Centurion

by Simon Scarrow

Cato laughed. ‘I don’t know. Nothing … Everything. I don’t care.’

  ‘Oh dear.’ Julia knitted her brows. ‘That doesn’t sound very specific. But I’m sure we will manage.’ She gave his arm a little squeeze as they reached the base of the signal tower and stepped into the dark entrance to the staircase.

  ‘Careful,’ Cato warned. ‘It’s pitch black in there.’

  Julia lightly stepped ahead of him. ‘Coward. There’s nothing to be—’

  She gave a sharp cry and pitched forward.

  ‘Julia!’ Cato leaned forward and felt for her arm. As he found it, his fingers closed and he lifted her back to her feet and out of the darkened entrance. She looked shaken and Cato saw that there was a dark smear down the front of her stola.

  ‘There’s someone in there.’ Her voice trembled. ‘I tripped over him.’

  ‘Stay there. I’ll look.’

  Cato crouched low and eased himself into the entrance, feeling across the stone floor. His fingers brushed against cloth, and he probed further until he discovered a limb, a leg encased in a soft boot. Taking hold of the ankle he dragged the body out into the moonlight and stood up. The man’s dark outer robe was pulled up over his head.

  ‘Who is it?’ Julia asked. ‘Is he … dead?’

  ‘Only one way to find out,’ Cato muttered as he leaned over and pulled the loose fold of material down to reveal the face. The dark wavy hair and handsome features of a nobleman emerged into the dim light. As Cato continued to draw the robe back they saw the ragged slash that cut right across his throat. The garments on his upper body were drenched in blood and glistened in the moonlight.

  Julia touched her hands to her mouth. ‘Oh, no … Prince Amethus.’

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  The corpse lay on a low table in the guard room close to the gate. Cato had run to find Macro and between them they had carried the body here. Julia had arrived a moment later with her father.

  ‘Then it’s true.’ The ambassador nodded as he drew back the robe and made out the dead man’s features, streaked with blood. ‘Prince Amethus.’

  Julia glanced at the face and quickly looked away. ‘Poor man.’

  Sempronius flicked the robe back so that it covered the jagged tear in Amethus’ throat, but left his face exposed. ‘This has complicated the situation somewhat.’

  ‘Really?’ Macro folded his arms. ‘I’d have thought it made things simpler. With one son his father’s enemy and another dead, that clears the path to the throne for Prince Balthus. Which makes him the most likely suspect, don’t you think?’

  ‘Quite.’

  Cato thought back to the end of the banquet and shook his head. ‘No. Balthus was one of the last to leave. Just before us, and he left with some of the nobles. He couldn’t have done it. He wouldn’t have had the time.’

  ‘Maybe so,’ Macro conceded. ‘But then it’s obvious. He was setting up an alibi while someone else did the deed on his orders. Balthus is our man all right. He certainly had a strong motive. You remember what he said to us on the way here, Cato? All for taking the throne and disposing of his brother, with our blessing. It looks as if he’s not prepared to wait any longer.’

  Cato nodded slowly as he thought it over. ‘It certainly appears that way.’

  ‘Appears?’ Macro frowned. ‘Who else do you think could be behind this?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Have you sent anyone to notify the king?’ asked Sempronius.

  ‘No,’ Cato replied. ‘We thought it best to tell you first, sir. So you could be prepared.’

  ‘Prepared?’ Sempronius raised his eyebrows. ‘Prepared for what? Surely you don’t think I had anything to do with this?’

  ‘We assumed that you didn’t, sir. But it’s always best to have time to think a situation through before you have to act on it.’

  ‘There is that. Anyway, we’d better let the king know. Prefect, I want you to find Thermon. Tell him what has happened and tell him to inform the king at once. Then I want you to post one of your best men outside Prince Balthus’ quarters. They’re not to be obtrusive. I want him watched for any suspicious activity, understand?’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘Then go.’

  ‘Julia.’ Sempronius undid the folds of his toga and tossed it to one side. ‘Help me clean the body up. I don’t think the king should have to see him this way.’

  ‘Yes, Father.’ Julia turned to meet Cato’s eyes just before the latter turned towards the door. She shook her head in regret at their lost opportunity and Cato nodded in understanding. Then he turned away and hurried from the guard room.

  Thermon was still fully dressed when he came to the door of his quarters in response to Cato’s sharp rapping.

  ‘Prefect? What is it?’

  Cato nodded towards the guard who had escorted him from the entrance of the royal quarters. ‘In private.’

  Thermon sent the guard away and, when they were alone, tilted his head to one side. ‘Well, what is it?’

  ‘Prince Amethus is dead. Murdered.’

  ‘Murdered?’ Thermon clasped his hands together. ‘What happened?’

  ‘Someone cut his throat. I found the body.’ Cato paused to clarify the detail to avoid any suspicion. ‘The ambassador’s daughter and I found Amethus. At the bottom of the signal tower. Someone must have followed him when he left the banquet, knocked him cold and dragged him there before killing him.’

  ‘How could you know that?’

  ‘Amethus had no reason to be there, and his blood was pooled around him. There were no drag marks on the ground.’

  Thermon nodded at the explanation. ‘Has anyone told the king yet?’

  ‘No. That’s why I’m here. Sempronius thought it would be better coming from you.’

  ‘He’s probably right. I’ll do it at once. Where is the body?’

  ‘The guard house beside the gates.’

  ‘Who’s with the body at the moment?’

  ‘Centurion Macro, the ambassador and his daughter.’

  ‘Then find the commander of the Royal Guard, and Prince Balthus. Have them join us there.’

  Prince Balthus was the last to arrive. He had changed into a simple nightshirt and was attended by his slave, Carpex. Cato had not told him the reason for his summons, only that the king’s chamberlain had required him to attend. Balthus swaggered into the guardhouse with an irritated expression.

  ‘Someone mind telling me what in Hades is going on?’

  A small group stood round the table and as they turned towards the new arrival Balthus could see the body, and his father leaning over it, staring at the face of his dead son. Balthus hurried across the room and then slowed down as he recognised his brother.

  ‘Amethus? Dead?’

  Thermon nodded. ‘Yes, Prince.’

  Balthus stared at the body for a moment. ‘When did this happen?’

  ‘Shortly after the end of the banquet.’

  Cato coughed. ‘We don’t know that yet. Prince Amethus left before the banquet was over. His killer could have been waiting for him outside, or it might have been one of the guests who left shortly afterwards.’

  ‘I see.’ Balthus turned his gaze towards his father. Vabathus was sitting on a stool beside the body, staring at the still face. Dull unblinking eyes stared back at him. The old king lifted his hand and gently stroked the hair of his dead son, teasing it away from the forehead. One of the locks slid back into place the moment his father’s hand passed over it. King Vabathus smiled fondly. ‘He always did have unruly hair, even as a small boy … My son, My little boy.’

  He leaned, forward and kissed his son’s forehead, then pressed his cheek against Amethus’ head as the first tears trickled down his creased and weathered face.

  No one else spoke. They stood quite still and watched as Vabathus grieved for his son. At length, Balthus knelt down opposite his father and hesitantly reached over the table to put his hand on his father’s shoulder.

  ‘
Father. I’m so sorry.’

  Vabathus continued weeping, his chest heaving convulsively, quite oblivious of those standing around him. Even as august a figure as a king was reduced to a mere man, and a father, before the body of his son. Cato wanted to offer some comfort, some help, but knew that even now, in this most intimate of situations, there were boundaries of rank that he must not cross. He felt someone’s hand slip into his and glanced round as Julia looked up at him, and he saw that she shared his feelings, and sense of powerlessness.

  Eventually, Thermon cleared his throat and spoke softly. ‘Your Majesty … Is there something I can do?’

  When there was no response, Thermon leaned closer to his king and spoke again. ‘Would you like us to leave you alone for the present?’

  Vabathus blinked away the tears and sat up. Prince Balthus leaned back and rose to his feet. The king frowned and looked round at the others, as if they were complete strangers, until his eyes fixed on Thermon.

  ‘Who did this?’

  ‘We do not know, Your Majesty. We only just discovered the body.’

  ‘Who found him?’

  Cato swallowed nervously. ‘I did.’

  ‘And I,’ Julia added at once. ‘Just inside the signal tower, Your Majesty.’

  Vabathus looked from one to the other. ‘Was he still alive when you found him?’

  Cato shook his head solemnly. ‘He was already dead. We could not have saved him.’

  Vabathus glanced down at the body and then looked at Thermon. ‘I want the killer found. I don’t care how you do it. I don’t care how many suspects you have to torture. Find the killer.’

  ‘Yes, Your Majesty. I’ll see to it.’

  ‘You had better. Someone will suffer for this!’ Vabathus spat out. ‘They’ll die for it. If you can’t find the killer, then you’ll be put to death in their place.’

  ‘Sir?’ The chamberlain was startled, and drew back nervously before his master’s vehemence.

  Sempronius shook his head. ‘That isn’t right, Your Majesty. This man is blameless. I must protest that you should threaten him so.’

  ‘Protest all you like, Roman,’ Vabathus responded. ‘This is my kingdom. My will is law here. Thermon will do as he is told, or pay the price. Just as my son has paid the price.’ Vabathus’ voice faltered as he glanced down again. ‘I never said farewell to him. We parted on such bad terms, and he will never know that I loved him. How can a father endure that? I have lost him. Lost him for ever.’ Vabathus lowered his head and his chest shook as more tears came.

  Balthus drew a deep breath and spoke. ‘Father, you still have me. I am still here, at your side.’

  Vabathus looked up sharply. ‘You? You are worthless to me. The one son who is incapable of responsibly ruling my kingdom is all that is left to me.’

  Balthus froze, his lips pressing together in a thin line as his expression hardened into bitter hatred. ‘I am responsible, Father. I had to fight my way here to your side. Have I not proved myself worthy of some respect, some affection?’

  Vabathus stared at him for a moment and then shook his head sourly. ‘You just want my throne when I am gone. Amethus would have been king, until … this.’ He gestured at the body, wincing as he saw the torn flesh of his son’s throat. ‘Now he’s gone. I imagine that you are gratified by this state of affairs, Balthus. You can’t wait to have my crown. I can see it in your eyes.’

  ‘Father, you have lost a son, and I have lost a brother. Can you not at least let me share your grief?’ Prince Balthus warily extended his arms towards the king. ‘Father?’

  For a moment Vabathus gazed at his son with a pained expression. Then his eyes narrowed and he slapped Balthus’ embrace aside and shrank back. ‘Viper, how dare you? For all I know you are the one behind this. You and these Roman friends of yours.’

  ‘Roman friends?’ Balthus shook his head. ‘Father, do you accuse me of this murder? My own brother? Flesh of my flesh? How could I?’

  ‘I know you. I know your ambition. You desire nothing more than my throne.’ The king’s gaze flickered towards the ambassador and the other Romans in the room and Cato saw the fear in his eyes as he continued, ‘Enemies. I’m surrounded by enemies.’

  Sempronius shook his head. ‘Your Majesty, I assure you that we are your loyal allies. We had nothing to do with the death of your son.’

  Vabathus stared at him, unmoving, and Sempronius gestured towards Macro and Cato. ‘Is not the presence of these two officers and their men proof of our good faith towards your kingdom? We are not your enemies. On the life of my daughter, whom I love above all things, I swear it.’

  King Vabathus was still for a moment and then his shoulders sagged as he looked down at the body again. ‘Leave me. All of you, leave me alone.’

  Sempronius made to speak again but Thermon caught his eye and shook his head firmly, gesturing towards the door. The ambassador hesitated a moment, glancing towards the king, before he backed away slowly and quietly opened the door, ushering the two officers and his daughter outside. Thermon waited a moment before he whispered to Balthus.

  ‘My prince?’

  Balthus turned to him quickly and stepped in between the chamberlain and the king. ‘You heard my father. Get out.’

  ‘But …’ Thermon tried to step round the prince but Balthus blocked him.

  ‘Out!’

  The king stirred and looked up. He drew a deep breath and shouted, ‘Go! Both of you! Get out of my sight!’

  Balthus turned round, mouth open to protest, but his father stabbed his finger towards the door. ‘Go!’

  Thermon hurried out, and then a moment later Balthus followed him, taking one last glance at his father before he closed the door.

  Outside in the large open courtyard by the main gate the others waited and there was an awkward silence before Balthus spat with contempt. ‘I know what you’re thinking. You think I had Amethus killed.’

  ‘Well, did you?’ asked Cato.

  ‘Does it matter what I say? You already know what you believe.’

  Cato shook his head. ‘Not yet. I want to hear it from your own lips. Did you kill him?’

  ‘No,’ Balthus replied immediately. ‘There. Satisfied?’

  Macro snorted with derision. ‘Well, that proves nothing, friend. If you, or one of your retinue, didn’t kill him, then who did?’

  ‘Why not a Roman?’ Balthus smiled faintly. ‘You, perhaps.’

  Macro slapped a hand to his chest. ‘Me?’

  ‘If the king has no heirs then Rome will find it easier to annex Palmyra when my father dies. That’s motive enough. Of course, that means that you will have to make sure that I am killed as well.’

  ‘And you have nothing to gain from your brother’s death, I suppose,’ Macro countered. ‘Other than the fact that he was your only rival for the crown.’

  ‘That’s enough, Centurion Macro!’ Sempronius cut in harshly. ‘Keep quiet. You’re not helping.’ He turned towards Balthus and moderated his tone with some difficulty. ‘Prince, let’s accept, for the moment, that neither party had a hand in your brother’s death. We can’t afford to let ourselves become divided on this matter. Not while an enemy army surrounds us. You might think you have good reason to suspect us, just as we have good reason to suspect you. And, for now, it seems that the king suspects everyone. We have to put the matter aside until the siege is over.’

  ‘Put the matter aside?’ Balthus mused. He turned to Thermon. ‘What do you say, old man? You’ve been my father’s adviser as long as I can remember. Do you think he will put the murder of his son aside?’

  Thermon paused a moment before he replied. ‘His Majesty’s mind will be filled with grief for some days. Then, when Prince Amethus has had his funeral, I believe the king will not rest until he has discovered the identity of the killer and avenged his son.’

  ‘Very well,’ said Sempronius. ‘We have a few days’ grace then. Let there be no more exchange of suspicions. After the funeral we’ll all cooper
ate with the king to find the killer. Agreed?’

  Balthus nodded. ‘Now, if you don’t mind, I would like to return to my quarters so that I might grieve in private.’

  ‘Of course.’

  Balthus nodded curt farewells to Cato and Macro before he turned to Julia. ‘My lady, I trust that when this is all over we may come to know each other better.’

  Julia forced a smile. ‘I hope so, Prince Balthus.’

  He took her hand, raised it and then bowed his head to kiss it, lingering as his lips grazed her flesh. Julia remained motionless until he released her hand and then she drew back a step.

  ‘I bid you all good night then,’ Balthus said quietly, then turned away and strode back towards his quarters.

  They watched him for a moment before Cato gently took Julia’s hand and muttered, ‘Are you all right?’

  She trembled. ‘That man makes my flesh creep.’

  ‘You did well, daughter,’ Sempronius said with quiet pride. ‘He would never have guessed your feelings.’

  ‘I wouldn’t be worried if he had.’

  Macro puffed his cheeks out and scratched the back of his head. ‘Well? Do you think he did it? Did he kill his brother?’

  Sempronius thought for a moment before he replied, ‘No question about it. It has to be Balthus.’

  Cato nodded. ‘In which case, we’re in trouble. Deep trouble. We have an enemy at the gate, a killer inside and an ally who suspects us of killing his son. Long odds.’

  Macro chuckled grimly. ‘Since when did you take up gambling, my lad?’

  Cato was silent for a moment before he shrugged. ‘Since I met you, sir.’

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  ‘What do you suppose they are up to?’ asked Macro as he squinted, W trying to make out the activity down in the merchants’ yards on the other side of the agora. Cato was standing beside him on the gatehouse, shielding his eyes from the sun’s glare as he stared in the same direction. A hundred paces away the rebels were busy, and from beyond the wall of the merchants’ yards came the sounds of sawing and hammering.

  ‘Another ram, perhaps,’ Cato suggested. ‘They’ve had enough time to gather more materials.’