The Eagle In the Sand - Scarrow Simon (читать книги без .txt) 📗

He closed the door behind him and slipped the bolt back into place as Scrofa started screaming abuse after him. Macro turned to the guards. 'If he keeps that up for long, you have my permission to go in there and belt him.'

'Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.'

'Cato, let's go.'

As they climbed the steps back up to the ground floor of the headquarters building Cato spoke. 'What now? Longinus has been alerted that Narcissus is on to him. He'll be on his guard, and even now I'd bet he's already covering his tracks. We won't have much evidence to offer against him. Only what little Scrofa can offer, that he was ordered to go in hard. The worst that Narcissus can accuse Longinus of will be wilful incompetence.'

'That's enough to justify removing him from office.'

'Maybe.'

'So what do we do now?'

'I'd suggest we concentrate our efforts on Bannus. If we can destroy him, we can restore peace to the area. If we do that, then we can scupper any attempt by Longinus to request reinforcements.'

Macro nodded. 'Bannus it is, then. We'll talk about it in the morning. I'm so bloody tired I can hardly think straight. You'd better get a good night's sleep too, Cato. Somehow I think there's going to be no chance of a decent rest for some time. Better make the most of it now.'

'Yes, sir.'

Macro smiled faintly. 'It's all right. You can drop the formalities when there's no one else around.'

Cato nodded over Macro's shoulder, and the latter turned and saw the dim shape of one of the standard bearers guarding the entrance to the headquarters shrine where the cohort's standards were kept. Macro cleared his throat and spoke formally. 'Very well, Centurion. I'm turning in. See you in the morning.'

'Yes, sir.' Cato saluted and Macro turned away and walked wearily out of the building, and headed back to his quarters. When he reached the prefect's house he slumped on his bed and closed his eyes for a moment. Then he was asleep. So deeply asleep that he did not notice Scrofa's manservant remove his boots, lift his legs on to the bed and cover him over with a thick blanket. As the manservant closed the door behind him, the first deep rumbling notes of Macro's snoring echoed round the room.

It was late in the morning when Macro woke up and he cursed himself for not having left orders to be roused at dawn. He was not going to let himself be tarred with the same brush as the previous prefect. Macro prided himself on living as hard as the men he commanded and so he emerged from his quarters in a dark mood and ignored the meal that the manservant had set out in the dining room. Cato was waiting for him in the prefect's office at headquarters, leaning over a map spread out across the desk as Macro strode in.

'Why the hell didn't somebody wake me?'

'You're the prefect. It's not our place to disturb you without orders, unless there's an emergency. Besides, you needed the rest.'

'I'll decide what I need, all right?'

'Yes, sir.'

'Right.' Macro glanced at the map. 'Already planning the next move against Bannus?'

'Just thinking, sir.'

'Oh? That sounds dangerous.' He smiled at Cato's hurt expression. 'When you start thinking, then I know we're in for trouble, Cato. Go on then.'

Cato refocused his mind and stared down at the map. He gestured towards the string of villages that lay between Bushir and the River Jordan. 'Given the size of the force we believe Bannus has at his back, he is going to need access to food and water. He doesn't have anything to fear from our patrols now.The only danger is that we might corner him with the whole cohort and bring him to battle. My guess is that he's come out of the hills and he's camped somewhere close to one of these villages.'

'How can you be sure?'

'I can't. Not until the mounted patrols return. I ordered them to scout the area. They should be back today. Then we'll find out if they've located Bannus. If they have, then you'll need to find some way of forcing him into battle, sir.'

'That won't be easy,' mused Macro. 'You know how these brigands fight. Hit and run. That's their style. So? Any bright ideas?'

Cato tilted his head to one side and considered. Before he could respond there was a clatter of boots outside the room and then a sharp knock on the door.

'Come!'

An orderly stepped through the door and saluted. 'Report from the duty centurion, sir.'

'Well?'

'There's a column of horsemen approaching the fort, sir.'

'That'll be one of your patrols then, Cato. Good.With a bit of luck they'll have some news of Bannus.'

The orderly interrupted. 'Begging your pardon, sir, but the horsemen are approaching from the north. The patrols went to the west.'

'From the north, eh?' Macro began to get a sinking feeling in his stomach. He turned to Cato. 'We'd better have a look.'

By the time they reached the fortified tower above the northern gate, the small column of horsemen was less than a mile from the fort and flashes of light glittered off polished armour and helmets. Cato shaded his eyes and squinted and made out the flicker of a scarlet standard above the head of the column. 'They're ours. Roman, at least.'

'Then what the hell are they doing returning from that direction?' Macro asked.

'I don't know.'

They watched in silence as the horsemen drew closer, and then at last the identity of the party became clear and Cato felt a chill in his guts as they reined in and walked their horses the short distance to the gates. At the head of the column rode a man in a burnished breastplate. He wore a red cloak and an ornate silvered helmet with a red plume.

'It's the Governor,' Macro muttered.'Bloody Longinus in the flesh.'

'Yes, and look who's riding beside him.'

Macro's eyes flickered to an officer on a horse a short distance to one side and slightly behind the Governor and he took a sharp intake of breath. 'It's that bastard Postumus.'

07 The Eagle In the Sand

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Cassius Longinus was shrewd enough to wait until they had reached the privacy of the prefect's quarters before he turned on Macro. As the orderly closed the door, the Governor of the province of Syria crossed over to the desk and eased himself down into the chair. He looked up at Macro and Cato standing to one side of the room. Postumus had sidled across to the opposite side and perched on the window frame so that his shadow was thrown across the floor. Longinus regarded Macro for a moment before he spoke.

'Centurion Postumus has told me that you have unlawfully taken control of this cohort. And that you threw him and Prefect Scrofa into a cell. Is this true?'

'If that's what he told you then Postumus is a damned liar, sir.' Macro smiled. 'Of course, now I wish I had actually thrown him bodily into the cell. Then he might not have been able to sneak off at the first opportunity.'

A smile flickered across Longinus' face. 'That's not a very constructive attitude. If we're going to get to the bottom of this then you're going to need to be a bit more cooperative, Centurion Macro. I've been in the saddle for the last two days, and since I have a province to run, I'd like to sort out this situation and get back to my duties.'

'I'm sure you would, sir.'

'I hope I don't detect a note of insolence in your voice.'

'No, sir. It's just my way. I've been a common soldier for too long.'

Longinus stared at him closely.'Don't try to mock me. I will not tolerate it… I understand that you have a certain document. One that you claim entitles you to dismiss the prefect I appointed, and to assume his office instead.'

'That's right, sir.'

'In which case, I'd like to see it.'

'Very well, sir.' Macro indicated a small chest next to the desk. 'If I may?'