CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
‘Will he live?’ asked Cato.
The surgeon did not
answer immediately but sat still on his stool beside the legate’s
bed and considered his patient. Outside, dawn was breaking and the
bucinas were rousing the men in the camp at Karnak. Macro and Cato
stood to one side of the surgeon, sand and dust griming their
faces. They had returned from the far bank, with the two Roman
casualties, during the early hours. Aurelius had been carried down
to the river on a stretcher fashioned from two cavalry lances and
some cloaks. As soon as the boat crossed to the landing platform,
the legate was rushed up to the infirmary while the archer went to
have his wounded arm cleaned and dressed.
It took an hour for
the surgeon to set the legate’s broken limbs as well as he could
and then splint them. The head wound was a more complicated affair
and the blood had to be carefully washed away before the wound
could be cleaned and examined. Aurelius lay on his side, his body
tightly packed with bolsters so that he did not move. His breathing
was ragged and Cato could see that the back of his head was badly
misshapen beneath a thin linen dressing through which the blood was
slowly seeping.
‘Live?’ The surgeon
looked up from his patient. ‘I doubt it. He’s lost a lot of blood,
and some brain matter. It came away when I was removing the skull
fragments. I’ve put in a brass plate and sewn the scalp up.
However, I don’t hold out much hope. Anyway, even if he does
survive, his brain is damaged beyond repair. He would be condemned
to spend the rest of his days as a simpleton. Death would be a
mercy for him now.’
Cato nodded. ‘I see.
Then I’d be obliged if you would write up your conclusions and have
them entered in the legion’s log book.’
The surgeon stood up
and faced Cato. ‘Sir, I have a hospital full of wounded men
following the actions of the previous two days. I have to devote my
attention to them before I can deal with any reports.’
‘I understand,’ Cato
replied gently. ‘However, you must do as I say. The legate, though
alive, is no longer capable of performing his duties. Therefore
authority over the legion, and the rest of the army, passes to the
next officer in the chain of command.’
‘Namely you,
sir.’
‘Precisely. There
must be no doubt that I have followed the correct protocols in
assuming command. I cannot afford to have my authority challenged.
For the sake of the men.’
‘And to cover your
back, in the event that the campaign does not end well for Rome, no
doubt.’
‘You can think what
you like. But I need your statement entered into the records.’ Cato
spoke firmly. ‘At once, if you don’t mind.’
The surgeon
hesitated. ‘And if I do mind?’
‘Then at once in any
case. That is an order.’
‘Yes,
sir.’
Cato turned to Macro.
‘Centurion, come. We need to talk.’
He turned and walked
from the room set aside for the legate’s treatment. Macro followed
him, falling into step with Cato as they emerged from the hospital.
They made their way across the temple complex towards the southern
entrance and the headquarters beyond.
‘That’s a pretty bold
step,’ said Macro. ‘I’m not sure the governor is going to be happy
that you’ve assumed command of the army. It’s all that stands
between Prince Talmis and the lower Nile.’
‘The governor is far
from the centre of operations,’ Cato responded. ‘He is in no
position to judge what course of action should be taken. In any
case, the latest reports we have are that the Nubians are no more
than a day’s march from here. What would you have me do? Send a
request to him asking for advice on how we should proceed, and then
sit on my arse and wait for his response? By then we’ll have been
overrun and Prince Talmis would be well on his way to Memphis and
the delta region. It’d be a bloody disaster, and you know
it.’
‘Of course I do.’
Macro smiled. ‘But then I’m not the one taking control of the army.
If nothing else, it proves that you’ve got balls of solid iron, my
friend.’
‘Oh?’ Cato turned to
him. ‘Don’t think for a moment that I’m the only one who is
sticking his neck out. I might be taking on the command of this
army, but my first act is going to be to make you my camp prefect.
So you’d better hope we come out of this covered in glory because
the alternative won’t smell nearly so sweet.’
‘The thing that is
puzzling me is how the hell Ajax could have got away from us,’
Macro fumed as he settled on one of the comfortable stools in the
legate’s quarters. ‘We had the right tomb. His men had been in
there and he had left two of his injured behind. We didn’t miss any
side passages or openings. So he must have got out before we closed
the trap.’
‘Obviously.’
‘But then how did he
get out of the valley? He couldn’t have climbed out, not without
being seen, and he couldn’t have got by us.’
Cato was silent for a
moment. ‘He didn’t. We got past him.’
Macro frowned. ‘What
are you talking about?’
‘Think it through,
Macro. As soon as we knew which tomb he was in we made straight for
it. Marched right into the valley and turned up that side track
towards the tomb you searched. So what do you think
happened?’
Macro thought a
moment and took a sharp breath. ‘It couldn’t be that simple,
surely?’
Cato shrugged. ‘How
else could he have escaped? He must have heard us march by. By the
gods, I wouldn’t be surprised if he had been bold enough to watch
us from one of those tombs at the entrance to the valley. As soon
as we passed out of sight, he and his men emerged, crept back down
the track towards the Nile and made their escape.’
‘He could be anywhere
by now,’ Macro reflected.
‘That’s
right.’
Macro shook his head
in wonder. ‘Ajax has to be the most cunning bastard we’ve ever had
to deal with, aside from that little shit Narcissus back in Rome.
He must have known we’d try to work out his hiding place, then he
let us see just enough to convince our scouts before switching his
men to another tomb. Clever.’
‘Yes, clever. Or
perhaps there’s another reason he got away from us.’
‘You mean luck? He
just happened to switch tombs at just the right moment?
Unlikely.’
‘Extremely unlikely.’
Cato folded his hands together and leaned over the legate’s table
to concentrate his full attention on Macro. ‘I’m talking about
something else, Macro. I’m saying that I think Ajax was warned. He
was told that we had sent scouts to find his hiding place. That’s
why he changed it and was able to trick us.’
‘Warned? Who
by?’
Cato did not reply.
He was quiet for a moment as his tired mind put his thoughts
together. At length he leaned back and addressed his friend in an
even tone. ‘Don’t you think that Ajax has had a rather
extraordinary run of good fortune since we’ve been pursuing him
across Egypt?’
‘Good fortune?’ Macro
pursed his lips. ‘What do you mean, exactly?’
‘Let’s start with
recent events. Ajax’s escape from the temple. You remember the
cavalry prefect’s report about the massacre of one of his patrols.
He said that the attackers had used a password to get close. So,
how did they get the password?’
‘Might they not have
overheard someone using it? Like Junius said.’
‘They might, but the
men are pretty good at talking only as loudly as they must when
making challenges. Even so, the man who gave the password was in
Roman kit.’
‘I suppose they could
have stripped one of the bodies of the men we lost in the first
assault.’
Cato nodded. ‘That’s
what I thought. So I checked with one of your optios before we left
the temple to head for the valley of the tombs. All the bodies were
accounted for, and so was their kit.’
Macro stared shrewdly
at his comrade. ‘This isn’t something that’s only just occurred to
you, is it?’
‘I had my suspicions.
Then when we got to the valley, there was the business with the
wrong tomb being identified, and then the legate falling from the
ramp.’
Macro shook his head.
‘That was an accident.’
‘You saw it
happen?’
Macro was exhausted
and had to concentrate hard to remember the details of what had
happened in the tomb. ‘We were on the ramp . . . An arrow was shot
at us. I heard a cry . . . Turned and saw the legate falling. Yes,
it was an accident.’
‘Tell me, who was
standing closest to the legate when it occured?’
‘Hamedes was there,’
Macro replied, and then he stared intently at Cato.
‘Hamedes.’ Cato
nodded. ‘Precisely.’
Macro was silent for
a moment as he took the accusation in. ‘Are you saying he’s a
traitor?’
‘That implies that he
has betrayed us. I think he never was on our side in the first
place. Think about it, Macro. What is his story? He was the only
survivor of Ajax’s raid on his temple.’
‘Yes, but he was
spared by Ajax to let others know who was responsible. Just like he
left other survivors.’
‘True,’ Cato
responded. ‘Which is why we were predisposed to believe
him.’
Macro shook his head.
‘This is too far-fetched, Cato. If there is a traitor out there, it
isn’t Hamedes. I know the lad well enough. He’s been straight with
us. Why, he’s faced every danger we have. These other things you
mention are just coincidences.’
‘Like the cobra in
our tent? Ever wondered where that came from? Did you notice that
Hamedes had a large kitbag when he boarded the barge in Cairo? It
was a lot smaller when he disembarked. Then there were the
fragments of a broken jar close to the tent. I wonder what the jar
had contained, and where it came from? Just more coincidences? Tell
me, have you never had any grounds to doubt him?’
Macro thought back
over the time he had known the young priest. He recalled the raid
on Ajax’s base and the fire in the lookout tower that had given
away their presence to the rebels. Hamedes could have lit the fire
easily enough while the rest of them were preoccupied. The seeds of
suspicion that Cato had planted were readily watered by Macro’s
recollection of that event.
There was a knock on
the door frame and an optio stepped into the room.
Cato looked up at
him. ‘Yes?’
‘I’ve brought the
priest to you, sir. As ordered.’
Cato glanced at
Macro. ‘Let’s see what Hamedes has to say for himself. Send him in,
and stay with us.’
‘Yes, sir.’ The optio
beckoned round the door frame. ‘All right, gypo, this way. Smartly
now!’
Hamedes entered the
room, wearing a tunic. He looked dazed, as if he had just been
woken. He smiled as he saw Macro and Cato. ‘How can I help you,
sirs?’
Cato stared at him
without any expression and sat back in his chair. ‘You can tell me
what your real name is, for a start.’
Hamedes’ smile faded.
‘Sorry? What did you say, sir?’
‘You heard me. I want
to know your real name.’
Hamedes opened his
mouth, closed it and looked helplessly at Macro. ‘I don’t
understand.’
Cato puffed
irritably. ‘Let’s try another tack. How long have you known Ajax?
Did you join his rebellion in Crete, or did he recruit you from
amongst the slaves of the ships he has raided since
then?’
Hamedes swallowed
anxiously. ‘Sir, I am a humble priest. I have every reason to hate
Ajax as much as you do. He butchered my brother priests and looted
our sacred temple. I am Hamedes. You have to believe me, sir . . .
please. I swear to you, on all that I hold holy, I am no spy.
Believe me.’
Cato smiled coldly at
him. ‘By the gods, you would make a fine actor. No doubt that is
why Ajax picked you for the task. Turns out to have been a good
choice. After all, it was you who saved him from the temple, and
later the tomb. And it was you who pushed the legate into the
pit.’
‘No!’ Hamedes shook
his head. ‘I didn’t do that. It was an accident. Centurion, you
were there. You saw him fall.’
‘I saw him fall,’
Macro agreed quietly. ‘But he could have been pushed.’
Hamedes looked at him
with a horrified expression. ‘You think I did it?’
‘I . . . I don’t
know.’ Macro shook his head slowly. ‘Fuck, I really don’t
know.’
‘Well, I do,’ said
Cato. ‘There’s more than enough evidence that points the finger of
guilt at this man. After Ajax’s escape from the temple, we know
that someone in the army has been helping him. It was the escape
from the tomb that confirmed my suspicions. This is our spy.’ Cato
paused. ‘And there is only one punishment fit for a
spy.’
Hamedes’ eyes widened
in terror. ‘None of this is true! I’m innocent. By the gods, I
swear it!’
Cato ignored him and
turned his attention to the optio. ‘Take him away.’
‘What will you do to
him?’ asked Macro.
‘We’ll have him
crucified at dawn, then send his head to the enemy. If Ajax has
found his way back to the side of Prince Talmis, it will let him
know what fate he and his men have awaiting them.’
The optio strode
forward and grasped Hamedes by the arm. ‘Come on,
lad.’
Hamedes stood his
ground, and the optio yanked him round harshly and steered him
towards the door and out into the corridor.
‘You’re making a
mistake!’ Hamedes wailed. ‘I’m not a spy. I’m
innocent!’
Macro and Cato heard
the sounds of a scuffle as the optio dragged him away. Then there
was a shout.
‘Oi, you bastard!
Stop!’
Macro sprang up from
his chair and ran to the door. Along the colonnade he saw Hamedes
sprinting towards the exit. The optio had been knocked to the
floor, but he recovered quickly, and drew his dagger as he rose to
his feet. With a well-practised hand he flicked the dagger over so
that he held the blade, then took quick aim, drew his arm back and
threw the small blade as hard as he could after the fleeing figure.
Macro saw the blade spin through the air before it struck Hamedes
hard, just below his neck. His legs instantly collapsed under him
and he fell, rolled over once like a child’s doll and then lay
still.
‘What’s happened?’
Cato asked as he emerged behind Macro. ‘Oh . . .’
The optio trotted
forward and bent over the body. He placed a boot on Hamedes’ head
and pulled his knife free. He looked up at the two officers. ‘He’s
done for, sir.’
Cato
nodded.
Macro cleared his
throat and muttered, ‘I suppose it was a better end for him than
the one he deserved. We were lucky, sir. If you hadn’t exposed him
now there’s no telling how much more damage he would have done to
our side.’ Macro frowned and then admitted, ‘I never suspected him
. . . Never.’