The Legion - Scarrow Simon (книги читать бесплатно без регистрации TXT) 📗

'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 for 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.