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

'That test comes tonight,' said Ajax. He turned and stared towards the Nile. The distant outline of a small fort and signal tower was visible on a mound a little over two miles away. There had been no sign that the garrison had spotted Ajax and his column as they had approached from the west, out of the desert. On the far bank, a short distance downriver, the Roman army would still be ignorant of their presence, and even when the alarm was sounded, it would be some hours before they could land a strong force on this side of the Nile. Ajax smiled. His spy inside the Roman camp had already proved his worth. Ajax had details of the strength of the Roman army and, even better, information about its senior officers. It was good to know that the two Roman officers he hated with all his heart were close at hand. He had only made one demand of his Nubian ally, that if Macro and Cato were taken alive, they would be delivered into his hands. Ajax resolved to have them crucified – just as they had crucified his father. The prospect filled his heart with satisfaction. He indulged the feeling for a moment before pushing the thought from his mind. Thoughts of revenge must give way to the need for swift action, Ajax reminded himself.

'Karim, I will leave you with three hundred men. I want you to complete the fortification of the temple, and post some patrols out towards the river.' He pointed to a small village that was within long arrow shot of the temple. 'Destroy that, once you have searched it for any food.'

The Parthian nodded.

'You have your orders. I should be back with the other men some time after the third or fourth hour of the night. Be sure that your sentries and the patrols know that. I would not be killed by an arrow shot by my own men.'

'That would be regrettable,' Karim replied, deadpan.

Ajax laughed and slapped him on the arm. 'Until later, my friend.'

Night had fallen and the warm air was filled with the shrill cry of cicadas, rising and falling as the whim took them. The last of the evening breeze stirred the leaves of the palm trees, making a constant rustle that served to disguise the sound of footsteps as Ajax and his men cautiously approached the fort. The walls rose above them, black against the velvet indigo of the starry night. He had decided to lead the attack with the men of his bodyguard. They would enter the fort and then open the gates for the rest of the assault force, hidden amid small fields of wheat and irrigation ditches that stretched out around the mound. The inhabitants of the houses closest to the fort had already been silenced so that none lived to raise the alarm.

Ajax felt the familiar swift flow of blood in his veins as he braced himself for action. He quietly drew his sword and turned to his men to whisper, 'Let's go.'

He rose into a crouch and began to make his way up the gentle slope towards the fort. Near the crest he could see the small outcrop of rock that supported a section of the wall. Here the wall was no more than ten feet high, just as Ajax had been promised by his spy. Staying low, he and his men moved closer. Then Ajax saw a movement on the wall as a sentry, with a faint sheen of starlight on the curve of his helmet and the blade of his spear, paced slowly by on his round. The gladiator went to ground, waving his men down. Staring up intently, he waited until the sentry had disappeared beyond the corner of the fort, and then he continued forward. When he reached the wall, Ajax waited for his men to catch up and then crept along until he came to the edge of the rocks. Feeling his way carefully, he climbed over them until he reached the point where a large flat boulder stood below the wall. One by one the rest of his men climbed up and spread out on either side. When they were all present, Ajax indicated to the tallest and broadest of his men, a Celt named Ortorix who had once fought as a heavily armoured Mirmillion in the arenas of the eastern Empire. Ortorix stood with his back to the wall and his knees bent, and then cupped his hands together. Ajax placed his boot in the Celt's hands, stretched his arms up the wall and whispered, 'Ready.'

With a light grunt, Ortorix heaved him up and as Ajax's boot came level with his shoulder, he gritted his teeth to edge him up still further. Keeping his weight as close to the rough surface of the mud-brick wall, Ajax groped towards the parapet. Then, as his fingers found it and curled over the edge, he let Ortorix raise him a bit further before locking an arm over the wall. He felt some of it crumble away and prayed that it would hold long enough for him to get a decent purchase on it. Then he swung his leg up, scrambling over the rim and rolled on to the walkway.

At once he rose to a crouch and looked around the interior of the fort. It was constructed in a rough square. A signal tower stood opposite the gatehouse. There were several small accommodation blocks built against the walls. Like the houses of the peasants, they had simple roofs of palm fronds to provide shade while allowing the air to circulate. A cooking fire burned in one hut and the smell of roasting meat wafted on the night air as a handful of soldiers talked in the easy way that men do when danger is furthest from their minds. There were voices coming from the other blocks, and the deep regular drone of snoring close by. The sentry patrolling along the wall had just passed through the gatehouse and was moving away from Ajax. The outline of another sentry stood at the top of the tower gazing out towards the Nile.

Satisfied that he had not been detected, Ajax leaned over the wall and gestured to the men below. Ortorix heaved the first one up and Ajax caught his hands and pulled him over the wall.

'Get over to the gatehouse. Stay out of sight.'

The man nodded and hunched down as he made his way along the walkway. Ajax turned to help the other men up and he had ten over the parapet by the time the sentry approached the corner to turn on to the same length of wall.

'Wait,' Ajax whispered. 'Stay down until I come back.'

He glanced down below the parapet and saw that there was a pile of straw and a mule tethered to a post. Resting in the straw was a fat auxiliary soldier, hands folded together across his bulging tunic. The dark shape of a wine jar lay next to him. Glancing up, Ajax saw the soldier reach the corner. There was no time to look for another place of concealment and he eased himself over the side of the walkway and dropped down into the straw. It rustled briefly and the mule started with a low bray.

'Hrrrmmm…' The auxiliary stirred and smacked his lips. 'Whatsmatter?'

He began to struggle up on his elbow and Ajax drew his sword and threw himself on top of the man, clamping his left hand over the auxiliary's mouth. He rammed his sword into the man's stomach, point angled up under the ribs. There was a muffled cry and the man arched his back, nearly throwing Ajax off. As he worked the blade ferociously from side to side, Ajax smashed his forehead down on to the crown of the auxiliary. The man abruptly went limp and slumped back into the straw. Ajax thrust up towards the heart once more to make certain and then wrenched his blade free. He could hear the footsteps of the sentry approaching. Ajax hurriedly eased the body back into a reposed position and threw some straw over the bloodstain on the tunic. Then he buried himself beside the man and lay still. The sentry came closer and then the sound of his steady pace stopped.

'What, Minimus, no longer sleeping?'

Ajax, heart beating wildly against his chest, drew a breath and grumbled, before making a guttural snore as near to the sound of the fat man as possible. The sentry laughed and continued on his way and Ajax carried on snoring until he could no longer hear the footsteps. Then, easing himself up from the straw, he climbed back on to the wall and resumed hauling his men over the rampart. Ortorix came last, heaved up by Ajax and two more of his men, gritting their teeth as they tried not to groan with the effort. With the Celt and the others, Ajax hurried along the walkway towards the gatehouse. The sentry had not emerged from his last circuit and they discovered his body slumped to one side as soon as they entered the low tower.