Centurion

by Simon Scarrow

  Cato felt sick at the prospect of being an outcast amongst his army comrades. He swallowed. ‘I’d better make a clean breast of it, before any rumours start circulating. For the good of the cohort.’

  ‘Shit, Cato, there’s no need to play the heroic martyr just yet,’ Macro responded irritably. ‘Just wait a while. You’ll soon find out if he talked. Meanwhile it would be better for you if you didn’t torment yourself over it.’ Macro thought a moment and pointed a finger at Cato. ‘Is that what this is about?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘You volunteering to get this message through to the king.’

  ‘No. It has nothing to do with that.’

  Macro stared at him for an instant and then shrugged. ‘If you say so. Just don’t go and get yourself killed out of some perverse sense of righting a wrong. I know you, Cato.’

  ‘Don’t worry. I have no intention of throwing my life away.’

  ‘All right, then.’ Macro was not wholly convinced. ‘Just be careful, eh?’

  Cato was watching two figures climbing the slope towards them: Balthus and Carpex. The two Romans clambered to their feet and bowed their heads in greeting.

  ‘It’s time,’ Balthus announced to Cato. ‘You must follow my man and do exactly as he says. There is a way into the citadel, but you must trust him, and obey. Do not speak, even in Greek, for your accent will betray you. And don’t forget the signal. We will not enter the city if we do not see it.’

  ‘I understand.’

  ‘Well then, much as it pains me to say it, Roman, I wish you good luck.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Cato turned to Macro. ‘I’ll see you in the citadel later on, sir.’

  ‘Of course you will.’ Macro smiled and slapped him on the shoulder. ‘As the prince says, good luck.’

  ‘Thank you, sir,’ Cato said solemnly and then turned to follow Carpex up towards the ridge.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  They crossed the ridge and descended the far side, keeping behind the line of the rocky spur that jutted out into the plain towards Palmyra. The sun set behind the ridge and they walked in silence as the shadows thickened about them in the gathering dusk. Cato followed Carpex closely, keeping a wary eye on the ground ahead of them, looking for any signs of human habitation or enemy patrols. But the landscape this side of the city was mainly barren and deserted and only a handful of the creatures of the desert were abroad. A jackal, startled by the two men, scrambled away into some low brush with a shrill yipping noise. Overhead a vulture spiralled lazily in the sky and Cato could not help thinking that both animals would quickly grow fat on the flesh of dead men in the days to come.

  As the last glimmer of light faded in the sky they reached the end of the spur and paused as they caught sight of the twinkling lamps strung along the wall of the city and burning faintly in the windows and on the flat roofs of the buildings beyond. A number of fires burned outside the gates where travellers and merchants camped for the night, continuing about their business despite the power struggle taking place within Palmyra. The bulk of the citadel loomed over the eastern side of the city and Cato touched his companion on the shoulder.

  ‘Which way now?’

  Carpex pointed out a shallow depression that snaked from the hills and across the plain towards the city. In the few days each year that rain fell this was one of the streams that fed off the hills and into the oasis. But now it was quite dry and provided ample cover for their approach.

  ‘Stay behind me, master. If we encounter anyone, not a word, eh?’

  ‘I know. Let’s go.’

  They trotted towards the lip of the narrow water channel and slid down on to the bed. The ground was smooth and hard and they made hardly a sound as they padded quickly along, following the course of the channel. Once Cato thought he heard voices, and stopped Carpex until he was sure there was nothing, and then they cautiously continued forward again. After they had gone perhaps three miles, as Cato calculated it, the narrowing course of the dried-up bed of the stream petered out and they emerged on to the plain no more than half a mile from the city. Just ahead, a grove of palms marked the spot where the flow of water ended its journey from the hills and Carpex beckoned to Cato to follow him to the tall, thin trunks curving up towards the spiky fronds above. There was a faint evening breeze which ruffled the long leaves so that they rustled as the two men crept into the shadows beneath and cautiously made their way through the husked trunks to the far side of the grove.

  Carpex suddenly crouched down and bade Cato to do the same. As Cato shuffled to his side Carpex turned to him with a fierce glare and touched a finger to his lips. No more than thirty paces away, where the palm trees were more stunted and dispersed, the unmistakable silhouettes of several camels knelt on the ground. A short distance beyond there was a dark huddle of men sitting under the stars speaking Aramaic in muted voices.

  ‘Rebels?’ Cato whispered.

  Carpex shook his head. ‘Merchants.’ He tilted his head to one side for a moment to listen before he continued, ‘They’re complaining about the way the uprising is interfering with their trade.’

  Cato grunted lightly. ‘I wish I had their problems. What do we do? We have to get round them.’

  ‘Yes. This way.’ Carpex lowered himself to the ground and crept along the fringe of the trees on all fours, careful not to disturb the dried fronds that had fallen from the palms. He paused and glanced back at Cato, whispering, ‘Go carefully, Roman. There may be scorpions, or snakes hunting in the darkness.’

  ‘Snakes?’

  ‘Yes, vipers. Now come!’

  Cato followed him, trying not to flinch at the thought of any lethal reptiles or insects that might lie in his path. He cast wary glances towards the camels and the men slightly further off. Once he froze as a camel turned to him, jaws working casually, and grunted. It soon lost interest, and turned back and chewed contentedly. As soon as they were a safe distance from the traders they stood up again and continued towards the city. To their left was the track leading east towards Parthia and Carpex angled towards it. Cato grasped his arm.

  ‘Why this route? We’re bound to be seen.’

  ‘Of course. This way we could be anybody travelling to Palmyra. If we’re seen coming from the hills to the north, we might cause suspicion. Trust me, master.’

  Cato took a deep breath and nodded. ‘Looks like I’ll have to.’

  ‘Yes. Now please – no more talking.’

  As soon as they reached the track they followed it towards the city. A short distance along it they passed a long caravan heading in the opposite direction, making the most of the comfort of the cool night air to begin their journey. Carpex exchanged a few comments with some of the drivers as they passed by and once the tail of the caravan was behind them he turned to Cato.

  ‘It seems that the merchants are sending their most valuable stock out of the city. Many of the wealthiest families have already left. They’re fearful that there will be a big battle, master. Perhaps they have already heard that your governor Longinus is coming with his legions?’

  Cato nodded. If it came to battle, or a siege, then it would be the people of Palmyra who suffered most. He could understand their desire to get away until the fighting was over. As ever the poor, who had no other home, nor the means to support themselves, were condemned to remain behind and weather the bloody tempest that was about to break over their city.

  As they approached the eastern gate, Cato could see that there was still a handful of people sitting or sleeping on the ground either side of the route. Even with the revolt, some of the locals still dared to go in and out of the city, tending to their smallholdings or making sure their goats remained safe. The gate itself was open, but heavily guarded by armed men who prevented access during the hours of the night. By the light of the torches burning in brackets above the gate, and the braziers on either side, Cato could see that they wore scale armour over loose robes and baggy leggings. Each wore a conical helmet and was equipped with a roun
d shield and a spear. They barred the way into the city.

  ‘What now?’ Cato muttered.

  ‘You do as I say, master. Remember?’

  Cato nodded.

  ‘Follow my lead and do not speak. When we reach the gate I will say who I am. It is likely that I will be recognised in any case. I will tell them that you are another slave who escaped from Prince Balthus’ retinue with me. I will tell them that the camp of my master is a short distance away to the east. I will say that I will tell them precisely where it is only when I am given a reward for the information I have for Prince Artaxes. They will admit us, and escort us through the gate to find the prince. Once inside we will be in the slum quarter of the city. The streets are narrow and winding. When I tell you, we run and you follow me. We will easily outstrip them and lose them in the streets, but you must not lose sight of me, master, or you’ll get lost, and be sure to fall into their hands.’

  ‘That’s your plan?’ Cato whispered furiously. ‘What if it doesn’t work?’

  ‘Have you got a better idea, master?’ Carpex responded testily.

  Cato nodded vigorously. ‘We should get the fuck out of here and think of a proper plan.’ But it was already too late. There was no time to do anything else. ‘What if they send for someone instead of escorting us into the city? What then?’

  ‘Then?’ Carpex looked surprised. ‘Then we are sure to be discovered for what we are, master, and we’ll be executed.’

  Cato shook his head in wonder at the desperate nature of his companion’s ruse, and despair that there was no way out of it now. They were close enough to the men guarding the gates to be seen in the loom of their torches, and to turn round would provoke their instant suspicion. Cato swallowed nervously and hoped that his headpiece would hide his Roman features in the darkness.

  Carpex quickened his pace and, with a nervous glance over his shoulder, hurried up to the east gate, with Cato close behind him.

  They were instantly seen by some of the guards, who lowered their spears and pointed the tips at the two figures coming towards them. A harsh shout split the darkness and the remaining guards scrambled to their feet, weapons at the ready as Carpex and Cato stopped a short distance away. One of the rebels came forward, shouting at them. Carpex raised his hands and dropped to his knees and began speaking in a frightened rush. Cato knelt down behind him, head lowered, adopting what he hoped was an obeisant slave posture. The exchange between Carpex and the guard continued for a little longer, and the tone of the other man’s voice changed from hostile to surprised and then excited as he beckoned to Carpex to stand up and follow him. Cato scrambled to his feet and stayed as close to the slave as possible as they were led past the other men and through the gateway.

  Inside, by the light of more torches, he could see an ancient street, edged with refuse, leading away between grimy buildings. After several days in the desert the close, fetid smell of the city hit his nostrils like a blow and he instinctively wrinkled his nose. The officer in charge of the gate lit a small torch and led them up the street at a fast pace. Carpex and Cato followed, and then came two more men, carrying spears, and wearing scale armour and helmets. The trick of it, Cato knew, was to make their break fast enough to get out of range of a spear thrust, or even a throw, if the guards were sufficiently alert to chance such a thing after their fleeing prisoners. The street bent round a public well, and then began to climb gently at an angle to where Cato assumed the citadel must be. All the time he watched Carpex closely, muscles tensed and ready to flee. Twenty paces on a narrow alley opened up to their left and Carpex edged slightly towards that side of the street as they approached. As they drew level, Carpex stumbled on to his hands and knees with a cry of pain. The leader turned, frowned, and called back to his men as he continued up the street. One of the guards strode past the slave and halted a few paces further on to watch Cato. The other guard reached down and roughly pulled Carpex to his feet.

  Carpex came up fast, hurling a handful of gravel and filth into the face of the guard. The man instinctively flinched back with a surprised gasp.

  ‘Run!’ Carpex shouted in Greek and leaped for the entrance to the alley as Cato sprinted after him. The moment they left the light cast by the officer’s torch they were plunged into darkness. The alley was narrow, scarcely wide enough for two men to walk down it abreast, and the intensity of the smell of rotten food, shit and sweat was overpowering as Cato and Carpex stumbled and slithered past dark doorways and shuttered windows. Behind them the officer shouted orders to his men and then there was a glimmer of light behind the two fugitives as the guards thrust their way into the alley.

  ‘Move!’ Carpex dragged Cato behind him as they ran on. Glancing back over his shoulder Cato saw the officer leading the pursuit, torch held high and flaring brightly in the confined space, casting a red hue over the guards and the squalid surroundings. The officer shouted and thrust an arm towards the two fugitives.

  ‘Stay close!’ Carpex hissed, and they scrambled on, keeping to the middle of the alley in a bid to stay clear of any obstacles leaning against the walls close by on either side. Behind them Cato could hear the clatter and thud of the guards’ boots as they tried to run down their prey. Carpex slithered and lost his balance, nearly fell, but managed to keep going as Cato almost ran into the back of him.

  ‘They’re gaining!’ Cato said through gritted teeth. ‘We have to do something.’

  ‘Just keep running!’ Carpex gasped. ‘We’ll lose them. Trust me!’

  But Cato was already sure the attempt to stay ahead of the enemy was bound to fail. There were too many obstacles in the street. Sooner or later they would fall headlong and be caught. Ahead he could just make out a change in the shadows as the alley bent sharply to the left. As Carpex scrambled round the corner Cato knew that he must act, or they were doomed, and the men of both cohorts along with them. He grasped Carpex’s arm. ‘Wait there!’ He pointed to the middle of the alley, a few paces on from the corner. Then, snatching his robes aside, Cato drew his sword and flattened himself into the nearest doorway. His heart was pounding so loudly in his ears that it was difficult to clearly make out the approaching footsteps. He knew there would be only one chance to turn on his pursuers. Cato must strike hard and fast, just as Macro would in the same situation. He took a deep breath, filling his lungs, as the flickering red glow of the torch flared on the walls in the angle of the corner.

  Then the gloom of the alley was brilliantly illuminated as the torch burst round the end of the wall Cato was pressed into. The officer caught sight of Carpex at once and shouted with triumph as he ran towards the slave. The first of his men appeared a moment later, just as their officer passed Cato. With as loud a roar as he could manage Cato sprang out, sword held high, tip pointed towards the face of the guard. There was no pause as he slammed his sword arm out, taking the man in the cheek just below his left eye. The blade cut through flesh and muscle before shattering the bone beneath and driving deep into the skull. Instantly Cato withdrew the sword with a savage wrench and swirled round in one movement, still roaring at the top of his voice. The rebel officer had half turned, his face a mask of surprise and fear in the red glow of the torch. Then the edge of Cato’s sword cut into his neck, between the mail shirt and the rim of his helmet. The blow had been directed with all the strength at Cato’s command and it carved diagonally through the neck and split the collarbone before it hit the officer’s spine, and stopped. His legs gave out and he slumped to his knees with a puzzled expression, just before he died.

  A thud from behind caused Cato to turn back, pulling his blade free. The first guard’s body had just hit the ground, the legs kicking out in a savage spasm, as the second guard ran into sight. He stopped as he made to change direction round the corner, but the sight of his two stricken comrades, and Cato looming over them, slightly crouched and ready to spring as he raised his dripping blade, was too much. He backed away frantically, back round the corner and out of sight, then Cato heard his foots
teps sprinting away as the man cried out in alarm and terror.

  There was no time to take any satisfaction in his small victory and Cato quickly wiped the blood from his sword on the edge of his cloak, and beckoned to Carpex.

  ‘Take off your robe. Put on the officer’s kit.’

  ‘What?’ Carpex still looked stunned in the light of the torch guttering amongst the filth on the ground.

  ‘Put it on now,’ Cato ordered harshly as he cast his robe aside and leaned over the body of the guard. He untied the chin straps and pulled the helmet and the liner off the man’s head, and then undid the sword belt. Glancing round he saw that Carpex had knelt down and after a brief, reluctant pause was beginning to do the same to the rebel officer. The guard was wearing chain mail, and as ever the awkward metal rings were difficult to wriggle over the chest, shoulders and head and Cato had to wrench furiously at the mail to get it free. At once he gathered it up over his head and thrusting his arms through he let the mail slide heavily over his body. He picked up the liner and jammed it on his head before putting on the conical helmet and tying the chin straps. Carpex was still struggling to get into his mail and Cato quickly helped him. A moment later Cato picked up the torch and handed it to the slave before he bent down and retrieved the guard’s spear.

  ‘At least now we shouldn’t attract too much unwanted attention. Now, get us to that tunnel, Carpex.’

  The slave turned and trotted down the alley. Cato followed, sticking close to his companion so that he could see the way ahead lit by the torch. Carpex led them through the twisting network of old streets unerringly, even though it was night. Not once did they see any sign of the inhabitants and Cato guessed that they must be sheltering anxiously behind their locked doors, praying that the rebels would ignore them. At length, they entered a slightly wider thoroughfare that ended in a market square where the traders’ stalls stood bare. A voice grumbled from the shadows, and as Cato and Carpex turned to the sound they saw a figure a short distance off. Before they could react the man turned and disappeared. The sound of footsteps padded away into the night.