The Zealot

by Simon Scarrow

  ‘Make your report.’

  ‘Yes, sir.’ He glanced at Cato. ‘We watched those villages we were assigned to cover. I had five men on each. We saw nothing untoward the whole time. Then, when I gathered my men up yesterday afternoon to return to the fort, we saw a dust cloud, away to the north, coming out of the hills. Heading this way.’

  ‘Hills?’ Cato cut in. ‘Which hills?’

  ‘Near Heshbon, sir. I decided to investigate. It would take quite a lot of men or animals to make that much dust. So we rode closer until I could make out the details. It was an army, sir. Thousands of men, hundreds mounted and what looked like a baggage train at the rear, although I couldn’t see it clearly. That was when their scouts spotted us. Next thing I knew they were coming at us from all directions, shooting arrows. That’s when I realised the mounted fellows were Parthians. They cut most of my men down, but me and these others managed to find a gully and rode through them in the dusk. We carried on through the night, and headed back to the fort. They caught up with us a few miles back.’ He shrugged. ‘And here we are, sir.’

  Macro stared at him for a moment and then clapped him on the uninjured arm. ‘Carry on, decurion. See to your men as soon as that wound’s dressed. Get ’em fed and get ’em rested.’

  ‘Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.’

  Macro drew Cato away from the men, under the gatehouse, and lowered his voice. ‘Coming for us do, you think?’

  ‘I’m sure of it. Bannus needs a victory, to prove that he can beat Roman soldiers. The villages round here only need the slightest excuse to go over to him. He destroys us and they’ll swarm to his side.’

  ‘But why us? Why not start with a smaller outpost?’

  ‘We’re as far from any large force of Roman troops as you can get in this region. He can easily cut us off from supplies and reinforcements. At the same time, we can only escape by cutting our way through him. There’s nothing but desert in the other direction.’

  ‘Shit. We’re stuck here.’ Macro pressed his lips together for a moment. ‘The Governor can help. If he leaves now, he’ll be able to make it back to the legions, and send a column down here.’

  ‘He might. If he can spare the men. Don’t forget, there’s that force of Parthians moving up on Palmyra.’

  ‘I’m sure he can spare us some men. Enough to deal with Bannus before his army grows much more. We’ll stay here until the relief arrives.’

  ‘Stay here?’ Cato looked uncertain. ‘Is that wise?’

  ‘What else can we do? We’ll be safe enough in here.’

  ‘You think so?’

  ‘Why not? He’s got a force of brigands, and now, it seems, a few Parthians. They’re not going to get over the walls in a hurry. Not without siege weapons.’

  ‘What makes you think they lack those?’

  Macro smiled. ‘And where would they have spirited them up from?’

  ‘Parthia, that’s where.’

  ‘Cato, have you any idea how difficult it would be to move a siege train over the desert?’

  ‘No. How difficult?’

  Macro was taken aback, and struggled for an answer. ‘I don’t really know, but I should imagine it would be bloody difficult to haul anything across the terrain out there. All right?’ He gestured vaguely in the direction of the caravan trade route and the desert beyond. ‘I’m telling you, he has no siege weapons. We’re safe.’

  ‘I hope you’re right.’

  ‘I’m right. But we’re going to make some preparations all the same.’ Macro made a few mental calculations. ‘Heshbon, that’s what, thirty miles away. They should be here tomorrow then, from noon.’

  Cato nodded. ‘Sounds right.’

  ‘Then there’s not much time. We need to speak to the Governor. Come on.’

  They climbed back into the tower. Longinus and Postumus were watching the rapidly diminishing cloud of dust kicked up by the Parthian horses and discussing something in muted tones. They stopped as soon as Macro and Cato emerged from the trapdoor. Macro quickly described what the patrol had seen. There was a momentary look of alarm on the Governor’s face before he controlled his feelings again and stood, stroking his chin thoughtfully.

  ‘I’ll have to re-join my command before the fort’s cut off.’

  ‘Yes, sir,’ agreed Macro. ‘The sooner you leave, the better. We’ll wait here for the relief column.’

  ‘Relief column?’ Longinus repeated. ‘Yes. Yes, of course. I’ll have to send you some more men. Enough to beat Bannus. I’ll see to it the moment I return to my command.’

  ‘Very good, sir.’ Macro nodded.

  ‘I’d best leave at once then.’ Longinus turned towards the trapdoor. Then he paused and turned back, staring hard at Postumus. ‘You can stay here.’

  ‘What?’ Postumus looked horrified. ‘Stay? Sorry, sir, but my place is at your side. It’s going to be a dangerous journey back to the legions. You’ll need every man you can get to ensure your safety.’

  ‘On the contrary, more men will only slow me down. The prefect has more need of you than I do right now. You will stay here, and help defend the fort.’

  ‘But, sir!’ There was a pleading tone to his voice and Macro felt sick with disgust.

  ‘Enough!’ Longinus snapped. ‘You will stay here! Understand?’

  Postumus stared back, and there was a bitter twist to his lips as he replied. ‘Oh, I understand, sir. Perfectly.’

  ‘I shall not forget you, Postumus. I never forget those who have served me well.’

  ‘That’s a great comfort, sir.’

  ‘Farewell, then.’ Longinus nodded, made to hold out his hand, and then let it drop back to his side as he turned away and climbed down from the tower.

  A little later Macro, Cato and Postumus looked on as the Governor and his escort galloped out of the fort and immediately swung north to give the approaching rebels as wide a berth as possible before they made for the security of the legions under Longinus’ command in Syria. Macro noticed the look of acute bitterness in Postumus’ face as he watched them ride off across the desert.

  ‘That’s what you get when you play politics, friend.’

  Postumus turned to the prefect and laughed. ‘You don’t get it, sir. He’s not going to send us any reinforcements.’

  ‘Why?’ asked Cato. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘If you two are the best that Narcissus can come up with, then may the gods help the Emperor. Outside Rome, I imagine that it’s only the three of us who know the scale of Longinus’ treachery. If he leaves us here to die, then he’s in the clear. Of course, the moment Bushir falls, and we’re all slaughtered, he’ll mount a punitive expedition and grieve over our bodies, and claim that he was just too late to save us.’

  Macro and Cato stared at him a moment, then Macro shrugged. ‘Fine. Then the only way we get back at that patrician bastard is by making sure we come through this alive.’

  ‘Oh?’ Postumus smiled weakly. ‘And how do you propose that we do that, sir?’

  ‘The same way we always do. By beating the living shit out of our enemy and dancing on his grave. Cato?’

  ‘Sir?’

  ‘I want every officer at headquarters at once. We’ve got work to do, and it looks like there’s not much time left before Bannus will be breathing down our necks.’

  ‘Including Scrofa? Shall I have him released?’

  Macro shrugged. ‘Why not? He might as well do something useful before he dies.’

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Macro looked over the faces of his officers, waiting for their complete attention before he began.

  ‘In two days’ time Bannus and his forces will be camping outside Fort Bushir. Although we don’t know their precise strength yet our scouts report that we are badly outnumbered. Worse still, Bannus and his men have been armed by the Parthians who have also sent him a contingent of their horse-archers. I’ve sent messengers to the garrison in Jerusalem and the procurator in Caesarea. I doubt whether there will be enoug
h troops to spare to send any to reinforce us. Worse still, it is not likely that any relief column will be sent from Syria.’

  This remark brought on looks of surprise, and a tone of muted anger rippled across the hall. Macro raised a hand to attract their attention.

  ‘Gentlemen! Quiet … The Governor of Syria is facing a substantial threat from Parthia across the frontier. He cannot spare us any men. We are on our own. I will not pretend that the odds look favourable, but we do have some advantages. The enemy must come to us, therefore we can lay a few traps to greet him. Bannus is at the head of a force comprising untrained villagers for the most part. They’ll be brave enough when the time comes but bravery is no match for good training and experience. We also have the benefit of good defences. The walls of Bushir are as strong as they come for a fort this size. Without siege equipment they’ll have to come at us over the walls, and if you’ve ever seen such an assault then you’ll know how costly it can be.’ Macro paused to let his words sink in, then continued. ‘That’s the good news. The bad news is that Bannus cannot afford to fail in his attempt on Bushir. He will throw everything he can at us. We cannot be confident of beating him. But even if we do go down to his army of brigands, we must ensure that the cost of his victory is so high that his men will not be prepared to follow him against any other Roman unit. If we can end this rebellion now, before it can spread, then his defeat is certain, even if we don’t live to see it.

  ‘Centurion Cato and I have made plans for the coming fight. There’s plenty of work to be done before Bannus arrives. My clerks will bring your orders to you. Dismissed!’

  The officers filed out of the hall. Postumus looked at the prefect sourly. ‘What do you want me to do, sir?’

  ‘I haven’t decided yet.’ Macro smiled. ‘Since you are so keen to get stuck into the enemy I want you right at the thick of things when it comes to the fight. Now wait for me outside.’

  ‘Yes, sir.’ Postumus saluted and left the hall.

  ‘You really want him at your side in a fight?’ muttered Cato. ‘That’s asking for trouble.’

  ‘I can handle him. There’s no way I’m going to let that scum run out on us. He’s the one who turned the villagers against us. Now he can take his full share of the consequences.’

  Cato nodded approvingly. ‘Still, I’d watch him closely.’

  ‘I will, believe me.’ Macro said firmly. ‘Do you think he was right about the Governor?’

  ‘Yes. It makes sense. We can’t expect any help from that quarter.’

  ‘If only we had more men. I checked the morning strength returns before the meeting. The cohort’s down to fewer than seven hundred effectives. It’s not looking good.’

  ‘No, sir. It’s not. What are my orders?’

  ‘I need a good pair of eyes out there. I want you to command the scouts. Take ten men and ride out towards Bannus. Send back regular reports on his progress. You are not to engage with any of their scouts. No heroics, Cato. Do you understand?’

  ‘Yes, sir. There’ll be time enough for that later on.’

  Macro laughed. ‘That’s the spirit! Now, I’d better get on with the preparations. You’ll need to leave as soon as you can.’

  ‘Yes, sir.’ Cato replied, but did not move towards the door.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘Those people at Heshaba. I think I owe it to them to offer shelter in the fort. They saved my life.’

  ‘No. They’ll be safer in their village, especially if Bannus does take the fort.’

  ‘I’m not sure about that. The Parthians aren’t exactly famous for their kind treatment of non-combatants. Besides, I got the feeling that there’s not much love lost between Bannus and those people. If we leave them out there, then they’ll be at the mercy of the brigands and those Parthians.’

  Macro stared at him for a moment before he made a decision. ‘Very well. Offer them shelter. But if they accept it, they must come to the fort by nightfall. I don’t want them getting caught up between the two sides when the fighting starts.’

  ‘Thank you, sir.’

  ‘Cato, you can ask them, but I doubt whether that woman, Miriam, or her followers, will take up the offer. Those are their people marching on us. It’s more likely they’ll join them in the attack on the fort.’

  Cato shook his head. ‘I don’t think so. There’s something different about Miriam and her followers. I don’t think they want to fight us. Or anyone for that matter.’

  ‘Fine.’ Macro waved his hand towards the door. ‘Then make your offer and be done with it. But get moving. There’s not much time.’

  As Cato’s column of scouts trotted out of the fort there were already many parties of men hard at work, swinging their picks into the ground as they excavated small pits all round the fort. Under the glare of the sun it was exhausting work, but there was no question of rest breaks. These men were digging for their lives. Anything that would stem the tide of the approaching enemy might help to save them. So, with the single concession to comfort of their straw hats, the men swung their picks in the sweltering heat in a desperate effort to prepare for the attack in the short time still left to them.

  The villagers of Heshaba were resting inside their houses when Cato and his men rode into the small square at the centre of the village. The man that Scrofa had ordered crucified still hung from his cross. Or at least, what now passed for the man. The sun had baked and desiccated his body so that it had visibly shrunk beneath the dried skin. Crows and other carrion had plucked at the most tender parts of his flesh and lidless, empty eye sockets stared out over the village. Cato ordered the column to dismount. He handed his reins to one of the scouts and ordered the men to water the horses and wait for him in the square. Then he walked into the nearest alley, approached a door and rapped on the frame. A moment later the door creaked open and an anxious male face peered out into the sun-washed street.

  ‘Find Miriam,’ Cato said in Greek. ‘Tell her Centurion Cato must speak to her on a matter of great urgency. I’ll be at the reservoir. Do you understand?’

  The man nodded, and Cato turned away and strode up the hill, past the last few houses of the village, until he reached the shade of one of the dusty palms that grew beside the reservoir. There was less water in it than ever, a mere pool surrounded by cracked earth, and he wondered how any people could survive in this arid land. The god of the Judaeans, Yahweh, must be cruel indeed to subject his believers to such a harsh existence, thought Cato. There had to be a better life than this. Perhaps that was why these people were so intensely religious – out of the necessity of finding some kind of spiritual compensation for such a hard and unrewarding physical existence.

  The soft crunch of gravel alerted him to Miriam’s approach and Cato quickly rose to his feet and bowed his head respectfully.

  ‘I was told that you wished to speak to me.’ Miriam smiled. ‘You don’t need to stand on my account, young man. Sit.’

  Cato did as he was told and Miriam knelt down opposite him and made herself comfortable.

  ‘We’ve been told that Bannus is heading this way with an army. I came to warn you.’

  ‘We already know. A rider came to the village this morning. We are to offer his men every assistance they require, or we will be deemed to be collaborators and treated accordingly.’

  Cato stared at her. ‘What will you do?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ She shook her head sadly. ‘If we resist Bannus he will destroy us. If we go along with him, then you Romans will treat us as his accomplices. Where is the middle path, Cato?’

  ‘I don’t know. I don’t even know if there is one. I came here to offer you and your people shelter in our fort.’

  Miriam smiled. ‘A kind offer, I’m sure. Tell me, what are your chances of surviving this attack by Bannus?’

  ‘I won’t lie to you, Miriam. We’re outnumbered, and there will be no outside help. We may well be overrun.’

  ‘In which case it would be as well for my people not to be disc
overed sheltering in your fort.’

  ‘I agree. If we are overrun. But if you stay here, you will surely fall foul of one side or another.’

  Miriam looked down at her hands. ‘We came here to escape such conflicts. All we wanted was peace and a chance to live our lives as we wish. Yet it seems that there is no escape from the conflicts that afflict men. They will carry them even here, into the wilderness. Look about you, Centurion. What is there here that is worth having? What is there here to excite a man’s avarice? Nothing. That is why my people settled in this forsaken place. We removed ourselves from any land a man could covet. We disowned any possessions that might inspire envy or desire in others. We are all that we are, and nothing more. Yet still we are blighted by the attentions of others. Even though we mean them no harm, they would destroy us.’ She reached a hand up and clutched it to her chest. ‘That was the fate of my son. I will not let that be the fate of my grandson. Yusef is all that I have left now. That, and the fading memories of an old woman.’

  Her head dipped forward and Miriam was silent. Cato could not offer any honest words of comfort and sat and waited. Her shoulders heaved once and a tear dropped on to the sand between her knees and left a dark stain. Cato cleared his throat. ‘Will you accept our protection, such as it is?’

  Miriam wiped her eyes on the sleeve of her cloak and looked up. ‘With all my heart, no. This is our home. There is nowhere else for us to go. We will stay, and either we will be spared, or we will be obliterated. But I thank you for the offer.’

  Cato nodded. ‘I have to leave.’ He eased himself to his feet and looked down into her eyes. ‘Good luck, Miriam. May your god protect you and your people.’

  She looked up into the sky and shut her eyes. ‘Thy will be done …’

  ‘Pardon?’

  She smiled. ‘Just something my son used to say.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘Farewell, Centurion. I hope I see you again.’