The Gladiator c-9

by Simon Scarrow

'All right then.'

  The captain turned away to shout orders to his crew and the sailors hurried aloft to shake out the reefs in the huge mainsail. At the stern, the steersman strained at the tiller, turning the Horus towards the sunset.

  'What is he doing?' asked Sempronius.' The fool is heading straight for the wave.'

  Cato nodded. 'Makes sense. The bows are the strongest part of the ship. If we meet the wave head on, we might break through it, if we can't ride over it.'

  Sempronius stared at him. 'I hope you are right, young man. For your sake, my sake and all our sakes.'

  As soon as the senator had spoken, Cato's mind focused at once on Julia and he called to Macro as he hurried towards the gangway leading to the cabins.' Get yourself tied to the mast, and take the senator with you.'

  'Where are you going?'

  'To get Julia and Jesmiah. They'll be safer on deck.'

  Macro nodded, then glanced towards the horizon, and now he could see the wave more clearly, rising up in a great bar that extended far out to sea, while the other end foamed and crashed along the coast. 'Be quick, Cato!'

  Cato ran across the deck and jumped down the short flight of steps into the passengers' quarters, where thin stalls accommodated those who had paid the most for their passage to Rome. Thrusting aside the canvas curtain that formed the makeshift entrance to Julia's quarters, he ducked his head inside. Julia sat on the deck, cradling Jesmiah in her arms.

  'Cato! What's the matter?'

  'No time to explain.' He stepped towards her, stooped and drew her up on to her feet. Jesmiah scrambled up at her side, wide-eyed with terror.

  'Master Cato,' her lips trembled, 'I heard some one say there's a monster.'

  'There's no monster,' he snapped, thrusting them both out of the stall and up towards the gangway. 'We have to get on deck, as quick as possible.'

  Julia stumbled up the steps towards the deck. 'Why? What's happening?'

  With a quick glance at Jesmiah Cato replied, 'Trust me and do as I say'

  They emerged on to the deck in a scene of terror and chaos.

  Macro had tied the senator to the foot of the mast and was hurriedly doing the same for himself. All around the other passengers and crew were doing the best they could to secure themselves to the vessel. The captain had joined the steersman on the small steering deck and both men braced their arms on the tiller and stared grimly ahead.

  Jesmiah stared round in horror and drew up.

  Cato grabbed her arm and dragged her roughly towards the mast.

  'Come on, girl! There's not much time.'

  As soon as they reached Macro and Sempronius, Cato thrust Julia and her maid down on to the deck and took up the tail end of the rope Macro had used to secure himself to the mast. Glancing up, he saw that the wave was much closer now, travelling at an extraordinary speed as it swept along the coast. He snapped round to the two women.

  'Raise your arms!'

  Running the rope round their stomachs, Cato circled the mast and tied the end into the loop round Macro's waist.

  'What about you, lad?' Macro looked up anxiously.

  'I need more rope.' Cato stood up and glanced round. Every spare length seemed to have been taken. Then his eyes caught sight of something over the side of the Horus, no more than fifty paces away in the sea. The glistening tip of a rock was exposed above the surface, and as Cato looked, more rocks emerged. Closer to the shore it seemed that some tidal current had drawn the water away, laying bare reefs and even the stunted upper works of an old wreck. The sight astonished him for an instant before a terrified shout from one of the crew snatched his attention back towards the wave. It was visible to everyone on the decknow. A great dark monster, crested with a haze of white spray as it came on in a rippling, glassy mass, straight towards the Horus. Ahead of it, the tiny wings of a seagull glimmered in the fading glow of the sunset, then the bird was lost in the shadow of the wave.

  'Cato!'

  He turned and saw Julia staring at him, struggling to reach out and grasp his hand. Cato knew there was no time to tie himself down. It was too late for him. He slumped down on the deck and squeezed himself between Macro and Julia as best he could, grasping them both round the shoulders. The light breeze that had been blowing along behind the ship abruptly died and the sail sagged like old skin from the spar, before suddenly being taken aback as the wave thrust the air ahead of it. The great mass of water rose up ahead of the ship, high, higher than the mast, and Cato felt his stomach knot as he gritted his teeth and squinted at the oncoming monster.

  The deck suddenly lurched as the bows swept up, and the air was filled with cries and wails of terror and the sound of the sea surging past the sides of the Horus. Those clustered about the base of the mast clung to each other as the deck canted at a crazy angle and a mountain of sea swelled up above the ship, dwarfing it. For an instant Cato was lost in abject awe before the mighty apparition hanging over the ship, and he saw the spume and spray fringing the top of the wave. With a scream, one of the crewmen came tumbling down the deck, silenced as his head cracked against the deck hatch.

  At that moment the Horus lost the brief struggle with the wave and slid back. A torrent of water crashed down over the vessel, snapping the mast off ten feet above the heads of the Romans tied to its base. Just before the black deluge of tons of water smashed down on the ship, Macro shouted up at the wave,'Fuck you!'

  Then the sea crashed over them. Cato's head was snapped back against the mast and for an instant he saw white. He opened his mouth to cry out and at once it was filled with salt water. A great force tore at him, dragging him out of the grasp of his comrades. He tightened his grip on the rope around Julia's waist while he clamped his fingers into Macro's shoulder for all he was worth. All sense of direction was lost as the ship rolled over, and his ears were filled with the roar and rumble of water boiling around him. Something struck him, and then thrashed around, tearing at him, and he realised it must be another of the crewmen. Fingers groped at his face and tore at his cheek. Fearing for his eyes, Cato had to release his grip on Macro and fight back, desperately thrusting the other man away. Then a fresh surge of water swept up both him and the other man, swirling them away from the stump of the mast in the darkness. For a moment the other man struggled like a wild animal, fighting for its life. Then he was gone and Cato felt himself rolling and twisting, over and over, as he clamped his mouth tightly shut and held his breath as best he could. Then, at last, he could bear it no longer and opened his mouth, desperate for air to ease the fire in his chest. Salt water surged down his throat and into his lungs, suffocating him, and he knew he would die.

  The wave swept on, leaving a swirling maelstrom in its wake. The hull of the merchant vessel came to the surface in a froth of bubbles and spray and lay glistening in the failing light for a moment before it slowly rolled upright. As the side rail and then the deck struggled to break the surface of the sea, there was little of the original super-structure that could be recognised. The figurehead of the Egyptian god had sheared off, leaving a splintered stump. The mast, sail and rigging had been swept away and the steering paddles were gone, taking the captain and the steersman with them. As the waters parted across the deck and gushed out of the scuppers, the Horus continued to roll, and for an instant it seemed that she might overturn again.

  Then, at the last moment, she paused and rolled back to settle low in the water, a floating wreck where once there had been a proudly kept vessel. Around the Horus swirled the flotsam of the shattered mast and spar, together with tendrils of the rigging. A few bodies bobbed to the surface and then settled on the water like old rags.

  Macro's head swayed to one side, and he blinked his eyes open and coughed, spraying salt water as he struggled to clear his lungs. He shook his head and looked around the deck. A handful of other figures were stirring, battered and dazed but alive, thanks to the ropes that secured them to the ship. Macro vomited up some water from the pit of his stomach, and spat on the deck to clear h
is mouth.

  'Charming…'

  He turned his head to see Sempronius smiling weakly at him, before he too began to cough and splutter. Sensing movement on his other side, Macro turned and saw Julia's face tightened into a painful grimace as she retched.

  'All right, miss?'

  'Oh, perfectly fine, thank you,' she muttered, and then froze.' Cato!

  Where's Cato?'

  Macro's gaze swept the deck, but there was no sign of his friend.

  He tried to think back, through the terrible darkness of the sea that had engulfed him.' He was holding on to me when the wave struck.

  Then… then I can't remember.'

  'Cato!' Julia cried out into the gloom, struggling to free herself from the rope that still bound her to the stump of the mast. Once she had loosened it enough she wriggled out and stood up.' Cato! Where are you?'

  Macro eased himself out of the cords looped round him and rose up beside her. He took a good look around the deck, but it was clear that there was no sign of Cato.

  'Cato's gone, miss.'

  'Gone?' She turned to him.' No. He can't be.'

  Macro stared at her helplessly, then gestured around the deck. 'He's gone.'

  Julia shook her head and stepped away from the centurion, raising her voice to cry out hoarsely, ' Cato! Cato! Where are you?'

  Macro watched her for a moment and then turned to help the senator to his feet.

  'Thanks,' Sempronius muttered. 'Better see to the girl, Jesmiah.'

  Macro nodded and looked down at the maidservant. She sat slumped against the foot of the mast, her head flopping loosely as the ship wallowed heavily on the swell. He knelt down and raised her chin tenderly. The girl's eyes stared blankly into the mid-distance.

  Then he saw the dark bruising that had begun to appear on the nape of her neck, visible even in the failing light. He lowered her chin and stood up with a heavy heart. 'She's had it. Broken neck.'

  Sempronius whispered, 'Poor devil.'

  'Dead?' Julia looked round. 'She can't be. She was tied down beside me.'

  'She's gone, miss, ' Macro said gently. 'Something must have hit her when the wave struck. A loose block, part of the mast. Could have been anything.'

  Julia crouched down in front of her maid and grasped her shoulders. 'Jesmiah! Wake up. Wake up I tell you! I order you to wake up.' She shook the shoulders violently and the dead girl's head wobbled obscenely. Macro knelt down at her side and took her hands in his. 'Miss, she's gone. She can't hear you any more. There's nothing you can dofor her.' He paused and took a breath to calm his own emotions. 'And nothing for Cato, neither.'

  Julia looked at him angrily, and then her features crumpled and she was racked by a deep sob as she clasped her hands to her face.

  Macro hesitantly put an arm round her and tried to think of some words to comfort her. But none came and they sat there as the dusk thickened about the ship. Now that the wave had passed on down the coast, the sea gradually settled into a calm, gentle swell.

  At length Macro rose to his feet and tugged the sleeve of Sempronius's tunic.

  'You'd better take care of her, sir.'

  'What?' The senator frowned for a moment, still dazed by the wave, and the fact that he was still alive. Then he looked down at his daughter and nodded. 'Yes, you're right. I'll look after her. What now, Macro?'

  'Sir?'

  'What are we going to do now?'

  Macro scratched his chin. 'Try to keep the ship afloat for the night, I guess. Have to see where things lie in the morning.'

  'Is that it?'

  Macro took a deep breath. 'I'm no bloody sailor, sir. I'm a soldier.

  But I'll do what I can. All right?'

  As the senator sat down and put his arm round his daughter, Macro straightened his back and called out across the deck.' On your feet, your dozy bastards! Over here, on me, sharpish. We've got a bloody ship to save!'

  As the figures shambled towards him out of the gloom, Macro glanced over them, still hoping to see Cato emerge from the shadows, alive and well. But he was nowhere to be seen amongst the scared and stunned expressions of the survivors who clustered around the stump of the mast.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Your captain's gone,' Macro announced. 'And the man on the tiller. So who is next in the chain of command?'

  The crew looked at each other for a moment before an older man shuffled forward. 'That'd be me, sir. The first mate.'

  'Can you work the ship?'

  'I suppose so, sir. I share watch duties with the captain. Well at least I did, until…'

  The man gestured towards the stern and shrugged his shoulders.

  Macro could see that he was still in a state of shock and could not yet be counted on to meet the challenge.

  'Right then, I'll take charge for now. Once the ship is seaworthy again you will take over as captain. Agreed?'

  The mate gave a resigned shrug. Macro looked round the deck as a small wave sent spray bursting over the low side of the waterlogged ship. 'First thing we do is lighten the ship. I want all the passengers and crew to start jettisoning the cargo. Once we're riding higher in the water we can begin to bail out.'

  'Sir, what cargo should we begin with?' asked the mate.

  'Whatever's closest to hand. Now open the deck hatch and get on with it.'

  The timbers of the hatch had splintered as the cargo tumbled around when the ship had rolled over. Once the ties had been undone, Macro and the others wrenched the battered planks away and threw them over the side of the Horus. The last light of the day was fading fast as Macro leaned over the coaming and stared down into the hold. Whatever order there might have been in the loading of the cargo, there was no sign of it in the jumbled heap of broken amphorae, sacks of grain and bales of material that filled the hold. Sea water sloshed about below.

  'Right then, let's get to work,' Macro ordered. 'Take what comes to hand and get it over the side.' He pointed at the nearest of the crew. 'You four, into the hold. The rest of you take what they pass up and throw it overboard.'

  The crewmen swung their legs over the side of the hatch coaming and warily eased themselves down into the hold, bracing their feet carefully on the jumbled cargo. Macro spotted some small wooden chests near the top of the pile. 'We'll have those first.'

  As the first chest came up on deck the mate stared at it and swallowed nervously. 'Sir, you can't throw that over the side.'

  'Oh? Why not?'

  'These chests are the property of a Roman lord. They contain rare spices. They're valuable, sir.'

  'That's too bad,' Macro replied.' Now pick the chest up and get rid of it.'

  The mate shook his head.' No, sir. I will not be held responsible for that.'

  With a sigh Macro bent down and lifted the chest up, strode over to the side and threw it into the sea. Turning back to the mate, he could not help being amused by the man's horrified expression.

  'There you go. See? Not so difficult when you try. To work, the rest of you. I don't give a shit what anything's worth. It all goes over the side. Got that?'

  The crewmen in the hold began to work in earnest, heaving the loose items of cargo up on to the deck, where their comrades stood ready to dispose of it all. Macro returned to the mate and muttered in a low voice, ' Now then, if you don't mind, I think you should lend a hand saving your bloody ship.'

  The mate saw the serious expression on the centurion's face and nodded quickly before jumping down into the hold to. help the others.

  'That's better,' Macro nodded.

  As more chests, and bales of sodden material were heaved up on deck, Sempronius and his daughter approached Macro.

  The senator cleared his throat.' Can we help?'

  'Of course, sir. The more hands the better. If these sailors look like lacking, kick ' em in the arse. We have to lighten the ship as quickly as we can.'

  'I'll see to it.'

  'Thank you, sir.' Macro turned to Julia. 'You might as well take shelter in the stern, miss.'


  Julia raised her chin defiantly.' No. Not while I can do anything to help.'

  Macro cocked an eyebrow. 'I know what Cato meant to you, miss.

  Best that I let you deal with your loss. Besides, it's man's work. No offence, but you'd just get in the way'

  'Oh really?' Julia's eyes narrowed. She slipped the drenched cloak from her shoulders and let it flop on to the deck. Bending down, she lowered herself into the cargo hold, picked up one of the chests with a grunt and heaved it up towards the deck. Macro looked at her and shrugged.

  'As you will, miss. Now then,' his expression hardened, 'I'd better see to the dead.'

  'Dead?' Sempronius looked at him. 'It's a bit late to do anything for them, don't you think?'

  'We must lighten the ship. They have to go over the side as well, sir,' Macro explained gently. 'I'm no stranger to death, so let me do it.'

  'Over the side?' Sempronius glanced towards the stump of the mast where Jesmiah's body lay slumped. 'Even her?'

  Yes, sir.' Macro nodded sadly. 'Even her.'

  'Such a shame,' Sempronius mused as he stared at the body. 'She's not had much of a life.'

  'More than some get, sir. And her death wasn't as bad as it could have been.' Macro briefly recalled the siege of the citadel at Palmyra where he had first met Jesmiah. If the citadel had fallen then, she and all the other defenders would have been put to the sword, after being tortured, or raped. But the senator was right: Jesmiah's life had been cut short, just when she might have had some happiness. Macro sighed as he crossed the deck and bent down. She was still fastened to the mast by a rope around her middle, and Macro drew out his dagger and quickly sawed through the coarse rope and tossed the ends aside. Sheathing his blade, he slid his hands beneath the body and picked her up. Jesmiah's head lolled against his shoulder, as if she was dozing, and Macro paced steadily to the side of the ship and lifted her over the rail.

  He took a last look at her young face, and then lowered her to the sea, letting her drop with a splash. Her hair and clothes billowed in the water before a slight swell bumped the body against the side of the hull and carried her out of reach. Macro sighed and turned away to find the next corpse. There were only three more; the rest of those who had been lost had been swept over the side, like Cato, when the titanic wave struck the Horus. Macro paused as he thought of his friend once more. Cato was the closest thing to family that Macro had in the world. In the years they had served together he had come to regard him as a brother. Now he was dead. Macro felt a weary numbness in his heart, but he knew that the grief would come later on, when he had time to think.