His left arm hurt like hell now that the numbness was beginning to wear off and Cato wriggled his fingers painfully as he tried to get some feeling back into the limb. He sheathed his sword and stepped back over the bodies towards Ajax. Kneeling down, Cato grasped the gladiator's shoulder and pulled the body over. The head, still in the helmet, lolled limply and faced away from Cato as the corpse sagged on to its back. He untied the chinstraps with the fingers of his sword hand and then, grasping the black crest, he pulled the helmet off.
'No…' He frowned as he stared down at the face, eyes staring blankly back at him and the mouth slightly open. 'No… NO!'
Cato glared at the body, then threw the helmet aside as he rose back to his feet. Around him the marines and legionaries stared at the prefect in surprise. Cato raised his hand to his forehead and rubbed it in frustration as he looked down again. The dead man was the same build as Ajax, and had the same dark hair, but that was where the resemblance ended. Cato took a deep breath and turned to stare bitterly at the other ship making for the far side of the bay beneath the swirling haze of smoke. He had been duped. Ajax was still alive.
CHAPTER TEN
Cato ordered the decurion to leave a squad of marines to take charge of the ship and then led the rest of the men back aboard the Sobek. As soon as the corvus was levered up from the deck of the other ship, the trierarch gave the order to fend off and unship the oars. The warship got under way and began its pursuit of the Thoth. Ajax had almost reached the far side of the bay, but there was no clear route to the open sea. Two of the Roman warships had angled across the bay and blocked his escape. Three more, besides the Sobek, were in pursuit and the last ship had hove to on the inshore side of the headland to pick up Macro and his party. Ajax was trapped. His ruse had only delayed his capture, or death, Cato decided as he returned to the turret to follow the chase. A moment later Phermon climbed up beside him.
'He'll not get away, sir.'
'I trust not,' Cato replied flatly. 'That would be difficult medicine to swallow.'
The trierarch squinted into the rising sun, then shaded his eyes as he followed the course of the ship. 'They're still on fire. Why haven't they put it out yet?'
'Perhaps they need every spare man on the oars,' Cato suggested.
'Hmmm.'
They watched in silence for a moment longer before the trierarch shook his head. 'In the name of the gods, what does that fool think he's doing? He's heading towards the mangroves at full speed. They'll run aground for sure.'
Cato nodded. 'Then that's his plan.'
'To escape through the mangrove?' The trierarch shook his head. 'Impossible.'
'Why?' Cato turned to him.
'Sir, I've patrolled the delta ever since I joined the navy. I know it well, and I tell you there is no more difficult terrain than the mangroves. Even if you can fight your way through the reeds and the roots, the mud will suck you down and the air is foul with the stink of decay. If that's not bad enough then the place is alive with insects and leeches, not to mention the crocodiles. It would be suicide to attempt it.'
'If he doesn't, then they face certain death.' Cato looked at the ship, no more than a mile away. 'If I was Ajax, I would take the risk. He has nothing to lose. If he escapes, then he can continue to plague Rome. That's what drives him on.'
As the rowers below deck bent to their oars and the Sobek surged across the bay, Cato watched the renegade ship with a growing sense of unease. Despite what Phermon had said, Ajax was determined and resourceful enough to fight his way through the dense tangle of mangrove.
'Look!' The trierarch stuck his hand out.
The mast of the renegade ship shuddered and then abruptly toppled forward across the port beam, taking the rigging and spar with it. Some of the oars had snapped, others had snagged so that, from afar, the ship looked like a broken insect as it ploughed a short distance into the reeds and low-lying trees of the mangrove before coming to rest. Disturbed birds flitted into the air and the dust and sand that lay like a dull patina on the leaves of the stunted trees stirred into a thin haze about the wreck. The fire flared briefly, then settled into a steady blaze while the smoke swirled into the air. As Cato watched, the tiny figures of the ship's crew picked themselves up off the deck. In moments they had lowered a gangplank into the shallows and the first of them clambered down from the ship, clutching a loose bundle in one hand and a sword in the other.
'They're getting away,' said Cato, his heart dulled by despair at the sight of the crew abandoning the burning ship and disappearing into the tangled gloom of trees and rushes. 'They cannot be permitted to escape, do you understand, Phermon?'
'Yes, sir.' He gestured down towards the deck. 'The lads are doing their best.'
Cato glanced over the side at the oars, sweeping forward and driving through the water, and up and forward again in a swift rhythm. He climbed down on to the deck and turned to face the legionaries clustered on the main deck. 'Listen here!' He waited a moment until they were still and he had their full attention. 'I want fifty men to pursue the enemy making off into the mangrove.' Cato pointed towards the enemy ship. 'You men were with me on Crete. You know what Ajax and his followers have done. You saw the atrocities with your own eyes. We have to capture or kill him and put an end to his foul work.' He turned to their commander, Centurion Rufus. 'I only want volunteers. Don't pick any wounded men. I don't doubt your men's courage, but it'll be hard going and open wounds will soon fester in those marshes. Those who'll follow me need to leave their armour behind. They're to take only shields and helmets, together with their swords. And rations and water for three days.' He gazed at them for an instant and then nodded. 'That's it. Those who are coming with me, be ready to march as soon as we reach the far side of the bay. Dismissed!'
He turned away and strode forward to the bows to watch as the warships closed up on the burning vessel stuck hard and fast into the twisted roots and silt of the mangrove. The trierarch looked over the side and gave the order to reduce speed, and then backwater, to kill the momentum of the ship as it drew close to the shore. The other warships had also slowed and gave way to the Sobek as she edged towards the mangrove, a short distance from the abandoned vessel. The air was filled with the crackle of flames and the sharp reports of bursting timbers. The fire was burning more fiercely than ever and Cato realised that Ajax must have given orders to feed the flames before he and his men had quit the ship.
'Phermon!' Cato had to shout to be heard over the noise of the blaze. 'Get some men over to that ship. See if they can put the fire out.'
'Aye, sir.'
There was the faintest of shudders beneath Cato's boots as the ship ran aground. At once the marines on the foredeck lowered a gangplank into the shallows, muddied by the impact of the ram.
'Here,' Cato called to the nearest of the legionaries. 'Give me a hand with the cuirass.'
While he raised his arms, the soldier eased the armour off Cato's shoulders and laid it on the deck. Cato nodded his thanks and then helped himself to a canteen, one of the waterskins and a haversack, hastily stuffed with hard bread and strips of dried beef. He slipped the strap over his shoulder and picked up a shield, then turned to Centurion Rufus. 'How many men came forward?'
'Fifty, sir. As you requested.'
'All volunteers, I take it?' Cato could not help a slight mocking tone.
'You know how it is, sir. An officer asks for volunteers and woe betide any man who takes him at his word.' Rufus grinned. 'That said, they're all good men. I picked the best.'
'Then let's go.'
As the burly centurion led the first section down the gangplank, Cato turned to the trierarch. 'When Macro and his men get across the bay, tell him to come after us. I should think it'll be easy enough to follow our path.'
'Yes, sir.'
Cato thought for a moment before he continued. 'Then take the fleet back to Alexandria and report to the governor. Inform him that I intend to pursue Ajax until I bring him to bay and finish him fo
r good. Then we'll make our way back to Alexandria. Got that?'
Phermon nodded. 'I'll tell him. And may the gods protect you, sir. I'll pray that Fortuna favours you.'
'I hope so. She's proved to be a fickle bitch from the moment the hunt for Ajax began.' Cato paused and looked at the trierarch gratefully. 'Have a safe voyage home.'
He turned and took his place in the line of soldiers waiting their turn to descend the gangway. The wooden planks bowed under the boots of the men making their way down and Cato had to watch his balance carefully when his turn came. At the bottom of the gangway he stepped into the murky water, which rose up to his thighs, and felt his way towards the shore. Stunted trees sprouted from tangled clumps of roots that disappeared under the water and the stench of rotting vegetation filled the hot air. The legionaries ahead of him swirled through the water towards a small earth bank where reeds grew higher than a man. There was a muttered curse as one caught his boot in some of the roots and pitched forward with a splash. He rose up dripping and grumbling, picked up his kit and continued towards the reeds. Cato probed his way carefully towards the shore and emerged from the cloudy water. Centurion Rufus nodded to him and then bellowed past Cato towards the remaining men.
'Come on, you lazy bastards! Pick it up!' He turned to Cato. 'I sent the first section on ahead, sir. Told 'em to try and keep up with Ajax's men but not to engage them.'
'Good.' Cato approved. 'And have the rearguard section make sure that they mark our progress through the mangrove. Centurion Macro will be following us.' Cato looked round at the dense vegetation and shallow water stretching out ahead of him. 'Besides, we might need to retrace our steps.'
'True, I'd hate to get lost in this place.'
'There's no knowing how far this extends. We have to catch up with Ajax before he finds a path through it and escapes.' Cato settled his waterskin and rations haversack behind his back and then picked up his shield. The air around him was still and hot and insects swirled in shafts of light where the rays of the rising sun pierced the leafy canopy. 'Let's get on with it.'
He gestured to Rufus to join him and strode to the front of the line of legionaries stretching across the small islet. The long grass had been trodden down and ahead a rough trail of hacked reeds indicated the way that Ajax had headed.
He snatched a breath, and caught the odour of rotting plants and stagnant water. 'Column, advance!'
Cato splashed down into the shallows and pushed his way through the reeds that closed in on both sides. Those who had gone before him had crushed some reeds underfoot and hacked away at others so that the passage of the fugitives was clearly marked. Cato hoped that the fact that Ajax was having to cut his way forward would delay and exhaust his men and make it easier for the pursuers to catch up. As the Romans closed on them, the renegades would be forced to turn and fight, or surrender. But there was always the danger that they might try to spring an ambush on the legionaries. Hopefully, Centurion Rufus's leading section would be able to foil any attempt to surprise the main column.
It was tough going and as the sun climbed higher into the sky, its heat blazed down on the line of soldiers struggling through the reeds. The lack of any movement in the air added to their discomfort and perspiration was soon trickling down from Cato's scalp so that he had to brush it away from his eyes as he plodded forward. Eventually Cato could bear the stifling constriction of his helmet no longer, and took it off and tied the straps to his belt. He told Rufus to allow the men to do the same, and pass the word down the line before they continued forward. Behind him, the centurion occasionally tried to swat away the swirling cloud of insects that had been drawn to the men, uttering foul oaths at the mosquitoes.
'Keep it down,' Cato told him softly.
'Sorry, sir. These little bastards are eating me alive. Wonder what they feed on when they can't get Roman?' Rufus swiped at a large mosquito hovering in front of his eyes. 'Hop it, you nasty little cunt.'
Ahead of him, Cato stopped dead and stared down at something a short distance to one side. 'There's your answer, Centurion.'
Rufus waded up to his side to see what Cato had spotted. A body lay in the water, torso collapsed back against the stems of the reeds. The eyes stared blindly at the sun and a trickle of dried blood from the sagging jaw stained the man's chin. There was a steady drone of insects as they fed on the corpse's sweat and blood.
'One of theirs, I think,' said Cato, noting the man's light complexion.
'Good. That means the lads in the leading section have caught up with the stragglers.'
Cato's lips wrinkled as a large mosquito alighted on one of the man's eyes. 'Here, hold my shield.'
He handed it to Rufus and then bent forward to examine the body more closely. The water was dark and brackish, and he could just see a vague outline below the surface. Reaching down into the water, his fingers brushed against a blade and he groped along the metal until he grasped the handle. Straining, he lifted the handle and the body rose up with it, breaking the surface with an oily swirl of ripples. The point of the sword and a good deal of the blade pierced the stomach at an angle close to the ribcage.
Centurion Rufus pursed his lips briefly. 'Suicide?'
'That, or his comrades did this to spare him from capture.'
'Why, sir?'
'Look there.' Cato pointed with his spare hand as he rolled the body over slightly. There was a large wound in the man's side, like a wide thin mouth. The water had washed most of the blood away, and now thin tendrils of red oozed over the exposed wet flesh. 'He was carrying a wound. He would have held them back.'
Cato released his hold on the sword handle and let the body sink back into the water. Rufus returned his shield and the pair of them returned to the narrow passage beaten through the reeds. The rest of the men had halted behind the two officers and stood, knee deep in the stinking water, as they rested on their shields. Rufus thrust his arm out as he saw one of the men raise his canteen and reach for the stopper.
'What the fuck are you doing, Legionary Polonius? Did I give you permission to take a drink?'
'No, sir.'
'Then lower that canteen and don't lay a bloody finger on it until I say so. You drink that, and pretty soon you'll have drained your waterskin as well. Then you'll die of thirst.'
The legionary hurriedly did as he was ordered and thrust the strap of the canteen over his shoulder.
'That's better.' Rufus stared at his men. 'We don't know how long it's going to take to catch the enemy. That water in your canteen is all that you have. You try even a sip of this liquid shit we're wading through and you won't have a dry arse for a month. If you live that long. So, you only drink from your canteen, and only when I say so. Is that clear?'
The men nodded.
'Then pick up your shields and let's move.'
Cato regarded the centurion with approval. Rufus was clearly old school despite a relatively soft posting to Egypt where the legions had not had to participate in a major campaign in living memory. His tone, bearing and the scars on his arms and face marked him out as a professional soldier, much like Macro, Cato decided.
There was a swirl in the rushes close by and a splashing as something large lunged towards Cato. He turned and crouched as he ripped out his sword and raised his shield. A hideous dark shape, water glistening on its knotted hide, burst from between the reeds and a long tooth-lined jaw opened and snapped down on the shoulder of the dead man. Cato froze for an instant, and before he could react the beast lurched back, dragging the corpse with it. There was a last blur of movement, and a leg jerked lifelessly and then the monster and the body were gone. Only the disturbed water, swaying reeds and the rapidly fading sound of splashing remained.
Cato swallowed, and stared at Rufus wide-eyed. 'What the hell was that?' he muttered.
'Crocodile,' the centurion replied, warily watching the spot where the beast had disappeared, as if it might return at any moment.
'Crocodile?' Although Cato had been warned about th
em this was the first he had seen up close.
Rufus nodded. 'They live on the Nile, and here in the delta.'
'So I've heard.' Cato slowly straightened up. 'Not too thick on the ground, I trust?'
Rufus slapped his cheek. 'Not as thickly as the insects… But there are enough of them about to cause a problem. The natives tend to keep away from them.'
'No surprises there.'
'Even so, the crocodiles take the odd peasant, or their mules.'
'They don't hunt them?'
Rufus smiled thinly. 'Who would want to? Besides, they're sacred to the natives.'
'Sacred?'
Rufus looked surprised. 'You've been aboard the Sobek for two months and you haven't worked that out, sir?'
'What?' Cato responded irritably.
'Sobek is the name of their crocodile god, sir.'
Cato frowned, cross with himself not to have made the connection. 'Well, if any of them get that close to me again, I may be up for a little sacrilege.'
'I doubt you'd get the chance, sir. They might look cumbersome, but I assure you they can outrun a man on land and outswim him in the water. Best stay clear of them, sir. Them and the snakes.'
'Snakes? Venomous snakes, I take it.'
'Deadly. The cobras particularly, sir. Though they prefer drier ground.'
'That's a small comfort. We have to go.' Cato turned to the other men and saw that several of them were still staring nervously in the direction of the fading rustling and splashing. 'The column will advance!'
He turned, lifted his shield with a grunt and set off again, warily glancing from side to side as he waded through the reeds. The thought of encountering another crocodile unnerved him, but Cato knew that they must press on. Ajax must be caught, whatever the cost. Cato thrust the thought to the forefront of his mind. That was all that mattered. He must lead by example and he forced himself on, pressing forward through the broken reeds, no matter what lurked there.
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