Centurion

'Shit,' he grumbled. 'How fucking lovely.'

He leaned towards the body, cut a strip off the man's tunic and did his best to clean off the filth as he continued to keep watch for any sign of Balthus and his men.This was getting beyond a joke, he thought bitterly. If Balthus didn't make his move now it would be too late to arrive before the gate under the cover of darkness. A voice called out from the camp. Macro kept still, until the man called out again. This was not good, he realised. If there was no reply from the rocks the rebels were bound to send someone over to look. Macro hurriedly untied his helmet and lowered it to the ground. Then he rose up cautiously, looking over the rock towards the camp. When the rebel called out a third time, the anxiety clear in his tone, Macro stood up a little further and waved his hand.To his relief the men waiting for their companion to return laughed and settled back down to their conversation.

Barely had Macro resumed his position behind the rock when there was a sudden thrumming of hooves and dark shapes rushed out of the night towards the rebel patrol's camp. The dull whack of arrows striking home sounded above the thud of hooves, and the snorts and whi

'Sir?' Centurion Horatius called out as he led his men through the rocks towards Macro. 'Sir, are you there?'

'Over here!' Macro raised his arm and the centurion and his legionaries came jogging towards him. 'Form two lines here.We're not taking part in this.We're just here to prevent any rebels ru

'Yes, sir.' Horatius sniffed, then grimaced before he saluted and strode off to pass on the orders to his century. Macro turned to watch the attack on the rebels. It was all but over. The riders were no longer charging across the campsite, but picking their way over the bodies, pausing to finish off the wounded and any who were cowering on the ground trying to surrender. There could be no prisoners taken tonight. They would only hold the column up and provide the added inconvenience of having to be guarded, not to mention the danger that they might give the column away as it approached the city and lay in wait for the chance to assault the eastern gate.

'Right, it's all over,' Macro a

A rider approached from the sparse spread of palm trees and Macro guessed it was Balthus.

'The way is clear, Centurion. None of the rebels escaped my men. They're all dead.'

'Good job,' Macro conceded. 'I suggest we continue the advance immediately, Prince.'

It was the first time that Macro had shown any sign of deference to Balthus and the latter paused a moment to take in the implied praise and respect. He nodded to Macro. 'I agree. Now that we have reached the plain, my men will spread out and screen our approach to the gate. There shouldn't be any more delays.'

'That's good,' said Macro. 'We can't stop for anything until we are in position to wait for Cato's signal.'

'Very well, Centurion. I shall let my men know.' He paused. 'By the way, where is that stink coming from?'

'Stink?' Macro responded testily. 'What stink?'

Balthus wheeled his mount round and trotted back towards his men. Macro stared at them a moment, impressed by the ruthless speed with which they had struck and wiped out the patrol.With a few thousand such men in the service of Rome there was no telling what might be achieved on the eastern frontier of the Empire.Their skill with bow and sword while mounted was matchless. Only the Parthians were better at this highly mobile form of warfare, and even then, Macro decided, the men of Palmyra must surely give a good account of themselves when they fought Parthian troops. As the uneven footsteps of the rest of his men reached Macro's ears he shrugged off his speculative frame of mind with a slight smile. He was thinking a good deal too much since he had met Cato. Especially when there was soldiering to be done.

'Column!' he called out as loudly as he dared. 'Advance!'

The men of the two cohorts emerged from the rocks like a black snake.They marched quickly past the site of the butchered patrol and followed in the wake of Balthus and his men as they headed directly for the east gate of Palmyra.They met no more rebels, and startled only a young shepherd boy, who immediately took off into the night with his small flock of sheep, which bleated irritably as they fled.

By the time they drew close to the city, Macro and his men were exhausted. Marching at night was always more tiring than during daylight, with the added burden of the strain on eyes and ears as they watched for any sign of the enemy, or an ambush. Balthus halted his riders and dispersed them to the flanks as Macro came up with his infantry. The men were quietly ordered to lie down and remain still and silent until the order to attack was given. Macro and Balthus crept a short distance ahead of their men and crouched down no more than a quarter of a mile from the gate. The walls of the city now loomed dark and tall and torches flickered along its length as the men on watch duty moved slowly between the towers watching for trouble.

The citadel was visible in the distance and Macro could just make out the tallest of its towers. If Cato had got through, that would be where the signal was shown, and Macro kept his eye fixed to the spot. The night gradually wore on and there was no sign of a signal. Balthus stirred and turned towards Macro.

'Perhaps your comrade, and my slave, failed to get through.'

'Give the lad a chance,' Macro responded. 'Cato can do it. He always does.'

Balthus stared at him a moment before he continued, 'You think highly of that young officer.'

'Yes. Yes, I do. He's a rare one, is Cato. He won't let us down.'

'I hope not, Centurion. It all depends on him now.'

'I know,' Macro replied softly, and they both gazed towards the city walls as they waited, and wondered what had become of Carpex and Cato.

08 Centurion

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

'Roman?' asked the soldier in Greek as he lowered his sword. 'What in Hades is a Roman doing popping up out of our sewer?'

'Just get me out of here,' Cato snapped, hearing the laboured breathing and scraping in the tu

The Palmyran soldier paused a moment, as his comrades came hurrying over. Then the soldier sheathed his sword, grasped Cato's arm and hauled him up through the grating and into the barrack room, still watching him suspiciously. He gestured to Carpex lying stu

'Explain later,' Cato gasped and pointed back into the tu

'A likely story,' someone snorted derisively. 'They're bloody spies, the pair of them. Silence his tongue,Archelaus.'

The man who had felled Carpex and hauled Cato out of the sewer reached for his sword, and then paused, staring into the hole. Cato glanced down and saw the glow of a torch, and then the tip of a spear came into view.The Greek called Archelaus snatched out his sword and took a step back as he called out to his comrades, 'He's right! There's someone in there. Arm yourselves!'

At once the barrack room was a mass of rushing figures as those who had not yet taken up their weapons ran back to their bunks to get them. The spear tip rose through the hole, a hand gripped the rim, and a moment later a helmeted head appeared above the floor. Archelaus leaped forward and cut down savagely with his falcata.There was a dull ring and a crunch as the blade cut through the helmet and the skull beneath, lodging just above the rebel's brow. His eyes were wide and startled for an instant before a sheet of blood obscured his face. Archelaus pressed a foot on the man's shoulder and yanked his blade free, and the body and spear dropped out of sight. There was a loud shout of rage from the tu