The Eagles Prophecy

'Well, there aren't any more biremes,' Vitellius snapped.'I can't just magic them out of thin air, can I?'

'There's the six you left at Rave

Cato stood up, cleared his throat and added, 'There's another thousand marines we could use as well, sir.'

'No!' Vitellius slapped his hand against his thigh. 'I will not leave Rave

'Rome may well do that already, sir,' Cato spoke quietly, 'once they get word of what happened today. If we're to continue operations against the pirates, we'll need every ship, every man we can draw on.'

Vitellius stepped towards him. 'And if they do attack Rave

'We have our orders, sir.' Cato laid heavy stress on the first word. 'The operation must take priority.'

'And Rave

'Rave

'I see. Is that your advice? Willing to put that down in writing?'

Cato clenched his teeth to prevent himself letting slip any acid words of contempt for his superior. Then he swallowed and replied, 'That's my advice, sir. Given our orders. But the decision is yours. Goes with the rank.'

'I see.' Vitellius dropped his gaze and stood silently in thought. The other officers were also silent, as they waited for his decision.

The prefect knew he was in a wretched position. He had lost a quarter of his force, as well as a good quantity of his equipment. What had begun as an overwhelming demonstration of force directed at crushing the growing pirate threat, had turned into a near disaster that threatened to destabilise the entire region. If he called off the operation then it would be seen as an unambiguous defeat, and the Emperor was not renowned for his toleration of defeated commanders. Vitellius feared that his career, maybe even his life, was in danger. He frowned. His career was all that gave meaning to his life. Without the promise of power and wealth he might as well be dead. So there was no possibility of calling off the operation. That much was certain. The campaign must continue.

The question was, did he have enough men and material to ensure success? He had been defeated, but if the pirates were found and destroyed, and the scrolls recovered, then the initial setback could be quietly glossed over. Indeed, if Vitellius could pin the blame for the defeat on some traitor then he might escape censure for the defeat altogether. As long as he was ultimately victorious. But did he have the forces to do it? He was not sure. Certainly Albinus did not think so, and the expressions on the faces of the other trierarchs as they had listened to their comrade indicated that they too felt that more biremes were required. They must know their business, Vitellius reflected. With the remainder of the fleet and the marines he had left in Rave

Then he recalled what Cato had said, the firm reminder that maybe there were even greater issues at stake: the scrolls that Narcissus had ordered them to retrieve, at any cost.

At any cost…

Damn the man for not putting those orders in writing. Then at least Vitellius could have claimed that the terrible risks he ran in deploying all his men and ships against the pirates were risks demanded by the terms of his orders. But Narcissus had been too clever for that, as usual. There would be no evidence to lay against him should Vitellius try to bring such a charge. Just as there would be no acceptable excuse for failing to recover the scrolls.

As he thought through his options one clear course of action emerged as the most effective strategy for the prefect to pursue, and he fixed on it with a growing sense of despair, reluctant to make the final commitment by giving the necessary orders. He looked up at his officers and his heart sank as he saw them watching him, waiting for him to speak, to set out his plan of action. Once he began there must be no turning back. He cleared his throat, and the officers stared at him intently.

'We must carry on with the operation. If we fail to take the fight to the pirates now, then who knows how powerful they may become. They could strangle our trade, if they wished. We ca

He glanced round, and his eyes fell on Cato, warming his thin frame close by the fire. It might be wise to keep that one as distanced from the real project of this operation as possible, the prefect considered. Vitellius needed to claim all the credit available for retrieving the scrolls. Besides, there might be other opportunities to exploit in this situation, and he didn't want another agent of Narcissus looking over his shoulder. There was Centurion Macro as well, of course, but Vitellius did not consider the older officer as much of a threat. Macro was too guileless for his own good. It might be as well to keep the two separated. Cato would be the one to return to Rave

'Centurion Cato!'

Cato stiffened his back. 'Yes, sir.'

'At first light, you and Albinus will take the Spartan back to Rave

'Yes, sir.'

'Gentlemen! That is all. Centurion Macro is taking the first watch. The rest of you can turn in until your watch is called. Dismissed!'

As the officers rose stiffly around the fire and trudged off towards the campfires of their units, Cato remained behind. He nodded towards Macro and the latter reluctantly joined his friend as they approached the prefect.

'What do you want?' Vitellius snapped. 'Make it quick. I'm tired.'

Macro nodded. 'I expect every man in the fleet is tired, sir.'

Vitellius ignored him, focusing on Cato alone. 'What do you want?'

'Why are you sending me back for reinforcements? Surely I'd be more use to you here, sir? Given our orders from Narcissus.'

'I have to write a dispatch to the Imperial Secretary,' Vitellius explained flatly. 'I have to report on what's happened. Narcissus will want to know the situation. I need you to make sure it reaches Rave

'Why me?'

'You I can trust. Those others,' Vitellius gestured towards the officers dispersing into the night, 'might not be so loyal to the Emperor. I have to be sure that the message gets through to Narcissus. That's why it has to be you. As for Macro here, well, I need all my best officers ready for anything that bastard Telemachus decides to throw at us.'

Cato stared at the prefect with cold, bitter eyes. Then he saluted.

'May I go now, sir?'

'Of course,' Vitellius did not return the salute, but nodded in the direction of the tent lines of Cato's century.'You're not needed at the moment. Get some sleep. I'll have the report ready for you before first light, when the Spartan sets sail.' He turned to Macro. 'You'd better join your men on watch.'

As the two centurions picked their way through the camp, Cato glanced over his shoulder to make sure they were out of earshot.

'While I'm gone, watch yourself.'

Macro frowned. 'What do you mean?'

'I'm not sure. I don't trust him.'