'That can't happen a day too soon,' Petronius added with feeling. 'I already have enough problems containing the situation on the upper Nile without this new trouble along the coast.' He paused and crossed over to the table, pulled up a stool and sat down, gesturing to Cato and Macro to do the same. The scribe remained sitting in the corner, discreetly taking notes. Cato glanced at him, mindful of the need to choose his words with care since Petronius would have a record of what was said.
The governor poured himself a drink before he continued. 'The province seems to be afflicted by a confluence of threats at present, even before this gladiator of yours turned up – assuming that you are not responsible for the actions that have stirred up the locals.'
Macro bristled, and Cato shook his finger slightly to warn his friend not to react. Petronius missed the gesture; he had his cup in both hands and was staring down at the shimmering surface.
'For the last three months the Nubians have been carrying out raids against our southern frontier,' he went on. 'Each time, they have penetrated further along the Nile, but always withdrawing before we could gather sufficient forces to trap and destroy them. It's my belief that they have been testing our defences and reconnoitring the ground in preparation for a larger operation. A few days ago I had that confirmed in a report from the strategos of the nomes on the border with Nubia.'
Macro looked at Cato and cocked an eyebrow. He cleared his throat. 'Excuse me, sir. What do you mean by these, er, nomes?'
Petronius looked at him irritably and shrugged. 'Should have known you weren't familiar with arrangements here. It's a hangover from the time before Rome made Egypt into a province. The nomes are administrative districts. Each one is under the control of a strategos and a local council. They did a good job of collecting the taxes and taking care of local legal matters so Rome saw no need to change things.'
Macro grunted. 'Glad to see the Greeks got something right.'
'Actually, the Greeks adapted the system from the natives.'
'What? The gypos?'
Petronius smiled. 'You really have no idea, do you?'
'About what, sir?'
'This province. Egypt was a great power once. Long before Rome was even a tiny village of farmers scratching a living on the banks of the Tiber.'
'Bollocks.' Macro jerked his thumb towards the heart of the city. 'That lot?'
'It's true, I assure you, though don't ever attempt to get one of the locals to tell you the full story, unless you have a few years to spare.'
Cato coughed. 'Sir? About the Nubians?'
'Oh yes.' Petronius refocused his thoughts. 'The strategos at Syene. Anyway, he sent several spies across the frontier to gather intelligence. Most didn't come back, then at last he heard from one. The man had seen columns of Nubian warriors massing a hundred miles or so beyond the cataract. They were led by Prince Talmis. He's the eldest son of the King of Nubia. He's already extended their kingdom into Aethiopia and has quite a reputation as a general. He means to enhance it by attacking this province, I'm certain of it.'
'But why?' Cato asked. 'Have the Nubians been provoked?'
'In a manner of speaking,' Petronius admitted. 'A year ago, the Emperor ordered me to send a survey to map the Nile to its source. I advised him that such an expedition would cause friction with the Nubians. They're a touchy people.'
'No doubt. I would imagine they suspected this was a prelude to invasion. Why else would Claudius want the area mapped?'
'The imperial secretary gave me his firm assurance that there are no plans to invade Nubia. The purpose of the expedition was purely scientific.'
Macro scratched his cheek. 'And you believed Narcissus, did you, sir?'
'Whether one believes Narcissus or not, once the Emperor gives the order then the thing is done. So I sent the cartographers up the Nile with a small escort, and a message of goodwill.' Petronius paused.
'What happened?' asked Macro.
'Prince Talmis sent their heads back with a message warning us to keep our noses out of Nubian territory.'
Cato leaned forward. 'And, naturally, you sent out a punitive column.'
'Of course. What else could I do? Rome is not prepared to suffer such an insult to her authority. Our men burned several of their settlements, enslaved over a thousand of their people and destroyed whatever irrigation infrastructure they came across. Since then we've had these raids and I've had to send reinforcements south to bolster our defences along the frontier. Under normal circumstances the garrison of Egypt is perfectly capable of defending the province and keeping order. We have two legions, the Third based here in Alexandria, and the Twenty-Second at Heliopolis. There's also nine cohorts of auxiliaries based in forts across the delta and along the Nile. However, as you well know, I had to lend my good friend Senator Sempronius three thousand men from the Third Legion and two auxiliary cohorts to put down the revolt on Crete. He has still to return most of those men. Right now, I have two cohorts of legionaries available to hold Alexandria. A thousand men to control over half a million. Not an easy job at the best of times. But since this business with Ajax began – if you're telling me the truth – the sailors and merchants have been up in arms demanding protection. That's over and above the usual friction we have between the Jews and the Greeks. Then there's the fellahin, the peasants, along the coast, ready to revolt, thanks to these raids on the villages and the sacking of that temple. Oh, and there's one other thing,' he added bitterly. 'The latest readings of the Nilometers suggest that we're in for a poor crop.'
'Too little water?' Cato surmised.
Petronius shook his head. 'Too much. The Nile's going to flood much higher this year, which means it will take longer to recede and the crops will have to be planted late. The fellahin are going to go hungry and the tax take is going to fall. I have the men to deal with the first problem, but as sure as Vulcan made little knuckledusters, I'll get it in the neck once the imperial treasury detects a shortfall in Egypt's tax take.' Petronius raised his hands helplessly. 'So, as you can see, your friend Ajax has arrived on the scene at the very worst of times.'
Macro's eyes narrowed darkly. 'Ajax is no friend of mine, sir.'
'Figure of speech,' Petronius excused himself lightly.
They were interrupted by a rap on the door frame. All three turned as a guard entered the room. 'Sir, got the gypo from the temple you wanted outside.'
Petronius winced. 'Soldier, I really would rather that you and your companions referred to our provincials in less pejorative terms.'
The man blinked. 'Sir?'
'Egyptians, not gypos, eh?'
'Yes, sir.'
'Very well, bring him in.'
Cato looked around at Macro and took a sharp breath as they waited for the survivor from the temple to be brought in to tell his tale.
CHAPTER FIVE
Hamedes was tall and solidly built. His bruised head had been shaved, but several days without any attention had left it with a dark furze. Somewhat younger than Cato, his eyes were deep-set either side of the wide curved nose that was typical of the native race. He wore a plain red military tunic, which Cato guessed must have been lent to him. He stood before them barefoot and unbowed. He spoke in Greek, fluently.
'You sent for me, sir,' he announced, somehow making the last word sound like a condescension.
'Indeed.' The governor nodded. 'I'd like you to tell your story to these two officers.'
'Why? I've already given a statement, which was taken down by your scribe. It's not necessary, a waste of time.'
'There's no need for the high and mighty act,' said Macro with a frown that would have unnerved a less easily subdued man than Hamedes. 'Just be a good lad and give us the details.'
The priest looked Macro up and down. 'And who might I be addressing, if I may ask?'
Macro puffed his chest out. 'Centurion-'
'Enough!' Cato intervened. 'You are here to answer our questions, not ask your own.'
'Really? I thought I was here b
ecause I am a witness to Roman aggression against the temple of Isis at Keirkut. The temple is now a ruin, and its servants are carrion meat for the vultures. I am here to see that they have justice, sir.' He paused briefly. 'That is, if those who come from Rome are familiar with the concept. Meanwhile, it seems that I am a prisoner.'
Macro glanced at Cato and spoke quietly. 'Quite full of himself, isn't he? If he wants to play us around then I'm quite happy to take on the role of interrogator.'
'Not yet,' Cato replied quietly. 'Let's see what we can learn by less obtrusive means, eh?'
He turned to Hamedes. 'The governor has asked us to join his investigation into the incident. We could read the report, but I would prefer to hear it directly from your own lips. It would be of considerable assistance to us in seeking the justice you desire.'
The young priest stared back, and then nodded. 'Very well. I am prepared to cooperate on that basis.'
'How good of you,' Macro muttered, and Cato shot him a warning look.
'Tell them what you told me, Hamedes,' said Petronius. 'If you please.'
'Very well.' He closed his eyes briefly to compose his thoughts. 'It was the last hour of the day when they came. The high priest had begun the ceremony of Ra's entry into the underworld. The senior priests were by the altar on the river landing. The rest of us were kneeling on the bank of the river, around the sacred barge. That's when I first noticed the sail. A Roman warship had entered the river from the sea and was making for the eastern bank of the tributary. The high priest seemed to pay it no attention and continued with the ceremony, preparing the bushel of wheat to be burned as an offering to Ra, the most wise and merciful.' Hamedes briefly clasped his hands together and bowed his head. 'The ship continued towards the landing. At the last moment they took in their sail and turned to come alongside the steps leading down into the Nile. At once the Romans threw down a ramp and came ashore.'
'Were they in uniform?' asked Cato. 'Like myself?'
'They wore tunics like yours but they were white. They had swords, shields and helmets like those worn by your auxiliaries.'
'Marines then,' said Macro. 'It fits with what we know.'
Cato nodded. 'Carry on. What happened next?'
'They surrounded us and forced us to gather around the barge of Ra, most wise and merciful.' Hamedes repeated his earlier gesture. 'Except for the high priest. They took him aside, to be questioned by their commander. He came ashore last.'
'Can you describe him to us?' Cato said evenly, ignoring the glance that Petronius shot towards him.
Hamedes frowned. 'Tall, muscular. Brown eyes. More Greek-looking than Roman, but then that's to be expected in Egypt. He wore scale armour, a plumed helmet and a blue cloak. And he had a sword, the same kind that all you Romans carry.'
'You saw him up close, then?'
'Yes, I was near him when he questioned the high priest.'
'So you would recognise his face again, if you were to see him?'
'I am sure of it.'
'Fine.' Cato waved a hand. 'Please continue.'
Hamedes nodded. 'He told the priest that he was acting under the orders of the governor at Alexandria. The officer announced that a new edict had been issued confiscating all the gold and silver held in the temples. He demanded that the high priest show him where our vault is. The high priest refused. He was angry. He told the officer that the temple was sacred ground and that the Romans were defiling it. He ordered the officer to take his men and withdraw. Instead the officer told his men to bring him one of the junior priests. Then he drew his sword and beheaded the man. He asked the high priest where the vault was again, and killed another man when he did not get a reply. He continued killing us, one by one, until finally the high priest spoke. He cursed the Roman, then took him to the vault. The Romans made four of us carry the caskets of gold and silver coin to his ship. Then, when we had finished, he began to kill the rest, starting with the high priest.' Hamedes paused, and when he spoke again there was a tremor in his voice. 'I saw the blood run down the steps and into the Nile…'
'Did you try to escape?' asked Cato. 'Did you hide perhaps?'
'No. I was too scared to move. I think we all were. Before I realised it, I was the last one alive. He came close to me, closer than we are now, and stared at me in silence for a while. I was sure that he would kill me, so I turned to the west to offer one final prayer to Ra, most wise and merciful-'
'Yes, thank you,' Macro interrupted. 'I think we can take that as read. Get on with it.'
Hamedes glared briefly at Macro. 'I prayed, then he grabbed my shoulder and pulled me round to face him. He said that Rome had had enough of the insolence of our priests. He said that the Emperor had decreed that it was time for the old religions to be erased. He told me that I had been spared so that I might spread the message. The officer said that I was to remember his name, and that he was acting according to the orders of your Emperor, Claudius.'
'Most wise and merciful,' Macro muttered, and shook his head apologetically as Cato frowned at him.
Cato turned back and fixed the priest with a steady eye. 'And what was the name of this officer?'
'As I told your scribe,' Hamedes said to Petronius and then nodded towards the corner. 'He said he was a prefect. Prefect Quintus Licinius Cato.'
'Are you certain?'
'Yes. He made me repeat it.'
'And then?'
'He struck me on the head with the guard of his sword. I was knocked cold. When I came to I was lying on the bodies of the other priests, my robes soaked in their blood. The Romans had gone. They had set fire to the priest's quarters, and they had filled the temple with wood, palm leaves and oil and set it alight. The paintings on the wall, the sacred records of the temple, all burned away. It blazed right through the night and in the morning all that remained was a scorched hulk.' Hamedes winced at the memory. 'I was alone. The temple was gone. All that was left for me to do was come here and seek justice. That, or revenge. I swear, by all the gods of my people, that I will seek out and kill this Roman, this Prefect Cato.'
'The man who attacked your temple is no Roman,' Cato said firmly. 'He is a slave, a fugitive, masquerading as a Roman. He has been murdering your people along the Egyptian coast for the best part of a month now.'
'He was a Roman,' Hamedes replied vehemently. 'Do you expect me to believe that he isn't? Were his men pretending to be Roman too? Was his ship pretending to be a Roman warship? What kind of fool do you take me for?'
'The warship was real. And those were Roman uniforms he and his men were wearing. The man's name is Ajax. He captured the ship and killed its crew. We have been pursuing him for some months now.'
Hamedes stared at Cato suspiciously. 'I don't believe you.' Petronius nodded towards Cato. 'Have you ever seen this officer before? Or the man sitting beside him?'
'No.'
'Be certain.'
'I am sure of it. I have never met them until now.'
'Then would it surprise you if I was to say that this man is Prefect Cato, and his companion is Centurion Macro?'
Hamedes shook his head. 'What trickery is this?'
'There's no trickery,' the governor told him. 'Well, none here and now, at least. This man is Prefect Cato and what he says is the truth. The one who attacked your temple and butchered your companions was an imposter. He intends to provoke your people into rebellion. He aims to fill their hearts with a desire for revenge. And he has been succeeding admirably. Now you know the truth. I need you to help us, Hamedes.'
The Egyptian still looked bewildered and Petronius softened his voice. 'You are a priest. Your people respect you and your word carries weight with them. I need you to tell them the truth. And not just them, but the Alexandrians as well.'
'What do you propose, sir?'
'I will summon the leaders of the merchants' and shipowners' guilds. I'll give them an audience in the palace and you can tell them what you have learned here.'
'Why should they believe me? You must k
now how the Alexandrians look down on us. Why would they take the word of an Egyptian?'
'Because I suspect that the ordinary Egyptians despise the Romans even more than the Egyptians are despised by the Greeks. If you take our side, it will give the Greeks something to think about. Better that the truth about Ajax comes from you than from us.'
Hamedes nodded. 'I understand. I just hope that I am believed.'
The following evening, Governor Petronius sat on an elaborate formal chair on a dais at the end of the audience chamber. He was flanked by Cato and Macro to one side and two scribes sitting on mats on the other side of the dais, one to take down the words of the governor, another the comments from his guests. As was his custom, Petronius ensured that there would be a record of the meeting since it might well become part of his defence at a subsequent trial in Rome should he ever be charged with corruption or incompetence.
The audience chamber was lined with towering columns with capitals in the characteristic lotus flower design of Egypt. This was the same audience chamber where the Ptolemies had handed out their decrees to their kingdom. The last of their line, Cleopatra, had played host first to Gaius Julius Caesar and then to Mark Antony in this hall, seated on the same dais as the present governor. However, the ceremonial glitter and solemn speeches of amity between two great powers had long since faded into history. In their place stood a crowd of anxious and angry Alexandrians, held in check by a line of stern-faced Roman legionaries. Hamedes had finished relating his experience and confirmed that the man who had claimed to be Prefect Cato was not the same as the man at the governor's side. Further witnesses who had been spared by Ajax were produced to support the governor's claim that the raiders were imposters.
At first only a few voices were raised to denounce the governor, accusing him of concealing renegades within the ranks of the Roman forces occupying Egypt. Petronius listened to the arguments for a moment, until too many voices were calling out for any sense to be made of what was said. He leaned towards Macro.
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