boats had been discovered abandoned some forty miles north of Memphis, that was the last hint of the direction Ajax and his band had taken. Cato had continued to Memphis, whose inhabitants were greatly alarmed by the Nubian advance further up the Nile. Cato had commandeered one of the wide, flat-bottomed sailing vessels that plied the great river and set sail for Alexandria to make his report.

  Cato stood in front of the governor’s desk and considered how best to respond to such a rhetorical question.

  ‘Sir, the fact is that we discovered Ajax’s base of operations and succeeded in putting it out of action. We took his ships and accounted for over two hundred of his men. He has between forty and fifty followers left. However, I fear that he still poses a considerable threat to the Empire. I shall, of course, continue to pursue him but I will need to have your warrant to ensure the cooperation of the province’s officials along the Nile. In addition, I will need men to complete the task. A mounted cohort should suffice.’

  Petronius let out a bitter laugh. ‘A mounted cohort, you say? A modest request, you might think. But tell me, after having lost one of my warships and its entire crew, as well as thirty of my legionaries, what makes you think I would be prepared to entrust you with any more men? Well?’

  ‘You can’t afford not to, sir.’

  ‘Oh, I think I can afford not to. Especially when my forces are thinly stretched as it is. The Nubians have already advanced as far as the first cataract. That fool, Legate Candidus, sent three of his auxiliary cohorts to intercept the Nubian vanguard. They were crushed. I gather barely half of them managed to escape.’

  ‘That is what I heard at Memphis, sir.’

  ‘Then you will appreciate why I seem reticent to lend any more troops to you. Hunting this gladiator down is no longer a priority. I need to concentrate all available forces to strike at the Nubians, and drive them out of the province.’

  ‘I understand, sir, but if we fail to destroy Ajax then you can be sure that he will continue his private war against Rome. He has already nearly cost the Emperor the province of Crete as well as disrupting the sea trade in the eastern Mediterranean. He cannot be permitted to trouble the Empire any longer.’

  ‘Nor will he, once the Nubians have been repulsed. Then, and only then, will I even consider providing you with any more resources to track down this criminal. Do you understand?’

  ‘Yes, sir. I just don’t agree with you.’

  ‘Disagreement is not a privilege that a subordinate can exercise, Prefect,’ Petronius snapped. ‘I am the supreme power here in Egypt. I act in the name of the Emperor and while you are here in my province, you will do as I instruct. That is the end of the matter.’ He paused and smiled coldly. ‘Well, not quite.’

  Cato stood still and silent, waiting for the governor to elaborate.

  Petronius rose from his desk and crossed his study to the opposite wall where a long map of the Nile had been painted, from the delta all the way into southern Egypt. Beyond the line marking the frontier, the details were few. He reached up and tapped the map.

  ‘Candidus is concentrating his forces at Diospolis Magna. In addition to the Twenty-
Second Legion, he has two infantry cohorts of auxiliaries and two cavalry cohorts. That is all that can be spared. I have scraped together every spare man that I can to join the army. Now it seems that Candidus is short of a number of officers. His senior tribune was the officer commanding the auxiliary force defeated by the Nubians. He was killed in the fight. Candidus is also short of the full complement of centurions. Several of them were on detachment to frontier posts acting as magistrates. They were lost when the Nubians crossed the border.’ Petronius turned round to face Cato. ‘It is my decision to attach you and Centurion Macro to the Twenty-Second Legion for the duration of the present emergency.’

  Cato had seen it coming and had already prepared his answer. ‘I’m sorry, sir, but I have my orders from Governor Sempronius. I am to seek and destroy the slave Ajax and his followers. Until that is achieved I am not free to carry out any other duties.’

  Petronius’s expression hardened. ‘How dare you address me so haughtily, you upstart little prig. Who the hell do you think you are? You are an over-promoted junior officer. There is not a drop of noble blood in your veins. You have no family or connections in Rome worth a bent sestertius. You are nothing more than Sempronius’s little pet. You would do well to remember that.’

  ‘I hold the commission of prefect, sir.’

  ‘Oh, you may well hold the rank of prefect, for now, but your patron won’t be able to save you from cocking up one day soon. Then you’ll be broken back down to a rank more suited to your lack of years and experience.’

  ‘Be that as it may, for now I am under the orders of Senator Sempronius.’

  ‘You forget yourself, Prefect.’ Petronius smiled. ‘In Egypt I act in the name of the Emperor. There is no higher authority. If I give you a command, it is as if Claudius himself gave it. Is that not true?’

  Cato pursed his lips. The governor was correct. He had the authority to do as he pleased, until recalled to Rome. He could overrule the orders of Sempronius if he wished and there was nothing Cato could do about it. ‘Yes, sir. That’s right.’

  Petronius nodded his head. ‘Then the matter is decided. You, and Centurion Macro, will leave for Diospolis Magna immediately. My chief of staff has already prepared your letters of appointment. You can collect them as you leave my offices. Any questions?’

  ‘Yes, sir. May I take it that once the campaign against the Nubians is over, you will authorise me to renew the hunt for Ajax?’

  ‘As you wish.’ Petronius shrugged. ‘However, I suspect that it will be some months before the Nubians have been dealt with. Unless the gladiator is a complete fool he will have fled the province long before then. If not, then I will be sure to consider any request you make. Now, Prefect, you are dismissed.’

  ‘So, how did it go?’ Macro asked as he slid a cup across the table to Cato and poured him some wine. He had been waiting in a tavern just outside the palace gates on the Canopic Way, the two hundred foot wide avenue that stretched across the heart of the city. Outside, in the midday sun, tens of thousands of Alexandrians discussed their business or conversed with friends, struggling to make themselves heard above the din of street hawkers and the merchants shouting about their wares to passers-by. Cato had brushed past them, ignoring the endless entreaties to examine their cheap souvenirs and antiques. The traders pursued him with promises that he need only look, without being hassled. Their promises were as cheap as the goods they sold and they only relented when Cato snarled at them to leave him alone.

  Cato slumped down on to the stool opposite Macro and Hamedes and quickly drained the cup. He glanced at Hamedes.

  ‘Shouldn’t you be trying to find a vacancy in the priesthood of some temple?’

  Hamedes snorted with derision. ‘Here, in Alexandria?’

  ‘Why not?’ Cato gestured along the Canopic Way. ‘There’s hardly any shortage of temples in the city.’

  ‘The temples here are run by Greek parasites. They filch money from the gullible to line their purses. I am a priest from the true temples of Egypt. I will not defile myself by serving in Alexandria.’ Hamedes helped himself to a cup of wine. ‘Besides, the Alexandrian priesthoods are a nice little earner and there aren’t any vacancies right now.’ He shrugged.

  ‘A priest is a priest is a priest,’ Macro muttered as he took the handle of the wine jug and eased it back over to his side of the table. ‘Anyway, how did it go with the governor?’

  ‘Let’s just say that he wasn’t too pleased that Ajax got away.’

  ‘So is he going to give us enough men to track the bastard down?’

  ‘Give us men?’ Cato laughed drily. ‘Far from it. You and I are being sent to join the fight against the Nubians.’ Cato pulled the orders he had been given from inside his tunic and tossed them across the table to Macro. ‘Read, if you want to.’

  Macro gently pushed the papyrus scroll aside. ‘What the hell is Petronius playing at? He knows how dangerous Ajax is.’

  ‘It’s a matter of priorities, apparently.’

  ‘Priorities?’ Macro frowned. ‘Since when was letting the leader of a slave rebellion remain at large not a priority?’

  ‘Ah, there you have me.’ Cato clicked his tongue. ‘That’s what I said to the governor. But he was adamant that the Nubians had to be dealt with first. He’s probably right,’ Cato conceded. ‘So, it’s back to the army for both of us. Of course, that may yet serve our purpose.’ Cato leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table. ‘The last we heard of Ajax was that he was heading up the Nile. He’s on the run. He doesn’t have many men left. The question is, what would you do in his place?’

  Macro scratched his neck. ‘Look for a new base to operate from. Find new allies . . .’ He looked at Cato and cocked an eyebrow. ‘The Nubians?’

  ‘That’s my thought.’

  Macro was not so certain. ‘It’s a bit of a long shot. Why would he do that? Why not just find a nice quiet route out of the province and bugger off to some far corner of the Empire and cause trouble there?’

  ‘Because the Nubians offer him the best chance of doing more damage to Rome.’

  ‘And why would the Nubians take him on?’

  ‘Wouldn’t you? You’ve seen the handiwork of Ajax and his men. They’d be a useful asset to any army.’

  ‘I suppose,’ Macro responded thoughtfully. ‘Though I doubt Ajax will take kindly to receiving orders rather than giving them. Trust me, Cato, I’ve had the chance to watch the man at length. He is determined to serve no master but himself.’

  ‘We all have to swallow our pride sometimes.’ Cato eased himself back. ‘I could be wrong. He might already be on his way out of the province. But I doubt it. Not while we’re here.’ A sudden insight struck him. ‘In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if he was hoping that we would be joining the army sent against the Nubians. All the more reason to join forces with them.’

  ‘He hates us that much?’

  Cato recalled the insane rage in Ajax’s expression the night they had fought in the village and a familiar cold chill rippled down his spine. ‘Yes. Yes, he does. I’m certain of it. And that is the only advantage we have right now.’

  Hamedes cleared his throat. ‘So, sir, when are you leaving for the upper Nile?’

  ‘Tomorrow. There’s a military convoy being loaded at the quay on Lake Mareotis. We’ve been given berths on one of the barges. We leave at dawn.’

  ‘That soon?’ Macro thought a moment and shrugged. ‘Why not? If Ajax is waiting for us there, the sooner we deal with the bastard the better.’ He turned to Hamedes. ‘Looks like we’ll be parting company. Here’s to you.’ He raised his cup. ‘As gypo guides go, you’re all right.’

  Hamedes looked at Cato. ‘Is that a compliment, sir?’

  ‘From him? Oh yes.’ Cato lifted his cup as well. ‘Thanks for your help.’

  Hamedes seemed troubled. ‘The truth is, sir, that I wish to find a place in one of the older temples that still hold to the old faith. Not here, with these con men. I want to return to
the upper Nile, where I was raised.’ His eyes gleamed. ‘And you still need someone who speaks the native tongue, to help you find the gladiator and his followers. I might serve you a while yet, before returning to the priesthood. You know I have as much reason to find him as you do. The blood of my brother priests demands justice.’

  ‘Yes.’ Cato could see the intensity of Hamedes’ gaze and guess at the feelings that filled his heart and mind and fuelled his desire for revenge. He nodded. ‘Very well, you can join us. I’ll have you enrolled as a scout. Might as well be paid for your efforts.’

  The priest smiled. ‘I am in your debt, sir.’

  The Nile barges were heavily laden with military supplies for the coming campaign: baskets filled with arrows, the heavier shafts of ammunition for the bolt throwers, newly forged sword blades, shield bosses and trims, tubs of nails and boots. There were scores of legionaries and officers who had been on leave, or detached service, and were returning to their units, along with some fresh recruits. Cato, Macro and Hamedes, laden down with the kit they had retrieved from the Alexandrian fleet, boarded one of the last vessels to leave and were ushered out of the way to the small foredeck while the crew thrust the vessel away from the quay and hoisted the large triangular sail. The hold had been filled and sacks of grain and jars of oil and wine were heaped across the deck.

 

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