The Eagle In the Sand

'Where's Miriam? I can't see her.'

Symeon looked round anxiously, then pointed up the street to where a woman sat slumped against the side of a building, in the shade. 'I think that's her. Come on.'

They ran over to the woman, who was sitting cross-legged and nursing her head in both hands as she wept.

Symeon crouched down beside her. 'Miriam?'

She wiped her eyes and looked up, revealing a cut and bruised cheek. She seemed dazed and confused for an instant before some clarity of thought returned to her. She swallowed and cleared her throat. 'What have we done to deserve this?'

'What happened?' Symeon asked gently. He took her hand and stroked it. 'Miriam, what happened?'

She looked up at him, lips quivering. 'Ba

'Yusef?' Cato frowned. 'Why would he take Yusef? It doesn't make sense. If he's trying to escape us why burden himself with a prisoner?'

'Not a prisoner,' Miriam mumbled. 'A hostage. He recognised you, Symeon, when you attacked him this morning. He knows you are coming after him, and he knows you would not allow Yusef to come to any harm. So he took him with them.'

'All right,' said Macro. 'I can understand the boy, but this casket? What's that about?'

Miriam replied quietly. 'Ba

'Treasure?'

Miriam shrugged. 'A kind of treasure. Now it's in the hands of Ba

'What's in the casket?' Macro asked Symeon.

'I don't know,' Symeon replied.'Only Miriam knows.'

Macro turned back to her. 'Well?'

She shook her head and Macro sighed impatiently.'So don't tell me… Anyway, Ba

'Yes.' Miriam looked up and cuffed her tears away.'He said to tell Symeon to find him in Petra.'

'Petra?' Cato was confused. 'Why Petra? And why tell us where he is going?'

'He wants to speak to Symeon. Somewhere he can talk in safety.'

'Makes some sense,' Symeon conceded.'Petra's neutral even if these friends of mine are not. They've been an enemy of Judaea in the past, but now they're concerned that Rome has her eye on Nabataea. Ba

'How long ago did they leave?' Macro interrupted. 'Miriam?'

'Just before noon.'

'It's what, two days' ride to Petra?'

Symeon nodded. 'Two days, or quicker if you force the pace.'

'Could we catch up with him?'

Symeon shrugged. 'We could try.'

'Then let's get moving – we've wasted enough time here.' Macro saw the hurt in Symeon's expression as he comforted Miriam and was aware of Cato's disapproving frown. He turned to Miriam and tried to sound reasonable and reassuring. 'Listen, Miriam, the sooner we set off after them, the better chance we have of getting your grandson back for you, and that casket.'

Miriam suddenly grabbed his hand and looked into Macro's eyes with an intense expression. 'Swear to me that you will bring Yusef back to me! Swear it!'

'What?' Macro looked angry and tried to pull his hand back, but the woman gripped him with surprising strength. 'Look, I can't swear it. But I'll do my best.'

'Swear it!' she insisted. 'As Yahweh is your witness.'

'I don't know about any Yahweh,' Macro replied uneasily. 'But if you want me to swear by Jupiter and Fortuna, I will, if it helps you.'

'By your gods then,' she assented. 'Swear to return Yusef to me.'

'I swear I will do my best,' Macro compromised, then turned to Cato and Symeon. 'Now let's get going.'

He strode back towards the horses. Symeon squeezed Miriam's shoulder gently one last time, then set off after Macro, calling out to his men to leave the fires and come with him. Cato hesitated a moment. He was sick of the suffering that he had witnessed in this province. Sick of his part in its perpetuation. The image of the boy he had slammed his shield down on to flashed through Cato's mind. A boy the same age as Yusef. He felt a great sadness settle on him like a heavy burden. Something had to be done about the situation. Cato needed to bring some good out of it all. Just to feel clean again. 'Miriam?'

She looked up.

'We will find him, and bring him back,' said Cato. 'I promise I won't rest until we do.'

07 The Eagle In the Sand

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

'So where's this city of yours?' Macro asked as they rode down the worn track between the steep-sided hills.

Symeon gestured to his right. 'In there.'

Macro and Cato turned towards the sheer rock faces towering up on the other side of the valley. There seemed to be no break in the cliffs, and rising up in the distance beyond were the rocky peaks and crags of yet higher hills.

'Rocks, rocks and more rocks,' Macro grumbled. 'Petra – the name says it all.'

Cato nodded wearily. He was at the end of his endurance.There had been no rest in the days of Ba

They rode until dusk made further progress dangerous and then camped in the open, rising at the first hint of light to continue the chase. So it was that two days after leaving Heshaba they approached Petra in the blistering heat of noon.As they descended into the valley that led to the entrance of the city they passed a caravan heading north: hundreds of camels piled high with goods bound for the luxury-loving Hellenic cities of the Decapolis. Symeon, Murad and the others exchanged greetings with the men in charge of the caravan and stopped a moment for a brief conversation before they made their farewells and the caravan continued climbing the track at a slow steady pace.

Symeon reined his horse in alongside Macro and Cato. 'I asked them if there had been any new arrivals in Petra earlier today, or yesterday.'

'And?' Macro responded.

'It seemed that Ba