Centurion

Cato pointed to a cauldron suspended over an iron stove in the side of the room used as the soldier's mess. Wisps of steam curled up from the lip of the cauldron.

'Use that! Get the cauldron over here!'

'But that's our stew,' one of the soldiers protested. 'It's almost ready to eat.'

Cato scrambled up to his feet, and rose to his full height as he snapped out the order. 'You and you, get it over here, now!'

The two men turned to Archelaus with a questioning look and he waved his dripping blade at them. 'Do it!'

The two men hurried over to the cauldron and picking up rags they grasped the heavy iron handles and lifted it off the stove, grunting with the effort as they struggled towards the drain with their burden. As one of the Greek mercenaries leaned over the hole the head of a spear shot up at his face, and he threw himself back just in time to avoid a terrible wound. As soon as the men with the cauldron reached the edge they set it down and grasped the rim with their rags, straining as they tipped the cauldron. The steaming liquid and some lumps of meat sloshed over, most of it going straight down into the sewer in a thick brown gush. At once there were several agonised screams, and the glow from the torch blinked out. A puff of steam came up through the hole with the cries of pain and rage.Then they heard the rebels scrambling down the tu

Archelaus let out a loud laugh. 'That's cooked 'em nicely! Now get the grille back in place, and you, Croton, keep a watch on it.' The Greek glanced at Carpex, who had propped himself up on an elbow and was shaking his head. 'Sorry about that, friend, but if you will pop your head up out of a sewer una

Carpex looked up at him, winced and then let out a low groan. Archelaus saw the slave brand on his forehead and turned to Cato. 'This one yours, Roman?'

'No. He belongs to Prince Balthus. The prince told him to guide me into the citadel. We carry a message for the king. I have to speak to him at once.'

'Not so fast.'Archelaus held up a hand. 'First, tell me who you are, and what's going on here.'

Cato restrained the impulse to snap angrily at the man and demand to be taken to the king. He took a deep breath to calm his frustration. 'I'm the prefect of the Second Illyrian cohort. Part of a relief column sent by the governor of Syria. The rest of the force is outside the city waiting for a signal to assault the eastern gate and cut their way through to the citadel. Now, if that's enough for you, I must see your king.'

The Greek mercenary narrowed his eyes. 'That's quite a story. Under normal circumstances I wouldn't believe a word of it. But the unusual nature of your appearance seems to support your tale. Just as well we had come off watch, otherwise there would have been no one here to help you.' Archelaus turned to the hole. 'And now it seems that you have shown the rebels a way into the citadel. Well, that's sorted out easily enough. You!' He pointed to one of his men. 'Get some rubble into that tu

He made to help Carpex back on to his feet then sniffed distastefully. 'Better get rid of those robes first though, eh?'

Cato was all for seeing the king immediately, but realised that some modicum of formality had to be maintained if he was to create a favourable impression. Once they had cast aside their soiled outer clothes and cleaned as much of the sewer filth off their bodies as quickly as they could, they followed Archelaus from the barracks. The room they had entered from the sewers proved to be one of ten that opened on to a courtyard behind the royal quarters of the citadel. In a more peaceful era the barracks had once been stables and accommodated some of the finest horses in the eastern world. Now people slept and sat in clusters where the horses once exercised. The sound of coughing and muted snatches of conversation punctuated the quiet of the night.

'Who are these people?' Cato asked.

'Some are from the palace. But most of them are loyalists who fled to the citadel when the revolt broke out. We took as many as we could before the king ordered the gates closed. There was no room for any more.'

'There were others?'

'Hundreds.Trapped outside when the rebels closed in on the citadel.'

'What happened to them?'

'What do you think?'Archelaus replied harshly.'Want me to draw you a picture? Let's just say Prince Artaxes won't be remembered for his merciful nature.'

They walked in silence for a moment, picking a path through the refugees, before Cato spoke again.

'What's the situation here? The message we got in Antioch was that you were holding your own.'

'That's true enough,' Archelaus responded. 'The rebels aren't going to get through the walls any time soon. We've more than enough men here to keep them at bay. And we have enough food for a few days yet. The only problem is water. There are two cisterns under the royal quarters, there.' He pointed towards the colo

'How many men under arms do you have?' Cato asked.

'The royal guard numbered nearly five hundred when the revolt broke out. We lost over a hundred when we escaped from the palace, and fought our way across the city to the citadel. We've lost more in the days since then. Now?' He thought for a moment. 'There's nearly three hundred and fifty of us left. My syntagma suffered the heaviest casualties in the fight to reach the citadel.'

'Syntagma?'

'The royal guard is made up of two syntagmata. Each one has two hundred and forty men in it, or did before the revolt flared up. Each syntagma has four tetrarchies of sixty men. That's what I command.' He jabbed a thumb at his chest. 'I'm a tetrarch.'

'I see.' Cato nodded. 'Any other men on your strength, apart from the king's bodyguard?'

Archelaus shrugged dismissively.'A handful of nobles and their retinues. Personally, I think they're more danger to us than to the rebels. Then there's a half-century of auxiliaries who were guarding the Roman ambassador and his family and staff. So we have just over four hundred effectives, and at least five hundred civvies.'

Cato thought for a moment. If all went well this night the garrison was about to be swelled by over a thousand Roman soldiers and Prince Balthus' companions, not to mention all their horses. He turned to Archelaus.'How long will the water last?'

'Another twenty days or so.At the rate we're rationing it. Oh…' He paused mid-stride and looked at Cato. 'That's before your relief column joins us.'

'On current form that water is going to run out in less than ten days.'

'Great,' Archelaus muttered as he resumed his course towards the royal quarters. 'I can imagine how delighted the king is going to be when he works that one out.'

As they approached the royal quarters the guards at the entrance rose from the benches either side of the bronze doors and stood to, spears in hand. One of them stepped forward into Archelaus' path and saluted. He glanced over at Cato and Carpex before turning back to the tetrarch.

'Your business, sir?'

'These two just entered the citadel.They claim they have a message for the king.'

'The king's asleep, sir.'

'I can imagine.'Archelaus smiled thinly.'It's the middle of the night. But these men must see him urgently.'