‘Yes.’
‘So that I can be displayed in Rome, no doubt, as a prize of your Emperor.’
‘That is for the Emperor to decide,’ Cato responded. ‘My offer to you is simple. You and your men surrender, or I will be forced to have you cut down where you stand.’
‘I don’t think I will surrender,’ Talmis said slowly, and his dark lips twisted into a calculating smile. ‘You will let me return to Nubia freely, Legate.’
Cato’s brow furrowed. ‘And why would I do that?’
‘Because I have what you want. I have Ajax. I’ll give you to him, in exchange for free passage back across the frontier to Nubia.’
Cato felt his heart quicken. ‘Ajax is here? With you?’
‘No. I have been keeping him safe while I decided what to do with a man who had failed to serve me well. His life for mine. That is the offer.’
Cato turned to Macro and for a moment there was a tense silence as their eyes met. Macro swallowed but managed to contain any display of feeling that might influence his friend’s decision. There would be no question of avoiding the anger of the imperial palace if the Prince was allowed to walk free. And yet the Nubians had been crushed. It would be many years before they dared to defy Rome again. Ajax, on the other hand, would present a far more immediate threat to the Empire if he were allowed to escape from Egypt. He had already stirred up one rebellion that had nearly brought Rome to its knees. Who knew what else the gladiator was capable of? Besides, Ajax was the reason why they were here in the province in the first place. It was the search for Ajax that had consumed their lives for months now. There was an unanswerable need to finish the business that had tormented them both since the rebellion on Crete. Cato turned back to the Nubian Prince.
‘Well?’ Talmis raised his chin. ‘What is your decision?’
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
It was late in that afternoon when Prince Talmis reined in at the head of the small column of riders, trotting down the bank of the Nile. Both he and his bodyguards had been disarmed and were escorted by Cato, Macro, Tribune Junius and a squadron of auxiliary cavalry. Talmis pointed across the river to a small island, two hundred paces across the river. Like most of the islands Cato had seen, it was low and fringed with reeds. However, at the upriver end there was a sizeable slab of rock upon which a shrine had been built, five columns by four. Clumps of date palms grew around the base of the rock and a small landing stage lay a short distance further along the island, beyond which there were only reeds. A skiff was moored to the landing stage, and a single figure could be seen at the entrance to the shrine, watching them.
‘I have them under guard there, in the shrine,’ said Talmis.
‘Them?’ Macro raised an eyebrow. ‘How many men has Ajax left?’
‘There is Ajax and one other, a man called Karim. The others I had put to death when the gladiator returned to my camp with his story of failure. I was saving him for later - that is, if I could not get a good price for him from your Emperor.’
‘I’m glad I’m not your ally,’ Macro commented.
‘Ajax was not an ally. He offered to serve me. He was supposed to distract you and not give battle. But he wanted nothing more than to kill Romans, no matter what the cost to those he led.’ Prince Talmis turned to look at Macro and Cato. ‘I am impressed that a man can hate you two as much as Ajax does.’
Macro pursed his lips. ‘It cuts both ways, Nubian. We have our own reasons for returning his feeling in kind.’
‘Truly?’ Talmis swatted an insect away from his cheek. He gestured to Macro to continue.
‘That’s enough,’ Cato interrupted. ‘It’ll be dark soon. I want to deal with Ajax before the day is out.’ He turned to the Prince. ‘How many of your men are there on the island?’
‘Six of my best men. I will send their captain to them to explain the situation and recall the guards. Then the gladiator and his friend are yours. And you will free me and my men.’
‘Only when I have Ajax,’ Cato said firmly. ‘Have your men bring the boat over. I’ll go across with your captain and some of my troops to take charge of the captives. Your men can return first, then you are free to go.’
‘I see.’ Talmis nodded and looked at him with a calculating expression. ‘Legate, do you think your victory has ended my ambitions to seize the upper Nile?’
‘No. But it will take time for you to mass another army. By then Rome will have sent more troops to the province and bolstered the defences of the towns and forts along the Nile. You will have even less chance of success than you did this time.’ Cato looked at him steadily. ‘I don’t think Rome will have much to worry about from the Nubian quarter for a while. You’re a spent force. Ajax, on the other hand, is not. That is the reason why I am prepared to trade your life for his.’
A frown flitted across the Prince’s face. ‘Really? I think you underestimate me, Roman. We shall see about that, perhaps sooner than you think.’ Prince Talmis turned to the captain of his bodyguards and there was a quick exchange before the captain dismounted and climbed down the bank to the edge of the water. He raised a small horn to his lips and blew four times. Two figures scurried down from the shrine, boarded the skiff and set off across the current.
Cato gestured to the commander of the cavalry escort to join him and then spoke quietly to the decurion. ‘I don’t trust the Prince. I want your two best men to come with me. Once we reach the island and have the prisoners, I’ll give the signal for you to release the Prince and his men.’
‘Yes, sir. And what’ll the signal be?’
Cato thought briefly. ‘I’ll raise my sword and wave it from side to side. You’ll see that well enough from here.’
‘Yes, sir.’
Cato glanced at the Prince and his men. ‘If they make any attempt to escape before the signal is given, kill the men. Take the Prince alive, if you can.’
Macro moved closer to Cato and muttered, ‘What’s to stop us killing him anyway? Once we have Ajax?’
Cato shook his head. ‘Talmis poses little danger to Rome. I think that this defeat will weaken him. He’ll be busy keeping his followers in line as it is. If we kill him, we give the Nubians a grievance that will need to be avenged.’
Macro shrugged. ‘If you say so. Frankly, one more dead Nubian suits me fine.’
Cato nodded to the decurion. ‘You have your orders.’
The decurion turned in his saddle to call back down the line. ‘Castor! Decius! Dismount and escort the legate!’
The two tough-looking men swung down from their saddles and handed the reins to their comrades before unhooking their shields and trotting forward to the two officers. Cato dismounted and gestured to them to follow him. ‘You too, Macro. And you, Junius.’
He led the way down to join the Nubian captain as they waited for the skiff. The men in the small boat worked the oars hard as they fought the current. As they waited, Cato stepped aside from the others. ‘Macro, over here.’
They moved out of earshot and Cato turned to his friend with a searching look. ‘When we get hold of Ajax it is my intention to take him back to Rome alive. Do you understand?’
Macro was silent for a moment and his expression hardened as he replied through gritted teeth. ‘After all that bastard’s done? You haven’t forgotten Crete, Cato. But then it wasn’t you he held captive in that shitty cage. It was me, and Julia.’
‘I know.’
‘Bollocks. I say we kill him, dump his body in the Nile and be done with it.’
‘Those were not our orders.’
‘Orders?’ Macro leaned closer, face to face with Cato. ‘Fuck the orders . . . Fuck ’em. Fuck Sempronius, Narcissus, the Emperor. Fuck the lot of ’em. I don’t care. Ajax owes me, and I want my revenge.’ He paused and softened his tone as best he could. ‘Cato, lad, I need revenge, and so do you, for Julia’s sake.’
‘I won’t speak for her.’
Macro stabbed his finger at Cato’s harness. ‘She’s going to be your wife.
Do you think you can live with that precious conscience of yours, knowing what he did to her and yet letting him live an instant longer than necessary?’
‘Ajax will die,’ Cato replied firmly. ‘He will be condemned by the Emperor and crucified. You know it.’
‘Oh, he’ll be condemned all right, but what if Claudius decides to send him to the arena? You know how good he is. If anyone can win over the mob, it’ll be Ajax. Then what? Supposing Claudius spares him, as a sop to the mob? Even if he dies, he’ll go out a hero. Either with a sword in his hand spitting defiance, or screaming his hatred of Rome from the cross. If he’s crucified, he’ll be a martyr, just like Spartacus before him.’
‘Then we’ll have to bridge that cross when, or if, we come to it.’ Cato grasped his friend’s arm. ‘Macro. We have no choice. We have our orders and I will carry them out. And so will you. Give me your word on it, or I’ll have no choice but to send you back to the camp.’
Macro’s face flinched with the effort of containing the poisonous rage that Ajax had planted in his heart many months before. At length he sucked in a deep breath through his teeth. ‘As you command . . . sir.’
‘Thank you.’ Cato bowed his head slightly in gratitude before he glanced towards the river. ‘The boat’s here. Let’s go.’
They returned to the others as the skiff reached the shore. One of the men hopped over the side with a splash and guided the bows in. The captain climbed aboard and settled in the stern before the others took their places; Macro and Cato opposite the captain, then the two auxiliaries and Junius on the small triangular deck at the front. The Nubian pushed the boat off and the man at the oars turned the craft and started to propel it back across the glassy expanse of river towards the landing stage on the island. One of the legionaries leaned out to look down at the water and the boat rolled slightly to that side.
‘Sit back!’ Macro snapped. ‘Don’t move again.’
‘Sorry, sir.’
The skiff was heavily laden and awkward to move and the man at the oars had to work hard to keep on course. The sun was beginning to sink into a murky orange haze to the west and the dark forms of birds swooped low over the water, feeding off the insects. They were not the only animals feeding, Cato realised as the skiff approached the landing stage. There was a movement in the reeds away to the left and a long glistening snout protruded briefly through the slender green growths, then with a swirl of water and swish amongst the tops of the reeds, it was gone.
The skiff approached the landing stage, constructed from stone in the forgotten days when priests once came to the shrine to make offerings. Now the stone was worn with age and mottled with bird droppings. The man at the oars shouted over his shoulder to Junius, and then pointed to the rope loosely coiled beside the tribune. Junius nodded his understanding and took up the rope, reaching out to the iron ring that was fastened to the side of the stonework. A thrust of the oars brought it within reach and the tribune grasped it and pulled the boat in. As soon as he could he slipped the end of the rope through the ring and pulled it back, drawing the craft closer. Once the craft was securely moored, Junius clambered ashore and helped the others up. When they were all on firm ground, Macro turned to the Nubian captain.
‘You speak Greek?’
‘Little.’
‘Then no tricks, understand?’ Macro slapped his scabbard. ‘Or else.’
The captain nodded and then led the way up a crumbling stone path lined with palm trees. It was only a short climb before they emerged close to the entrance to the shrine. Cato turned back and saw the distant figures watching them from the riverbank. Then he strode towards the entrance with the rest of the party, his heart beating swiftly as he anticipated the meeting with Ajax. At his side Macro’s expression was grim and his lips pressed tightly together. The two auxiliaries followed Macro, and Cato and Junius took up the rear. The sentry at the gate saluted as he saw the captain and there was a brief exchange before the Nubian led the party inside the shrine.
The interior was enclosed in a ten-foot wall on which hieroglyphs had been deeply carved to let the shadows accentuate each character. Two figures sat with their backs to the far wall, watched by two men with spears, some fifteen feet away. Ajax looked up as the new arrivals stood in the entrance. For a moment his face was blank, then his keen gaze took in the weapons in the hands of the Romans and he smiled weakly.
‘So, Prince Talmis has been defeated. I wondered. Now I am to be your victim instead of his.’
Cato stared at the gladiator, his mind seething with hatred and a constant refrain to remember his orders. There was something else he was dimly aware of at the same time: a vague sense of disappointment that the long hunt had come to an end.
‘We go,’ announced the captain.
‘What?’ Cato turned to him. The Nubian gestured to his men and pointed in the direction of the skiff. Cato nodded curtly.
The captain called to his men and they backed away from the prisoners and gathered their haversacks and joined their officer. Then, with a brief nod to Cato, the Nubian led his men out of the shrine. Cato heard the pad of boots fading away and then there was silence as the prisoners and the Romans gazed at each other.
Ajax broke the silence. ‘What will you do with me?’
‘Take you back to Rome,’ Cato said tonelessly.
‘I see. You will make a spectacle of my death? A warning to other slaves of the cost of defying Rome.’
‘I imagine that’s what the Emperor will want. Frankly, I don’t care about that. Macro and I just want to see you pay for all the suffering you have caused.’
‘And what of the suffering you caused me?’
Macro growled. ‘Your father was a bloody pirate. He deserved his end. As you deserve yours.’
Ajax glanced past the two officers and a brief smile flickered across his face. At once Cato felt an icy tremor course down his back. He turned to follow the direction of the gladiator’s eyes. Behind him stood the two auxiliaries, spears grasped firmly as they watched the prisoners closely. Beyond them Junius had drawn his sword and was waving it from side to side. The signal for the release of Prince Talmis. Cato felt his anger rising. ‘I didn’t give the order to—’
Junius stepped forward and swung his sword into the back of the nearest auxiliary’s neck, cutting through the spine. The man’s mouth sagged open as he collapsed. The other man half turned and looked down at his stricken companion, too shocked to react fast enough to save his life. Junius stepped forward and stabbed him in the throat.
‘What?’ Cato stared at the tribune aghast. It was Macro who grasped the truth first. He tore out his sword and turned on Junius.
‘Traitor!’ he roared. ‘He’s the one!’
‘Traitor?’ Cato felt as if he had been struck numb. The image of Hamedes lying dead with a knife in his back leapt into his mind. He felt sick with the terrible knowledge of his mistake. ‘No . . . Not Junius.’
The tribune grinned. ‘I doubt you’ll ever find the body of Junius. The jackals along the road from Memphis will have seen to that. That’s where we caught him, on his way to join the legion.’
He threw his sword over Cato’s head and ducked down to snatch up one of the auxiliary’s spears. The sword thudded into the ground in front of Ajax and he snatched it up and sprang to his feet, as did the other prisoner. Ajax laughed harshly.
‘My thanks, Canthus. You save me again.’ Ajax pointed the sword at Cato. ‘The legate is mine. Deal with the centurion.’
‘Canthus?’ Cato felt sick, but still had enough presence of mind to draw his sword. The young man lowered the tip of his spear and thrust at Macro. His action was fast and Macro only just had time to lurch to one side to avoid the weapon. At once his opponent feinted again as he tried to keep him off balance. But Macro had managed to drop into a balanced crouch and easily parried the blow aside. The two men watched each other closely.
A padding of feet caused Cato to turn, just as Ajax slashed out with his sword. The tip hisse
d through the air and Cato ducked. Thrusting his blade up, Cato stabbed at Ajax’s side. It was a hurried stroke, yet the blade cut through his soiled tunic and gashed the muscly flesh over the gladiator’s ribs. Ajax snarled ferociously and backed off a step. He reached round with his spare hand to touch the wound. Behind him Cato saw his companion, Karim, the swarthy lieutenant he recalled from the rebellion on Crete. The man was hurrying round the far wall of the shrine, towards Macro’s back.
‘Macro! Watch out!’
As Cato shouted the warning, Ajax lunged forward, slashing at Cato’s face. He tried to scramble away, but the sword point cut high on his forehead and swept on down across his brow, nose and cheek. It felt as if he had been hit in the face by a red-hot hammer and his vision instantly blurred and a terrible, agonising pain seared across his consciousness, blotting out thought of anything else. Cato stumbled back and fell, his sword slipping from his fingers. The impact drove the breath from his lungs and blood spilled into his eyes and blinded him.
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