Centurion c-8

by Simon Scarrow

  Shortly after noon a messenger from King Vabathus arrived at the makeshift quarters Macro was sharing with Cato.The latter had finally completed his inspection and reluctantly joined Macro in the cool interior of the citadel to sit out the heat and glare of the midday sun.

  'His Majesty requests your company at a small feast he is giving this evening in your honour,' the royal servant explained. 'At sunset. Formal dress code.'

  'Formal dress?' Macro's expression darkened. He gestured at his worn and dirty tunic and dusty boots. 'This is all we have. When we set off from Antioch we were marching to war, not a bloody dinner party.'

  The servant bowed his head and responded, 'His Majesty's chamberlain suggests that you procure some spare clothes from the Roman ambassador. His excellency Lucius Sempronius has already said he would be happy to provide you with tunics, togas and sandals.'

  'Oh, very well,' Macro grumbled. 'We'll be there. You may go.'

  The servant made a deep bow and backed out of the room, quietly closing the door behind him. Macro lay back down on his mattress, folded his arms behind his head and stared up at the rafters. 'Here we are, surrounded by bloodthirsty enemies and we're off to a fancy dinner. Still, at least it'll make a nice change from horsemeat.'

  'I suppose so,' Cato replied. 'But I hardly think it's going to do much for the morale of the people in the citadel to know that the king and his circle are feasting while they're on limited rations.'

  As the sun dipped towards the horizon and bathed the city in an orange glow Macro and Cato entered the royal quarters. At the rear of the citadel, tucked between the main building and the wall, was a small roof garden with a colonnade that stretched along each of the open sides. Occasional pergolas provided shade and small trees and shrubs grew in large tubs and raised flower beds. A slave was watering the plants as Macro and Cato entered and Cato could not help wondering about the king's sense of priorities. On the far side, overlooking the city wall and the lush oasis beyond, a number of couches had been arranged around low tables. An awning had been rigged above the couches and in the light breeze blowing in off the desert it gently shimmered and billowed. Most of the guests were already present. Cato recognised some of the nobles, alongside Thermon, Balthus, Amethus, Sempronius and his daughter.

  Cato felt a quickening of his pulse at the sight of her, but when she looked his way his gaze shifted to examine the other guests. He saw Balthus approach Julia and with a gracious bow begin to engage her in conversation.

  Sempronius smiled as he caught sight of the two officers and came over to greet them.

  'Centurion Macro, I see that my tunic is a bit tight around the shoulders.'

  Macro swung his arms loosely. 'It's comfortable enough, sir. I'll manage. And thank you for helping us out.'

  'My pleasure.' Sempronius turned to Cato. 'You on the other hand seem made to fit my clothes. They look even better on you than on me.'

  Cato shifted self-consciously and Sempronius smiled.

  'Don't grow too used to them. I'll want them back later on. Anyway, let me show you to your places.' He put a hand on each man's shoulder and steered them towards the couches. 'The king will be seated at the head of the centre table, when he joins us.Thermon and the princes will sit to his left and you two have been given the place of honour at his right. I and my daughter will be on the other side. Normally the locals don't approve of women feasting alongside the men, but they have made an exception for Julia.'

  'Very accommodating of them,' said Macro.

  'I suppose so, but I imagine it's mainly because Balthus has his eye on her.'

  'Really?' Macro looked at Cato and raised an eyebrow. 'That's understandable enough, sir. She's a lovely-looking young woman. Any man in his right senses would be proud to have her as his wife.'

  Cato glared furiously at his friend, while Sempronius frowned and said with evident sadness, 'I just wish her former husband had shared your sentiments. Anyway, the prince seems to like her well enough, which is useful.'

  'Useful?' Cato was surprised by the odd choice of word.

  'Of course. Right now I value any influence that I can get over Balthus, or any of these people. So please, think like diplomats tonight, and not like…'

  'Soldiers?' Macro suggested.

  Sempronius nodded. 'If you wouldn't mind. For the sake of the Empire.'

  'In that case,' Macro assumed a thoughtful expression, 'I suppose I might try to avoid any behaviour that could cause a scandal, although I can't speak for my friend Cato. He's the one you should keep an eye on.'

  'Really?' Sempronius looked at Cato with raised eyebrows.

  'Ignore him,' Cato muttered. 'Just ignore him.'

  Thermon rapped his staff on the ground and the conversation died abruptly as the Palmyran nobles turned towards the entrance to the roof garden and bowed their heads. Sempronius gestured to his companions to do the same. After a moment's stillness, King Vabathus came striding through the doorway. He swept through the small crowd of guests and eased himself down on to the royal couch. Thermon waited for his master to settle and then rapped his staff again.

  'All may be seated!'

  The guests hurriedly took up their places and a low hubbub of conversation slowly swelled to a more comfortable volume. Macro and Cato, lying on their couches to the right of the king, kept quiet, waiting to be addressed by him.Vabathus regarded them for a moment and then cleared his throat.

  'We owe you our gratitude, Romans, for the fine defence of the citadel gates this morning.'

  Macro bowed his head. 'Thank you, sir, but we were just doing our duty.'

  The king gestured towards Macro's arms. 'You are wounded?'

  Macro shook his head. 'Just some burns, sir. They'll heal in a few days.'

  'I see.' The king glanced past Macro to address Cato. 'And you?'

  'Your Majesty?'

  'Are you wounded?'

  'No,Your Majesty. Not today.'

  'Ah.' The king nodded and turned away with a dull expression to stare out over the wall, towards the oasis. The molten glow of the sun barely rimmed the horizon and long shadows spilled across the sand and the dark green fronds of the palm trees. Macro waited a little longer, in case there was any further remark from the king, and then he turned to Cato with a subtle shake of his head. But Cato was already looking the other way. Julia was lying beside her father and Cato was pleased that she was temporarily parted from Prince Balthus.

  'So tell me, Prefect.' Sempronius spoke just loudly enough in Greek for the other guests to hear. 'How much of a fight did the rebels put up?'

  Cato could not help a small smile as he considered the staged question and he made sure that his reply was equally audible. 'The majority of them are little more than a rabble, an armed mob. We have nothing to fear from them. Apart from that, I'm sure we can deal with Prince Artaxes' regular soldiers if they have the stomach for another fight. But I doubt they'll trouble us for a few days yet.'

  Sempronius nodded sagely. 'And by then, I imagine General Longinus will be approaching the city with his legions.'

  'I should think so, sir.'

  'Good.Then we're saved.' Sempronius turned to face the king's chamberlain, who was standing a short distance in front of his master's table, his post for the night as he oversaw the timing and announcement of each course.The two men exchanged a slight nod and Thermon rapped his staff and called out towards a small side door on to the garden. At once a steady stream of slaves spilled out carrying platters of food.The king was served with a large selection first and he began to pick at some meat dainties. Then the rest of the guests were presented with a somewhat less generous range of dishes. Macro propped himself up on his elbows and looked over the offerings before him.

  'Horsemeat sausage, horse steaks, horse cutlets in honey…' He forced a smile and raised his voice. 'Best rations I've had in months.' He paused as he saw a small bowl of what looked like a curious white fibrous fruit. He turned to Sempronius. 'Sir, excuse me. Do you know what those are?'


  'Those?' The ambassador glanced at the bowl and smiled slightly. 'Why of course I do. That's a local delicacy, Centurion. You should really give them a try. And remember, always use the right hand,' he added as Macro leaned forward.

  'Delicacy, eh?' Macro grinned. 'My favourite kind of food.'

  He reached over and plucked one out of the bowl. As he withdrew his hand and examined the object in his fingers his expression froze. 'It looks like an eye.'

  'It is. A sheep's eye to be precise.'

  'Sheep's eye? Good Gods! What kind of delicacy is that?'

  'One that you must try,' Sempronius insisted. 'And you too, Prefect, if you don't want to mortally offend our hosts.'

  'What?' Cato looked horrified. But there was an earnest expression of compulsion from the ambassador. Even so, Cato shook his head. 'I can't.'

  Despite his reservations of a moment earlier, Macro was amused by his friend's squeamishness. He leaned forward again and picked out another eye. 'Here, this one looks nice and juicy.' He held it out to Cato, who tried not to shrink away too obviously.Then Cato became aware that the other guests were looking at him expectantly, and reluctantly accepted the offering. Macro watched him with amusement for a moment and then winked.

  'Bottoms up!'With one swift movement Macro popped the eye he still held into his mouth and made a brief chewing motion before he swallowed and smacked his lips. 'Delicious.'

  Cato felt sick, but dared not refuse for fear of causing offence. He swallowed nervously, and with a last quick battle against his stomach's inclination to retch raised the eye to his lips and pressed it into his mouth. The tough muscle tissue surrounding the eyeball was slimy and tasted vaguely of vinegar. He tested the texture with his teeth and it was as unyielding and chewy as he had feared. Summoning up all his courage, he forced the eye to the back of his mouth and swallowed.

  The guests cheered and grinned at him, some holding up eyes for him to see, as if they were making a toast, before they ate them. Cato snatched at the goblet of wine that had been poured for him and took a big mouthful, swilling it round his teeth and gums to eradicate any hint of flavour left behind.

  'Well done.'

  Cato turned and saw Julia nodding at him. He forced a smile in return and replied in Latin,'Not so bad once you've tried it.'

  'If you say so. Now try some of the sweetmeats. They'll help take your mind off it.'

  As the guests settled down to eating their banquet, while continuing to talk in an animated fashion, Cato turned his attention briefly away from Julia to glance at the two princes sitting side by side, but not speaking, nor even willing to meet each other's gaze. It had been a mistake to seat them next to each other, Cato decided. The king's chamberlain had obviously hoped for a display of solidarity before the guests, but it was clear for all to see – the two brothers positively despised each other.

  Macro had followed his friend's gaze and guessed his thoughts precisely. 'So much for unity,' he said softly. 'I fear we're going to be fighting on two fronts before too long.'

  'Let's hope not.' Cato turned away and quickly helped himself to some chunks of spiced horsemeat in a rich sauce before Macro could offer him another eye.

  The king stirred and shifted himself to face his Roman guests. 'You're a lucky man, ambassador.'

  'How so,Your Majesty?'

  'You have a fine daughter. A loyal daughter no doubt.'

  'I like to think so.' Sempronius smiled and patted Julia on the arm.

  'Quite,' the king continued.'Sometimes I wish that I had had daughters, and not two younger sons who fight like wolves in a pit. They always have. And when they have not been fighting each other, they have been defying me. As for Amethus – well, at least he has a good heart, even if he has no brains.'

  Cato was astonished that the old man had spoken so openly before his sons. Behind Vabathus' back Cato saw Balthus staring rigidly ahead as he ate with a leaden lack of enthusiasm. On hearing the king's words Amethus had turned to stare at his father. Gradually his blank expression turned into an angry frown.

  Vabathus continued in a weary tone. 'Such has been my burden, and the burden of my people. For who shall inherit the throne after I am gone? The most able and cherished of the three has proved to be a traitor, the oldest changes his mind more often than the wind changes direction, and Balthus pursues his pleasures to the exclusion of all else. What chance of survival has my kingdom if I choose one of them to succeed me?'

  Prince Balthus set his cup down with a sharp rap. 'Enough! You do me wrong, Father! All I have ever tried to do is please you.'

  Although the guests stirred and the conversation died at once, King Vabathus' tired expression did not flicker, as if he had not heard a thing, or had simply heard it too often.

  'If you find fault in us,' Balthus continued, 'then I say it is your fault that you have not settled the matter of succession. Even though I am not your firstborn, I am the natural choice as your heir. If you had only confirmed me as your successor from the outset none of this would have happened. But no, you had to put it off.Year after year, and this is the result.Why do you think Artaxes is out there with his rebels? You dangled the prospect of the throne in front of his eyes for too long.You tempted him until his patience snapped. If you had only chosen me then Artaxes would have known his place, and he would not be out there with an army and we would not be caught in this trap…' Balthus shut his eyes and clenched his fists, trying to control his anger.

  Vabathus sighed. 'Have you finished, my son?' When there was no reply, the king gestured towards Sempronius. 'You see? What hope is there for Palmyra?'

  'There is always hope,Your Majesty,' Sempronius replied smoothly. 'I am certain that whoever succeeds you will be able to count on the friendship and support of Rome. Rome never abandons her allies.'

  Prince Balthus laughed at that, and turned to face the ambassador. 'It's funny how today's ally so often turns out to be tomorrow's imperial province.' He gestured towards his older brother. 'If this fool does succeed the king, then we might as well hand Palmyra over to Roman tax farmers and the Roman legions right now.'

  Amethus scrambled off his couch and glared down at his father. 'No brains… That's what you said. No brains. No mind of my own. Well, let me tell you… I've had enough of it. I'm not an idiot. I may not have the intell…' He paused and his brow twisted in concentration. 'Intelli…'

  'Intellect?' Balthus suggested. 'Intelligence?'

  Amethus nodded vigorously. 'Yes! That's the word.'

  'Which one?'

  'Both. Either. Anyway, the point is I still have a good heart. I know right from wrong and I would be a good king. That's what Krathos says. So I've had enough of being called a fool!'

  Amethus turned and strode across the roof garden and disappeared through the formal doorway, leaving the other guests shocked by the openness of the rift between him, his father and Prince Balthus.

  Vabathus shook his head sadly. 'You see what I have to put up with. You see my dilemma? I could weep for my people.'

  Cato and Macro had been startled by the previous outbursts and an embarrassed silence hung over those seated around the banquet tables. At length Sempronius cleared his throat and spoke in as reasonable a tone as he could manage. 'It has been a long day, Your Majesty. I expect everyone is exhausted.'

  'Yes.' The king smiled. 'Too tired to tame their tongues.'

  'Then perhaps we should all retire for the evening. I am sure that Centurion Macro and Prefect Cato are most grateful for the honour you have shown them tonight and would not object to an early end to the banquet, to allow tempers to cool.'

  'You are right,' the king conceded. 'It would be for the best.'

  The guests began to rise from their couches to take their leave of the king. Balthus went with them. Macro glanced round and then pulled a bread basket towards him and started loading it with the food spread out on the other platters. 'Here, Cato, lend a hand.'

  Cato frowned.'I'm not sure if this is the time or pla
ce for foraging.'

  'Well, if it isn't, when is? Suit yourself.' Macro cleared a few more platters and then grasped the handles of the basket and turned towards the king.

  'Er, thanks once again, your majesty.'

  Vabathus acknowledged the remark with a lift of his fingers and continued chewing slowly. The Romans were almost the last to leave, and as they reached the entrance to the roof garden Cato looked back and saw the lonely figure of the king sitting at the abandoned banquet, with only his chamberlain still standing before him to keep him company. Night had fallen and the velvet heavens were sprinkled with stars. Low on the horizon a nearly full moon was rising over the desert, bathing it in a faint ethereal blue glow.

  Cato fell in alongside the others.'Even if we do hold out until Longinus arrives, what will become of Palmyra?'

  Sempronius shook his head. 'I don't know. Unless Vabathus chooses an heir we can work with, Rome will have to intervene.'

  'Intervene?'

  Sempronius glanced round hurriedly and lowered his voice. 'Annex the kingdom, turn it into a province. What else could we do?'

  Macro nodded. 'With those two sons of his, there is nothing else.'

  As they headed down the corridor to leave the royal quarters Cato found himself walking alongside Julia. Her scent came to him again and as a warm rush of longing swept through his body he felt his heart beating against his chest. More than anything in the world he wanted to ask her to come to the signal tower again and gaze out over the city and the surrounding landscape. This time he would not be surprised by her presence, and it would go far better. He had sensed some kindred feeling in her and the desperation to know if he was right gnawed at him.

  They reached the end of the corridor, and the arch that gave out on to the paved area between the buildings and the gate. The ambassador's quarters were one way, and Macro and Cato's the other.

  Sempronius paused and clasped each officer's arm in turn. 'Fine work this morning. When I get back to Rome I will be sure to inform the Emperor.'