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

'Take good care of my men.' Petronius smiled faintly at Cato. 'I want 'em back in good condition once you have put down the slave rebellion. The gods know I'm taking a big risk in stripping so many men from the garrison of Egypt to help Sempronius out. Make sure he understands that.'

'I will be sure to pass the message on to the senator, sir.'

'Good, and tell my old friend that if he should ever need my help again in the future, then please hesitate to call on me.'

Cato smiled at the quip, but Fulvius just frowned for a moment and then shrugged before he saluted his commander. 'I'll look after the lads, sir. Shouldn't think a mob of renegade slaves will give me much trouble. Even so, I'll not take any unnecessary risks.'

'Good.'

Cato followed Fulvius across the gangway and on to the deck of the flagship, an ageing quadreme named the Triton. As soon as they were aboard, the marines hauled the gangway in and the men at the oars fended the vessel away from the dock. As soon as a sufficient gap had opened up, the navarch commanding the fleet gave the order for the ship to get under way, and the oars were unshipped and the blades lowered into the sea. The officer in charge of the rowers set an easy pace and the Triton glided across the still waters of the royal harbour and headed out to sea. The rest of the squadron took up station astern, as the troopships set sail and followed behind the warships. It was a fine spectacle, Cato reflected as he saw that hundreds of the local people had come out on to the Heptastadion to watch the fleet depart. The formation headed out past the lighthouse, and the Tritons bows lifted as they emerged into the swell of the open sea. The sudden motion caused Cato to grasp the side rail, and the image of the stricken ship he had seen during the storm jumped unbidden into his mind. The navarch chuckled as he glanced at him.

'Not much of a sailor, then?'

'Not much,' Cato admitted. 'I've had more than my share of sea travel recently'

'Well, not to worry. The storm has blown itself out nicely' The navarch scanned the horizon and sniffed the air. 'We're in for a fine spell, and will make Crete within three days at the most.'

'You can smell the weather to come?' Cato asked in surprise.

'No. But it helps calm my passengers if they think I can.' The navarch winked.

Cato made his way to the stern and stared back at Alexandria. By noon the city and the coastline had disappeared over the horizon, but the lighthouse was still clearly visible, and in the gentle breeze the smoke from its signal fire rose at an angle into the heavens.

In the fine weather the fleet made steady progress across the sea and sighted the coast of Crete on the evening of the third day. After carefully examining the coastline, the navarch was content that he knew where they had made landfall and gave the order to turn to the west and follow the coast towards Matala.

'We should reach the port tomorrow,' he announced to Cato and Fulvius as they shared a meal in his tiny cabin that night. He nodded at Cato. 'You say the port was hit hard by that wave. How bad was the damage, exactly?'

Cato finished chewing a hunk of bread and swallowed. 'There's not much still standing,' he recalled.' The warehouses were flattened and much of the quayside was swept away. There's plenty of wrecked shipping along the shore and in the bay, but the beaches a little further out are clear enough. We could land our forces there.'

'Very well,' Fulvius agreed. 'As far as you're aware, we shouldn't be facing any opposition when we land.'

'No. Not unless something's happened to Matala.'

'Is that likely?'

Cato shook his head. 'I doubt it. If the rebels have paid a visit, the garrison had orders to take the people up into the acropolis. It's a fine defensive position. Without siege weapons the rebels would have had little chance of taking the place. No, we shouldn't have any problems putting ashore at Matala.'

'Glad to hear it,' said Fulvius. 'And once the column's ashore, we'll put paid to this gladiator of yours in double-quick time. You see if we don't!'

The sun was high in the sky as the Triton led the fleet into the bay.

The navarch was taking no risks and had two men in the bows watching the water ahead of the warship for any obstacles caused by the wave or the earthquake. The marines and the additional legionaries from the Twenty-Second packed the sides of the ship and stared in curiosity and shock at the ruined port. For the first time since they had set off from Alexandria, Cato noticed that Fulvius looked a little shaken.

'Never seen anything like it,' the veteran muttered. 'It's like the port has been pulverised.' He turned to Cato. 'Seems you weren't exaggerating what you said about that wave.'

'No. And that's only the beginning.' Cato pointed inland. 'What's left of the city is up there, and once you see that, you'll have some idea of what's happened to the who le island.'

Fulvius shook his head slowly as he continued to survey the devastation.

As the warship eased its way further into the bay, Cato called to the navarch and indicated the Horus, still beached some distance along the shore.' Head over there. The bottom's sandy and shelves gently'

The navarch nodded and ordered the steersman to alter course, and the Triton swung gracefully round, oars dipping into the clear water in unison. Fulvius was still staring towards the ruins.

'Odd,' he said quietly. 'There's no sign of life at all. You'd think some one would have spotted us and called attention to the garrison commander. Or the other townspeople at least.'

Cato looked again at the port. 'You're right. I can't see a soul.'

'Best proceed cautiously when we get ashore then,' Fulvius decided. 'Just in case.'

They were interrupted by a bellowed command from the navarch as he ordered all the idle hands, marines and legionaries to move aft of the mast. As the men shuffled towards the stern, the ram slowly rose clear of the water, and after a few more strokes of the oars the navarch cupped his hands to his mouth. 'Ship the oars! Prepare to beach!'

The blades rose clear of the water and were run in as the warship continued forward. The deck shuddered slightly as the keel touched the sandy bottom, and carried on a little way before the friction killed the last of the ship's moment um.

'Marines forward! Lower the gangways!'

While the marines heaved the narrow ramps down from the gaps in the wooden side rails at the bow, the other warships began to beach on either side. Looking back towards the entrance of the bay, Cato saw the cargo ships cautiously approaching under minimal sail.

They had too great a draught to beach and would have to anchor a short distance out and wait for the smaller vessels to ferry the men, horses and equipment ashore.

Centurion Fulvius had put on his helmet and was fastening the straps. He nodded to Cato. 'Best get your kit on. I'll have my lads ready to recce the city the moment we get on dry land.'

Cato struggled into a chainmail vest, strapped on his sword and put on his helmet before joining Fulvius and the legionaries assembling by the gangways. In addition to their usual complement, each of the warships was carrying two centuries of legionaries and the men were jostling to get ashore as quickly as possible after having spent the past few days crowded on to the open decks. The marines had already disembarked and run up the sand to form a skirmish line.

When he was happy that his men were ready, Fulvius called out the order.' Right then, boys, get ashore. One man on each gangway at a time, unless you want to land in the drink.'

Some of the men laughed or smiled at the warning as the first of them carefully made their way down the narrow gangways and on to the sand. Fulvius looked towards the port again. 'Still nothing. It's looking a bit worrying, I'd say'