The Eagles Prophecy

'Well, perhaps you should read a little more, Centurion. Nothing like it for broadening the mind, and inspiring the imagination.'

Macro shrugged. 'If you say so, sir. But I don't think there's really enough time to knock up a wooden horse. Besides, there's the transportation problem. Something big enough to hide a decent-sized force in is going to be an absolute bugger to get on board a ship. Even one this size.'

Vespasian watched him in amusement as Macro explained his misgivings. When the centurion had finished Vespasian couldn't help smiling.

'What have I said, sir?' Macro looked offended. 'I just don't think it will work, sir. However good an idea it might seem,' he added quickly. 'Besides, that's the kind of low crafty trick that only the Greeks would use.'

'Sometimes, even the Greeks did the right thing, Centurion… But, no. You're quite right. It wouldn't work. We'll have to try something else.'

Macro nodded happily, glad that his commander had seen reason. This was the unfortunate side of the creative intelligence of men such as Vespasian and Cato, Macro reflected. Once in a while their imaginations rushed way ahead of their reasoning and needed to be reined in by a fatherly word of restraint, from more worldly heads.

Vespasian took a last look at the map and gave a faint nod, before he met Macro's gaze again, this time with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. 'Very well. Not a Trojan horse. A Trojan whale, then.'

Macro winced. What on earth was Vespasian thinking of now?

'Those two pirate vessels you and Centurion Cato captured a few nights back…'

'What about them, sir?'

'I think it's time we put them to good use.'

06 The Eagles Prophecy

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

Caius Caelius Secundus woke shortly after sunset and looked round anxiously before memory of the Roman centurion's rescue flooded back to him in a wave of images and emotions. Just above him was what remained of the roof of the shelter. He reached over and picked up a cloak that had been left for him by the bedding and wrapped it around his thin shoulders. With a grunt Secundus rose and, bending low, he moved over to the entrance of the shelter. He paused a moment before cautiously pushing the leather tent flap to one side and peering out. A short distance away a faint glow radiated up from the fire pit on to the face of Centurion Cato. They had spoken briefly after the ambush, when Cato had led him across the plateau to the shelter. Secundus had been exhausted from his long climb up the mountain, and emotionally overcome by his sudden release from captivity. The rage that had burned in his heart at the months of indignity and suffering had exploded in a moment of fury when he had crushed the pirate's head and afterwards he felt numb and spent as Cato had tried to make him comfortable and let him rest.

Now the young officer glanced up as he became aware that he was being watched, and smiled at Secundus.

'Feeling better?'

'Much.' Secundus emerged from the shelter and straightened up. A faint aroma of stewing meat wafted into his nostrils and immediately he was reminded of how hungry he was; how hungry he had been throughout his captivity. Secundus walked stiffly over to the fireplace and sat down opposite his rescuer. Between them, hanging from a small tripod was a battered iron pot filled almost to the brim with a thick bubbling liquid. 'Smells good. What is it?'

'Barley and mule,' Cato replied.'Thought I might as well make the most of the one that got caught under the rock. The other one bolted.'

There was a moment's silence in which Secundus looked round at the night sky and saw that it was quite clear. Away to the horizon there was a broad band of watery orange that quickly faded to a dark blue and then an inky black by the time it reached the opposite horizon. Some of the brightest stars were already out, scattered across the heavens like distant specks of silver. High up on the mountain top the air was cold, and Secundus pulled the cloak tighter about him and shuffled closer to the edge of the fire pit. He looked across at the centurion.

'I haven't thanked you yet, young man.'

Cato winced momentarily at the reference to his age before he tilted his head in acknowledgement. 'You're welcome.'

There was another pause, before Secundus asked, 'So what were you doing up here? It's a strange place to find a centurion, all on his own.'

Cato sensed the suspicion in the other man's tone and smiled to himself. He would feel the same way about such a fortuitous rescue by another Roman. 'We're on a reco

'We?'

'My friend and I. Another centurion serving with the Rave

'You seem very sure of victory.'

Cato gri

'Why did you remain here?'

'Had to,' Cato replied simply. 'Once we stumbled on the lookout station we had to put it out of operation and make sure it couldn't warn Telemachus of the fleet's approach. Once our ships arrive we'll go down the mountain and join them.'

'I see.'

Cato looked at him. 'Now, if you don't mind, there's some questions I'd like to ask you.'

'I'd be delighted,' Secundus replied, and gestured towards the steaming pot. 'Over a meal.'

'Of course. I'm sorry.' Cato picked up his mess tin and leaned over the fire pit to ladle some stew into the tin. He handed it across to Secundus and sat down as the other man raised the tin to his lips.

'Careful!' Cato warned him. 'It's bloody hot. Give it a moment to cool down. You can use this.' He tossed the man his spoon.

'Thanks.' Secundus cradled the mess tin in the folds of his cloak. 'Ask away.'

'Firstly, you're Narcissus' agent, aren't you?'

Secundus looked up sharply. 'What makes you say that?'

'Narcissus briefed us about what had happened to you. That's the reason why Macro and I were given this assignment in the first place. We were sent out with Prefect Vitellius to crush the pirates and rescue you.'

'I thought you said Vespasian was the prefect.'

'He is now. Vitellius made an utter balls-up of the opening stages of the campaign and Narcissus replaced him as soon as he got word.' He cleared his throat. 'In addition to defeating the pirates we were also tasked with retrieving the scrolls.'

Secundus tensed up for an instant, and then he raised a spoon of stew to his lips and blew across the surface to cool it down. He did not look up when he stopped blowing. 'Scrolls? What scrolls would they be?'

'The ones you were carrying back to Rome.'

'I was carrying quite a few messages back to Rome at the time of my capture.'

'Maybe.' Cato shrugged.'But I think you'd remember the scrolls I'm talking about. The Sybilline scrolls.'

Secundus stared at him. 'You know about them? Who else knows?'

'Macro, Vitellius, and now Vespasian, of course. Officially, that's the list of the people in the know.' Cato told the lie comfortably enough. 'We've been told to get the scrolls back at any cost. And you, of course.'

Secundus couldn't help smiling. 'But, according to Narcissus, the scrolls are the priority. My rescue was a supplementary goal. Am I right?'

'You know Narcissus.'

'Well enough… It seems that you've got your priorities the wrong way round, Centurion Cato. You've freed me, but the scrolls are still down there with Telemachus. I understand he wants to ransom them.'

'If only it was that simple. It's not so much a ransom as an auction.'