The Gladiator c-9

by Simon Scarrow

  'We're safe,' Macro said in relief.

  Cato lowered his oars and turned to embrace Julia as she stumbled towards the centre of the boat and fell into his arms. For a while all was still on the little craft. Cato held her tight, pressing his cheek to the top of her head as he breathed deeply. Macro turned away and stared after the liburnian as it disappeared around the small island at the end of the rocky peninsula and headed out to sea.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  Three days later, Sempronius surveyed the remains of the rebel camp as he and his escort rode down to the beach where the remaining ships were undergoing repairs. The rest of the grain fleet had set sail the previous day, making directly for Rome, where the cargo should arrive in time to stave off any hunger and prevent the mob from having an excuse to riot. Despite his relief and joy that his daughter had been rescued, Sempronius's mood was soured by the inevitable aftermath of such a serious revolt on the island.

  The senator had little doubt that there would be small reward forthcoming from the emperor for saving the grain fleet, and consequently keeping the peace on the streets of Rome. Four of the ships had been lost in the attack, and the officials in charge of the imperial granary would inevitably lodge a complaint against those they held responsible for the recovery of the fleet. Some kind of official reprimand was inevitable. Sempronius sighed. Sometimes being in the service of Rome was a thankless task, and he had to draw satisfaction from the knowledge that he had served his Emperor as best he could, despite losing four of the ships.

  The loss of the grain was least of it, he reflected. It would be years before the province of Crete recovered from the earthquake and the slave revolt that had followed it. Although the revolt was over, there were still some unsavoury matters to deal with. Centurion Fulvius and his men had shown no mercy to the rebels and the bodies were still being buried in great pits dug into the rocky soil around the bay.

  Thousands of them, men, women and children. The survivors had been sent back to Gortyna in long chain gangs under the guard of the hard-hearted men of the legions, who would show no pity to those who straggled or fell by the side of the road. Sempronius had passed them on his way to Olous: lines of captives with bleak expressions now that they had been returned to slavery after a brief taste of freedom. They were destined to be held in a special camp outside the city until their owners could be identified and informed. If the owners were dead then they would be come the property of the emperor and auctioned off. The sums raised, minus the hefty commission due to the auctioneer, would be forwarded to the imperial treasury in Rome. Sempronius smiled bitterly at the thought that at least some one in Rome would profit as a consequence of the revolt.

  An even graver fate awaited those slaves who had been identified as the ringleaders, or who had been captured under arms. They were being held at Olous pending shipment to Rome, where they would be put to death in the arena. It was rumoured that Claudius was contemplating a gladiatorial spectacle in an artificial lake being constructed outside Rome. A re-enactment of the battle of Actium, with scaled-down ships and thousands of condemned men to man the fleets. Sempronius was certain that the contribution from Crete would be welcomed and the rebels would be consigned to a role that left them little prospect of survival.

  Sempronius felt bitter that Ajax had escaped. He should have been tortured and put to death, before the gaze of his followers. Every indignity that he had visited upon Sempronius's daughter would have been repaid with interest. As yet the details were mercifully vague, and Cato's report had been terse in its description of her and Macro's period of captivity. For that Sempronius was grateful. He tried not to let his imagination fill in the gaps in Cato's account. That was unbearably painful and caused him such grief as he had not known since the death of his wife, the only other person he had ever loved without qualification.

  At least Julia was alive and safe, Sempronius comforted himself.

  She was with Cato in his camp at Olous. That made the orders he had sent back to Cato difficult to write. But he knew that he must authorise a pursuit of Ajax as swiftly as possible. The emperor would demand it. Therefore Centurions Macro and Cato were to pick up Ajax's trail and capture or kill him and his followers. Sempronius had revoked Cato's temporary promotion to tribune now that the crisis was over and he had returned to his normal rank. Their orders informed Macro and Cato that they were to act with the full authority of the governor of Crete in this matter, and all Roman officials they encountered were charged to extend themevery possible aid. Ajax, and everything that he stood for, was to be eliminated as ruthlessly and completely as possible, so that every person in the empire knew the fate that awaited slaves who rose against their masters. Two of the liburnians from Balbus's squadron had been commandeered, as well as two centuries of legionaries.

  Centurion Fulvius had already complained and would no doubt try to stir things up between Sempronius and the legate back in Egypt.

  That was too bad, reflected the senator. He would always be grateful to Petronius for his support, and swore to Jupiter, Best and Greatest, that he would return the favour to his old friend one day.

  Meanwhile, he made straight for the headquarters tent and the reunion with his daughter. After they had embraced, he held her at arm's length, looking for signs of injury, or a deeper hurt in her eyes.

  Julia smiled back.

  'I'm all right, Father. Truly. You don't have to look at me like that.'

  He held her close again, because he did not trust himself enough to contain the tearful joy that filled his heart. At length he eased himself away from her.' Now then, where is this young man of yours?'

  'He's down in the bay with Macro, provisioning their ships.' Julia paused and looked earnestly at her father. 'Must he go? So soon?'

  'You know he must,' Sempronius replied firmly. 'It's his duty.'

  'Duty.' Julia smiled sadly. 'Always duty. It's a curse, that's what it is.'

  He nodded sadly. 'It is always the curse of those who serve the empire with distinction, my dear. Come now, let's go and find him.'

  The two liburnians lay beyond the damaged grain ships, and as Sempronius and Julia rode up towards the warships they could see that the men were loading the last of their stores. Legionaries, stripped to their tunics, were carrying spare weapons, kit, rations and water aboard up the narrow gangways that stretched from the shallows to the decks. Macro and Cato were standing on the beach conferring as they checked the entries of supplies on a large waxed tablet. As they noticed the approach of the governor and his escort, they turned to salute him.

  Sempronius dismounted and strode across to them.

  'Good to see you again, Macro. I was afraid I'd be denied that pleasure.'

  Macro was thinner and his face was still peeling from his prolonged exposure to the sun. He stepped forward to clasp the arm that Sempronius extended to him.

  'I don't die easy, sir. Never have and never will.'

  'Delighted to hear it!'

  They shared a smile, and then Sempronius turned to Cato.

  'Would you mind if I had a brief word with Macro before I speak with you?'

  'No, sir,' Cato replied with a slight frown and turned towards Julia.

  'You can come and sit with me.'

  They walked beyond the final consignment of stores piled higher up the beach and sat down on the sand. Julia leaned her head against Cato's shoulder as he placed his arm around her. They did not talk for a moment, too aware of the imminence of their separation. At length Julia muttered,'It's not fair.'

  'No.'

  'Have you any idea how long you will be gone?'

  'That rather depends on Ajax. But I shall come and find you in Rome the moment he is taken or killed. I swear it.'

  Julia nodded but kept her silence, and Cato knew that she was struggling not to show her feelings. Every so often he glanced back towards the senator and Macro, and saw that they were locked in earnest conversation. Sempronius held Macro's arm and seemed to be entreating him
to share a point of view. At first Macro seemed reluctant, but then, as he looked briefly at Cato and thought a moment, he consented and they shook on it.

  'Cato!' Sempronius waved him over.

  He and Julia stood up and strode back down the beach to rejoin the others. Macro stood still with a serious expression as Sempronius regarded Cato gravely.

  'I have had to make a difficult decision, Cato, and one that you might find hard to live with at first,' Sempronius began. 'But it is my judgement that this mission has the best chance of success with you in command.'

  'Me?' Cato stared at him and then looked to Macro. 'Surely not?'

  'That's what he says,' Macro replied. 'And he's right. I agree with the senator.'

  'Why?' Cato felt pained by the situation. He had always assumed that he was destined to be Macro's subordinate in the years to come.

  It seemed the only natural way to be. Macro had taught himeverything about soldiering. It was to Macro's experience and qualities as a soldier that Cato looked when he needed to set himself an example. He turned back to Sempronius. 'Sir, I am honoured, but I can't accept this. Macro is my superior.'

  'He is that, in many things,' Sempronius conceded. 'But this task will require more skills, more circumspection than raw soldiering.

  That is why I have chosen you.' He reached into the small bag that hung from his belt and drew out a scroll. 'This is your letter of appointment to the rank of prefect.'

  'Prefect?' Cato was astonished. The rank paved the way for appointment to the command of an auxiliary cohort.

  'It is subject to the emperor's approval, of course,' Sempronius continued. 'But I hope that I can persuade Claudius to make the promotion permanent. If anyone deserves it, you do. Congratulations.'

  They clasped arms briefly, then Macro stepped forward.

  'I'd like to offer my congratulations too.' He gave a broken smile.

  'Sir.'

  The word cut through Cato like a knife. It did not seem right.

  Not natural. He forced a smile in return. 'Thank you… for everything.'

  Macro nodded, then jerked his thumb at the furthest liburnian.

  'My lads are done. I'll have the ship put into the water, if that's all right, sir?'

  'Yes.' Cato nodded. 'Whatever you say'

  Macro sighed, wagged a finger, then turned and strode towards the gangway of his ship.

  'He's a good man,' Sempronius said. 'You're lucky to have him as a friend.'

  'I know that, sir.'

  Sempronius turned to Cato and was silent for a moment.' Do you have any idea where that gladiator is headed?'

  Cato nodded.' Once he put out to sea, the ship was seen to turn south, sir. Towards Africa.'

  'I see.' Sempronius cleared his throat and stood back. 'You have your orders, Prefect. See they are carried out.'

  'Yes, sir!' Cato stood to attention and saluted. He turned to see that the last of his stores had been carried aboard. There would be no privacy for his final parting with Julia. He took her hands, feeling the tremor of her flesh against his as she did her best not to let any tears show. He leaned forward and kissed her, letting his lips linger for an instant as they grazed hers. Then he released her hands and made his way up the gangway and gave the order to the trierarch to put to sea.

  As he stood on the small aft deck, Cato watched the sailors, marines and legionaries crowd aft to raise the bows as the oarsmen unshipped their oars. Then, as the flute player began to give the time, the oars propelled the ship back from the beach into deeper water.

  Once they had sea room, the trierarch dismissed the marines and the sailors returned to their normal stations. The trierarch turned towards Cato. 'Your orders, sir?'

  Cato looked down the deck, conscious that he was being watched closely by the men he was about to lead on as dangerous and difficult a mission as they would ever know. He cleared his throat.

  'Pass the word to the other ship that we are heading out to sea.

  Once we leave the bay, we set course for Africa.'

  'Aye, sir.'

  As the trierarch cupped his hands to his mouth to relay the order across the sea between the two vessels, Cato turned towards the shore. The senator and his daughter were still standing where he had left them, and Sempronius raised his hand as he saw Cato look at him. Cato, mindful of his new rank and responsibility, simply saluted and then turned away. He swore a private oath at that moment to be worthy of the confidence of the senator, and more importantly of his friend Macro. He also swore that he would not rest until the gladiator was dead and he could return to Julia's side.

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  Simon Scarrow

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