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 footsteps 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.
'Must have been a beggar,' Carpex suggested softly.'They sometimes sleep in the markets. Anyway, look there, master.'
Carpex indicated a stone structure in the centre of the square with a low arched doorway.
'What is it?'
'One of the entrances to the city's sewers.The engineers use it from time to time, but it's nearly always locked.' Carpex smiled. 'At least that's what they think.'
'Locked?' Cato shook his head in frustration as they approached the heavy studded door set into the stone archway. 'What now?'
'Just watch,' said Carpex as he examined the iron bracket where the bar slid into the masonry. Drawing his dagger, Carpex scraped some of the filth away from the edges of the st
ones and then inserted the blade in the gap where the mortar should have been. He wriggled the blade for a moment until a square-edged piece of stone began to come out. As soon as he could grasp its edges Carpex pulled it free and placed it carefully on the ground.The bolt was exposed and now Carpex could open the locked door. The bottom grated over the flagstone and then there was a groan of protest from the hinges. Both men winced, waited a moment for a reaction, and then slid through the gap.
'How did you know about the door?' asked Cato when they were inside.
'I arranged it that way, so the prince and I could slip in and out of the sewage tunnels without anyone's knowing. If you don't look at that piece of stone carefully you'd never know it could be moved. Come on.'
Carpex ducked under the low ceiling, lighting his way with the torch held out ahead of him. Cato followed. Just inside was a small stone platform, with several stained steps leading down towards the tunnel.
'Better shut the door, master.'
Cato eased it back into its frame, keeping the noise from the hinges as quiet and gradual as possible.Then he nodded to Carpex. 'There. Now let's go.'
The steps were dry at the top, but the last few were slimy and Cato trod warily as they descended through a small arch into the tunnel. His nose wrinkled at the stench as they paused in the light of the torch.The sewer stretched out on either side as far as Cato could see by the wavering glow of the small flame. The steps disappeared into the slowly flowing current of fouled water and after a small hesitation Carpex stepped down into the flow. It came halfway up his calves as he headed to their right, in the direction of the current. With a grimace, Cato followed him. The thick atmosphere was filled with the tang of shit and piss and Cato had to swallow hard as he fought the impulse to be sick.
'How far have we got to go?'
'A few hundred paces, master. Then we're beneath the citadel.'
They had waded no more than fifty yards when both men heard a muffled squeal of iron hinges, and they paused to look back down the tunnel. The sound of voices echoed off the rough stonework and a moment later a red glow marked the low arch where the steps led up to the entrance.
'Shit,' Cato muttered. 'That beggar must have found someone.That was quick.The other guard must have alerted the whole town.'
'What do we do?'
'Could you find your way from here in the dark?'
'No.'
'Then we have to go on! Fast!'
They moved on, splashing through the filthy stream in the wildly flaring glow of Carpex's torch.Then behind them came a shout, harsh and immediate in the closed tunnel, and the churning rush of several men coming after the two fugitives.
'How much further?' Cato gasped.
'Not far. Just up ahead, a tunnel branches to the right.'
Cato glanced up and scanned the side of the tunnel.The black mouth of an opening loomed up at the limit of the orange bloom cast by the torch.
'I see it!'
They splashed up to the junction and turned into the side tunnel.
'What now?'
'Follow it for a short stretch, until there's a curve, then there's the spur going towards the old stables of the citadel.'
'Right.' Cato followed the slave as he surged on. The pursuers were lost from sight for a moment, and even the sound of their progress had diminished now that Cato and Carpex were in the new stretch of tunnel. But all too quickly the entrance behind them was illuminated by a growing glow and a moment later the rebels had followed them into the side tunnel. Just ahead Cato could see the tunnel begin to curve, as Carpex had said it would. As they splashed round the bend the pursuers were again lost from view and then Carpex pointed.
'There! See!'
A small passage opened on to the main sewer, perhaps just over half the height of the tunnel they were in. As they reached it Cato glanced in and saw that the spur sloped gently up.
'Where does it go?'
'Directly to the barracks, master. It ends just below a grille.'
'Right.' Cato took the torch from the slave and thrust him into the small opening. 'You first. Go as fast as you can. But you stop the moment we hear the rebels.'
Carpex nodded and ducked down as he scrambled up the tunnel. Cato swung the torch underarm and then lobbed it as far down the tunnel as he could. It flared through the dark air, bounced off the wall in a shower of sparks and then fell into the stinking current, hissed a moment and died, pitching the tunnel into darkness. Cato felt for the rim of the entrance to the side tunnel and bent down to ease his way into it. There was no way of walking, or even crouching, and he went down on hands and knees. There was only a trickle on the sloping floor, but it was covered with slime and small pieces of rubble. Ahead of him he could hear Carpex grunting and scrabbling up the slope. His breaths came in strained gasps and the weight of the chain mail was quickly exhausting him. They had gone perhaps thirty feet when the sounds of their pursuers reached Cato's ears.
'Carpex!' he hissed as loudly as he dared. 'Stop!'
The small passage fell silent as they froze and Cato struggled to control his breathing as the rebels approached the end of the tunnel. The entrance gleamed briefly, and then they had passed it. Cato waited a little longer and then whispered, 'Go.'
On they went, climbing the spur in the pitch darkness, until Cato heard the sound of the rebels coming back down the tunnel. A voice called out and then there came the sounds of men scurrying up the small passage behind them. There was no longer any need for quiet and Cato called out to Carpex.
'They're on to us! Move yourself!'
They hurried forward, ignoring the stench and the muck beneath their hands and legs as they moved on all fours. Behind them, their pursuers, aided by the light cast by their torches, came on swiftly, their grunts and shouts carrying up the narrow tunnel as if they were breathing down Cato's neck. Then he was aware of the faint details in the walls ahead of him and realised that the rebels were closing on him. If they should catch up before Cato and Carpex reached the end of the passage there was no chance of being able to turn and hold them off. All Cato had was a sword. He had glimpsed at least one spear amongst the men following him. They could easily outreach him and he had no room to move to avoid being skewered.
The tunnel began to flatten out and Cato was aware of voices ahead of him. 'Almost there!' Carpex called back.
Cato glanced over his shoulder and saw, perhaps only fifteen paces behind him, the torch of the first of their pursuers, and the grimly determined expression of the man behind it as he scuttled forward.
The voices above them quickly grew louder and then Cato saw a dim shaft of light shining down into the tunnel just ahead. Carpex hurled himself forward to cover the last few yards and then he rose up and grasped the iron bars of the grille above him and thrust. The grille did not budge, and as Cato reached him he too straightened up and pushed with all his strength, gashing one hand on a broken prong. A small trickle of mortar fell on them and then with a sudden scraping rush the grille gave and toppled on to the floor of the room above with a crash. Carpex clambered up, grasping the edge of the hole as he dragged himself up and then rolled to one side. Cato cast a glance down the tunnel and saw that the nearest rebel was almost on him, and had dropped his torch and drawn his sword as he came on, teeth clenched, intent on getting his kill.
There was a sudden roar of surprised voices in the room above and Carpex screamed. But Cato thrust himself up through the hole, heedless of the danger, to escape from the murderous intent of the man coming along the tunnel.With a grunt of supreme effort he drew himself up through the opening. His torso was halfway through when he saw Carpex sprawled on the flagstones beside him. The slave wore a dazed expression and blood was oozing from his mouth. Around them, a crowd of men in blue tunics was closing in, shouting furiously. Several were armed and one leaped forward, sword raised as he made to smash the blade into Cato's head.
'Don't!' Cato screamed out in Latin, throwing his arm up in an effort to protect himself
as the blade swept down. 'I'm a Roman!'
08 Centurion
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
As soon as night had fallen Macro and Prince Balthus led their column along a less direct route than Cato and Carpex had taken. The Roman cavalry and Palmyran horsemen marched on foot, leading their mounts, whose hooves had been muffled by strips of cloth.The infantry had been ordered to leave their packs in a cave at the base of the hill and marched in a broken step carrying just their weapons in addition to their armour. All items of loose kit had been tied down so that the men might march as quietly as possible and all talk had been forbidden. The centurions and optios marched alongside their men, ears pricked for the slightest infraction of orders, which would result in a beating for any man they overheard.
As the column shuffled along in silence Macro could not help taking a great deal of pride in their achievement. They had crossed a wasteland and fought off an enemy to get this far and now their goal was in sight. However, unless Cato made it through to the garrison of the citadel, and then managed to persuade them to create a diversion so that Macro and the others could enter the city, this was almost as close to their goal as they would ever be. As he thought of his young friend, Macro once again regretted giving him permission to go with Balthus' slave. There were many other officers who would have done just as well, and Cato was needed by the men of his cohort. In truth, Macro realised as he pondered his decision, he too needed Cato in situations like this where timing, judgement and the ability to think on your feet were vital qualities. In a straightforward stand-up fight with an enemy Macro was in his element and there were few men in the legions who could match him as a battlefield leader. He was as strong and brutal as he was courageous and when the eager anticipation of battle flowed like fire through his veins he was open enough to admit that he actually enjoyed the prospect. Unlike Cato, who saw it as a necessary means to an end.
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