The Gladiator - Scarrow Simon (бесплатная регистрация книга txt) 📗

'It's strange to hear them singing.' She spoke softly. 'After all that they have lost.'

'I suppose so, but perhaps song is one of the few things the wave and the earthquake couldn't take from them.' Cato turned his head and kissed her brow gently, shutting his eyes as he slowly breathed in the scent of her hair. He felt her tremble. 'What's wrong?'

'Nothing.'

'Nothing? I know you better than that.'

Julia shifted round and stared up at his face, dimly lit by the stars.

She cupped his cheek in her hand. 'Cato, my love, I nearly lost you the night of the wave. I thought we were all finished when the water closed over us. In the cold darkness of the sea I gave in to terror. In the last moment sI drew some comfort that at least we would be together in whatever afterlife there is.' She swallowed and continued.

'Then, when the ship rose back out of the sea, I saw that you were gone. I still lived, but you had been taken from me.' She glanced away, quickly wiping her eye. 'At that moment I felt like my heart had been ripped from my body. I remember thinking that I wanted to die. To throw myself into the ocean so I could be with you. For a moment, that was all I wanted to do.'

'Then I'm glad you didn't.'

'Cato, that's not funny. I mean it. I had no idea how much you meant to me until that moment when I thought you were dead.'

'But I didn't die,' he kissed the palm of her hand,'thank the gods.

We're still very much alive, my love, and we have everything to live for.'

'I know.' Julia nodded. 'Perhaps knowing that means some good has come out of all this.'

They looked across to the refugee camp on the side of the hill opposite the acropolis. Some more people had gathered round the fire where the singing had begun and added their voices. The tune was clearer now, and Cato and Julia listened to it for a while. He could not help feeling moved by the juxtaposition of the burden of so much tragedy and the cheerful lightness of the song that pierced the shadows of the night lying heavily upon the hilly landscape. He held Julia close to him and spoke softly in her ear.

'I want to make love.'

'Now?' she whispered. 'Here?'

'Yes.'

She looked at him for a moment before kissing him on the lips, slipping her hand gently behind his head and drawing him towards her as she eased herself back on to the cool grass of the terrace garden. Cato felt a warm rush to his loins as he began to harden. They kissed a while longer, revelling in the touch, the scent and the warmth of each other. Then Julia opened her legs either side of him and said, ' Now, my Cato. Now. I want you inside me. But watch that leg of yours...'

Cato felt a fresh tingle of ardour as he recalled it all again. He smiled at Julia trundling alongside him in the cart.

'I know what you're thinking,' she laughed.

'Is it so obvious?'

'Trust me. You're a man. Of course it's obvious.'

They both laughed. The nearest troopers of the mounted escort turned to look at them with curious expressions, before turning their attention back to the surrounding landscape, watching for signs of danger.

They approached Gortyna at dusk, without incident, and caught sight of the city as the road rounded the curve of a hill. After his experience of Matala, Macro was surprised to see that the province's capital appeared to have suffered far less damage than the port. To the side of the road leading to the main gate was a marching camp. A section of auxiliary troops guarded the entrance. Macro pointed to them.

'Who are they?'

Cato reined in as he drew alongside. 'Detachments from the Fifth Gallic and Tenth Macedonian, from the garrisons of Cnossos and Axos. The reports from the north of the island said that there had not been nearly as much damage there, so Sempronius sent orders for reinforcements to be marched to Gortyna. There should be more men coming from the other cities over the next few days.'

Well that's something.' Macro nodded. 'As long as they aren't as out of condition as the boys of the Twelfth Hispania. We're going to need some good men to sort things out. What I'd give for a few cohorts from the Second Legion right now.'

'Not every auxiliary unit is like the Twelfth,' Cato countered.

'Those men we commanded at Bushir and Palmyra were fine soldiers. You said so yourself. As good as legionaries.'

'True enough,' Macro conceded. 'But that was only because we worked them hard, Cato. Drilled ' em hard and drilled ' em regularly. We made them ready for war. Trouble with garrison units is that most of their officers let them go soft. In time they're little better than the layabouts of the town watch. I'd lay good money that most of the auxiliary cohorts on Crete are cut from the same cloth.'

'Perhaps. But we can't know for sure.'

Macro looked at him. 'Really? Care to make a bet that there's not one man amongst that lot fit to take his place in the Second Legion?'

Cato considered the wager for a moment and shook his head. 'I can think of better ways to waste my money '

They left their escort at the city gates, and the decurion, with orders to induct Atticus into one of the infantry cohorts, marched his men away towards their camp on the far side of Gortyna. Macro and Cato dismounted and led their horses along the main street as Julia's cart followed behind. Inside the walls, makeshift tents and crude shelters filled the ruined quarters of the city. They passed several gangs of slaves at work clearing rubble and making repairs to temples and business premises. Cato noticed that the slaves were securely chained to each other and were closely watched by overseers armed with heavy clubs. The poorest dwellings of Gortyna had been left to their owners, who picked over them, still gleaning for valuables and whatever food remained that had not gone off in the hot days following the earthquake. Armed men stood outside the larger houses and storerooms surrounding the city's forum.

'Seems that Glabius is looking after his own,' Macro com men ted quietly.

'For now,' Cato replied. 'But I don't imagine Sempronius will put up with this for long.'

'Why not? The rich have always been good at looking after each other.'

'Why not?' Julia interrupted. 'Because my father is no fool, Centurion Macro. He knows that if a wedge is driven between the local people, then it can only harm efforts to rebuild the province, and help the cause of the rebel slaves. That's why not.'

Macro scratched the stubble on his chin. 'If you say so.'

'Trust me,' she continued.' He will do the right thing. He always has.'

Cato could believe it. The senator had a strong moral streak and a sense of duty to Rome that overrode any self-interest. Which was why he had never been granted any rank higher than quaestor. If he had been prepared to make and take bribes, then he would have been appointed a provincial governor years before.

They continued through the forum, where a handful of stalls had been set up by traders desperate to earn hard currency to buy food for their families. Even though it was late in the day, long past the usual time they closed up for the night, the traders were still waiting patiently for custom, though the area was almost deserted. A short distance from the forum stood the entrance to the governor's palace.

The two Roman officers and the cart were waved through, and as they entered the courtyard Cato noted that the palace was guarded by auxiliaries. There was no sign of the town guards and the private bodyguards, who had remained loyal to Glabius.

Macro called over one of the governor's household slaves. 'You, where's Senator Sempronius? "

'Over there, master.' The slave bowed his head as he pointed towards the stable courtyard.

'Take the horses,' Macro ordered, handing the reins to the slave.