CHAPTER FOUR
They were left alone in the watchroom. The door
remained open and four sentries stood guard outside. The room
itself was well-proportioned with high ceilings and ventilated by
large windows high up on the walls. The distant sounds of the city
outside the palace merged into a constant low drone.
Cato was sitting at a
table, drinking a cup of water, savouring the fact that he no
longer had to limit himself to a small ration.
Macro glanced out at
the guards and crossed the room and sat on a stool opposite Cato.
‘What the hell is going on? Why are we under arrest?’
‘You heard him.
Murder and piracy.’
‘What kind of crap is
that?’ Macro fumed. ‘We’re officers of the Roman army. And you,
you’re a prefect.’
‘Glad you’ve
noticed.’
‘How dare they treat
you like this? By the gods, some fool will pay for this, and pay
dearly.’
‘Macro, there’s
obviously been some mistake. It’ll be sorted out. There’s no use
flaring up, you’re just wasting your energy.’ Cato filled another
cup and pushed it across the table towards his friend. ‘Here. Have
a drink.’
Macro gritted his
teeth as he controlled his temper. Then he took the cup and drained
it quickly and set it down with a sharp rap.
‘Another.’
This time he drank
more slowly then pushed the empty cup away. ‘That’s better. Bloody
tongue was starting to feel like a strip of old boot
leather.’
‘I know what you
mean.’ Cato nodded. ‘I hope water’s been provided for the men on
the ships. They’re still out there in the sun.’
Macro frowned at him.
‘I think you should be concentrating on our predicament rather than
theirs.’
‘Why? Didn’t you
always tell me that a good officer thinks of the well-being of his
men before his own? You used to be quite adamant about that when I
was your optio.’
‘Did I?’ Macro
grumbled. ‘What good is that doing you right now, eh?’
‘It’s taking my mind
off being stuck in here with a firebrand who is storming around the
place like a caged bull.’
Macro’s weathered and
scarred face creased into a smile. ‘Sorry. I just don’t take kindly
to being called a murderer and pirate. A killer and plunderer, yes.
That goes with the job.’
‘To some minds that
would seem to be a distinction of degree rather than category,
Macro,’ Cato replied wryly.
‘Really?’ Macro
raised his eyebrows. ‘Then fuck ’em, I say. I’m no
murderer.’
Cato had become well
used to the rather rough and ready nature of Macro’s soldier’s
sophistry and simply shrugged.
Their conversation
was interrupted by the sound of boots in the corridor outside the
watchroom and a moment later the guards stepped aside to admit the
centurion in charge of the arresting party, as well as the governor
of the province and a scribe. The centurion stood to one side and
bowed his head as he announced, ‘His Excellency, Gaius Petronius,
governor of Alexandria and the province of Egypt, and legate of the
Emperor.’
Cato and Macro stood
up and bowed their heads as Petronius strode to the centre of the
room and stopped, hands on hips, a dark expression on his face. He
snapped his fingers and pointed at the corner. The scribe hurried
over, sat cross-legged, and took a waxed tablet and stylus from his
satchel.
Petronius rounded on
Cato. ‘I let you take my forces to Crete to quash rebellion, not to
spread it about even more widely. You two have a lot to answer
for.’ Petronius glared at them. ‘You’ve got the entire delta region
up in arms and not just them. The merchants’ and traders’ guilds of
the city want your heads. I’m tempted to give due legal process a
miss and let the mob tear you to pieces, before their mood boils
over into open revolt.’ He folded his arms. ‘So please, in the name
of all the gods, tell me just what the hell you two think you are
up to?’
‘Up to, sir?’ Cato
shook his head. ‘I don’t understand.’
‘Bollocks! I’ve been
getting reports for the best part of a month that you have been
terrorising the coastal villages. Landing, demanding supplies and
killing those who refuse to cooperate. I’ve even heard that you
have been stopping ships, torturing their crews for information and
then killing almost everyone on board before you move
on.’
Macro and Cato
exchanged a quick look.
‘Oh, don’t deny it!’
the governor raged. ‘I have reports naming you. And a handful of
witnesses that you have been kind enough to spare. More than enough
evidence to have you nailed to a cross before the day is out. So,’
he forced himself to control his temper before he continued, ‘I ask
you again, what do you think you have been playing at? According to
the last despatch I had from Crete, you had been sent to track down
a renegade slave. Not to foment yet another rebellion here in
Egypt. I’m not sure who poses the greatest threat to peace in the
Empire, a renegade gladiator, or the two moronic thugs sent to
track him down. To add insult to injury you are using my men, and
my ships, to carry out your dirty work. Don’t think that has
escaped the notice of the mob either. One of my patrols was stoned
as it passed through the streets yesterday. I lost an optio and one
of the men. All thanks to you two and the heavy-handed way you have
gone about hunting down this character, Ajax.’
‘But we’ve done
nothing, sir,’ Macro protested. ‘None of it’s true.’
‘Tell that to the
witnesses.’
‘Then they’re lying.
Someone’s put them up to it.’
‘We shall see. My
prosecutors have been taking statements, gathering evidence. I
shall take every possible step to put you two on trial as soon as I
can. Then, a public execution. That might just be enough to satisfy
the mob and calm things down here in Egypt.’
Macro snorted with
derision. ‘You’re having me on! It’s utter shit, all of
it.’
‘Trust me, Centurion,
that’s exactly what is going to happen. What’s more, the Emperor,
and that snake of his, the imperial secretary, Narcissus, will
approve my action without a moment’s hesitation.’
Cato had been
listening to the heated exchange in silence. Now, as understanding
dawned, he smiled without humour.
‘What in Hades are
you grinning at?’ asked the governor. ‘I see no cause for
amusement.’
‘It’s Ajax, sir. He’s
responsible for all of this.’
‘Ajax?’
‘Of course. He’s been
covering his tracks. Better than that, he’s been stirring up the
locals in his wake.’
‘What do you
mean?’
‘We came across a
ship, adrift, a few days back. All the crew dead, save one who told
us that it was the work of Centurion Macro.’
Macro snorted. ‘Which
came as something of a bloody surprise to me, as you can
imagine.’
‘It also explains why
those villagers fled when we landed on the coast the day before,’
Cato continued. ‘He’s been a busy lad, our gladiator.’
‘I assume you can
prove this?’ said the governor. ‘Can this survivor of yours testify
that the man who attacked his ship was not Macro?’
‘Unfortunately not,
sir. He died soon afterwards.’
‘How
convenient.’
‘Not for us, it
seems. Nonetheless, you produce your other witnesses and see if
they can identify either of us as their attackers. That should
prove our innocence.’
The governor was
silent for a moment and then nodded. ‘Very well. You have a point.’
He paced to the door and clicked his fingers at one of the guards
standing outside. ‘You, go and fetch that temple priest, Hamedes.
He’s being held over at the palace barracks. I want him brought
here at once. Don’t tell him anything about these two officers.
Understand?’
The guard saluted and
turned to stride off down the corridor. Petronius returned to Macro
and Cato. ‘I’ll know soon enough if you’re telling me the truth.
One of the temples on the delta was raided ten days ago. The
priests were killed and the temple’s strongbox was taken. Only one
person was spared. He turned up at the gates of the city yesterday,
babbling about the Roman soldiers who had attacked the temple. He
was taken into custody to have his wounds dressed and to be fed and
rested before we took a statement. We’ll see what he says when he
encounters you two.’ He paused and stared at Macro and Cato for a
moment before he continued. ‘However, if you’re being straight with
me, and this is all the work of Ajax, then it seems we’re dealing
with a rather more dangerous and resourceful enemy than I
thought.’
Cato nodded. ‘Oh,
he’s all that and more. Utterly ruthless. My guess is that he has
ambitions to stir up a fresh revolt here in Egypt. That’s the only
thing that makes sense.’
‘But why?’ Macro
interrupted. ‘Why doesn’t he just run and go to ground? Find
somewhere to hide until we give up the chase, then he and his
followers can live out their lives as free men.’
‘No, they’ll always
be fugitives. Ajax knows that. There can be no peace for him. No
matter where he goes, Rome will never give up the hunt. So, all
that is left to him is to fight on. It’s all he knows. One way or
another he will always be our enemy. Until he is found and
killed.’
‘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.