Centurion

Thermon bowed his head and turned to address the others. 'As Krathos has pointed out, our supplies will be exhausted. The garrison is already on half rations. The refugees inside the walls of the citadel are surviving, barely, on even less. Now we have more mouths to feed than ever. The question is, what can we do?'

There was a pause as the king's advisers considered the question.Then Balthus spoke. 'Clear the refugees out of the citadel. Send them back into the city.'

'We can't do that,' Thermon replied. 'It is more than likely that they would be slaughtered by the rebels.'

'My brother might spare them.' Balthus shrugged.'If not, then they die either way. At least we could save their rations for the soldiers defending the citadel, and protecting the king. Unless anyone has a better idea?' Balthus turned and looked round at his audience.

'Kill the horses.' Cato spoke out loudly.

Balthus turned towards him and cocked his head to one side. 'What?'

'Kill the horses,' Cato repeated. 'They are consuming water we could put to better use, and the meat would feed the garrison and the civilians for a while yet. Maybe not until the governor arrives. But at least it would buy us some time.'

The suggestion seemed reasonable enough to Cato, but he was suddenly aware that the Palmyran nobles were looking at him in horror. He leaned towards Sempronius. 'What have I said?'

'They tend to place rather a high value on horseflesh in this part of the world,' Sempronius explained. 'Some even seem to have more affection for their horses than for their wives.'

'Reminds me of my father,' Macro mused unhelpfully.

Cato was not dissuaded. He stood up and raised his hand to quell the angry muttering amongst the Palmyran nobles. 'If I may?'

The king's chamberlain nodded and rapped his staff on the ground to silence his countrymen. Cato waited until all was still before he continued, 'This is no time for misplaced priorities. Everything depends on the citadel's holding out for as long as possible.The horses could make the difference between survival and defeat. If we keep the horses, and they consume our supplies, then they will only hasten our defeat. They must be killed,' Cato insisted. 'After all, they are only animals.'

'Only animals?' Balthus shook his head.'To you Romans, perhaps. After all, your horses are miserable creatures. If you must kill any beasts, then let it be your own. You shall not touch mine.'

The other nobles muttered their support for Balthus, but Cato stood his ground. 'So you would rather feed your horses than your people? Is that it?' He shook his head. 'How long do you think the people will stand for it? When their children go hungry and they feel starvation gnawing at their guts, do you think for a moment that they will share your passion for fine horses? They will tear you to pieces. Or at least they would try to. And you would be forced to kill them all, for the sake of your horses. And when Prince Artaxes hears of your folly he will be sure that every man, woman and child between Syria and the Euphrates knows of it. He won't be seen as a rebel, but as a liberator.'

Cato paused to let his words sink in and glanced round the room, briefly meeting Macro's gaze as his friend winked at him and nodded his approval. Cato took a deep breath to still his rapidly beating heart and continued in a calmer tone.

'You must sacrifice the horses, or you will lose everything. But there's another reason why they must be killed. It will be a clear signal to everyone in the citadel that there will be no escape, no attempt to break out and ride to safety. We will fight on, together, until Cassius Longinus arrives, or we will die, together, defending the citadel.'

Cato eased himself back down on to his chair and crossed his arms. Macro nudged him and muttered, 'Nice job. Too nice, actually. You aren't thinking of chucking in soldiering and taking up law when we get back to Rome, I hope.'

'That was low, even for you, Macro,' Cato whispered.

Sempronius was surveying the response around the hall to Cato's brief address, and he nodded with satisfaction before turning to the young officer. 'I think you might have won them round, Prefect. A crude appeal to reason, and fear, and rather lacking in rhetorical flourishes. But it worked well enough.' He looked closely at Cato for a moment, appraising him. 'There's more to you than I thought. If we survive this, you'll go far.'

'I sincerely hope so,' Cato muttered. 'The further from here the better.'

The king beckoned to his chamberlain and they conferred quietly for a moment and then Vabathus leaned back in his chair, grim-faced, as Thermon spread his arms to attract the nobles' gaze.

'My lords! The king commands your attention! Quiet there.'

When the chamber had settled down once more, the king drew himself up and cleared his throat. 'It is my will that every horse in the citadel is to be slaughtered at once. There are to be no exceptions in this. All of you will surrender your horses to the commander of the royal bodyguard. Even you, Balthus.'

'Really?' Balthus smiled humourlessly. 'And what of the mounts in your stable,Your Majesty?'

'They will be the first to be killed.' The king gestured towards Cato. 'The Roman officer is right.We are all in this together. There is only one fate for every person in the citadel. And if Artaxes does get to hear of it then he will know that we are resolved to defeat him, or die in the attempt. That is my command. Now, the audience is over.'

Thermon's staff thudded down. 'All rise for the king!'

A handful of chairs scraped as the nobles and the Romans stood up and bowed their heads. King Vabathus rose and made his way across the chamber to a small doorway in one corner, and disappeared from sight. Thermon waited a moment longer, and then turned to the others and gave them permission to leave. The Palmyran nobles talked in hushed, bitter tones as they filed out of the hall, until only the three Romans and the supporters of Prince Amethus remained, standing behind the prince. Krathos glared at Cato.

'We could have negotiated with the rebels. We could have saved many lives.' He smiled thinly. 'We could even have spared the horses Prince Balthus cherishes so much. But now? Now you have persuaded the king to fight and we are all doomed. I hope you are satisfied, Roman.'

Cato stood stiffly and did not respond. For a moment there was a tense silence, and then Krathos sniffed with derision and turned to Prince Amethus. 'We should leave.'

Amethus nodded vaguely and rose to his feet. Krathos gestured towards the door and the prince walked away, trailed by Krathos and the rest of his small retinue.

'Don't worry about Krathos,' Sempronius said softly. 'He has little influence over the king, or even within the court for that matter. But his power over Amethus is a different matter.'

'I'm not worried about him,' Cato replied calmly. 'It's his brother who poses the real danger to us.'

'Prince Artaxes?' Sempronius raised his eyebrows. 'Of course.'

'No, not him,' Cato continued. 'Prince Balthus. Come what may, he will never forgive me for coming between him and his father. I fear we have just made a new enemy.'

'Really?' Macro shrugged. 'Right now, what's one more or less? Besides,' he licked his lips, 'it seems that fresh meat is back on the menu.'

08 Centurion