Centurion

'I see.' The king glanced past Macro to address Cato. 'And you?'

'Your Majesty?'

'Are you wounded?'

'No,Your Majesty. Not today.'

'Ah.' The king nodded and turned away with a dull expression to stare out over the wall, towards the oasis. The molten glow of the sun barely rimmed the horizon and long shadows spilled across the sand and the dark green fronds of the palm trees. Macro waited a little longer, in case there was any further remark from the king, and then he turned to Cato with a subtle shake of his head. But Cato was already looking the other way. Julia was lying beside her father and Cato was pleased that she was temporarily parted from Prince Balthus.

'So tell me, Prefect.' Sempronius spoke just loudly enough in Greek for the other guests to hear. 'How much of a fight did the rebels put up?'

Cato could not help a small smile as he considered the staged question and he made sure that his reply was equally audible. 'The majority of them are little more than a rabble, an armed mob. We have nothing to fear from them. Apart from that, I'm sure we can deal with Prince Artaxes' regular soldiers if they have the stomach for another fight. But I doubt they'll trouble us for a few days yet.'

Sempronius nodded sagely. 'And by then, I imagine General Longinus will be approaching the city with his legions.'

'I should think so, sir.'

'Good.Then we're saved.' Sempronius turned to face the king's chamberlain, who was standing a short distance in front of his master's table, his post for the night as he oversaw the timing and a

'Horsemeat sausage, horse steaks, horse cutlets in honey…' He forced a smile and raised his voice. 'Best rations I've had in months.' He paused as he saw a small bowl of what looked like a curious white fibrous fruit. He turned to Sempronius. 'Sir, excuse me. Do you know what those are?'

'Those?' The ambassador glanced at the bowl and smiled slightly. 'Why of course I do. That's a local delicacy, Centurion. You should really give them a try. And remember, always use the right hand,' he added as Macro leaned forward.

'Delicacy, eh?' Macro gri

He reached over and plucked one out of the bowl. As he withdrew his hand and examined the object in his fingers his expression froze. 'It looks like an eye.'

'It is. A sheep's eye to be precise.'

'Sheep's eye? Good Gods! What kind of delicacy is that?'

'One that you must try,' Sempronius insisted. 'And you too, Prefect, if you don't want to mortally offend our hosts.'

'What?' Cato looked horrified. But there was an earnest expression of compulsion from the ambassador. Even so, Cato shook his head. 'I can't.'

Despite his reservations of a moment earlier, Macro was amused by his friend's squeamishness. He leaned forward again and picked out another eye. 'Here, this one looks nice and juicy.' He held it out to Cato, who tried not to shrink away too obviously.Then Cato became aware that the other guests were looking at him expectantly, and reluctantly accepted the offering. Macro watched him with amusement for a moment and then winked.

'Bottoms up!'With one swift movement Macro popped the eye he still held into his mouth and made a brief chewing motion before he swallowed and smacked his lips. 'Delicious.'

Cato felt sick, but dared not refuse for fear of causing offence. He swallowed nervously, and with a last quick battle against his stomach's inclination to retch raised the eye to his lips and pressed it into his mouth. The tough muscle tissue surrounding the eyeball was slimy and tasted vaguely of vinegar. He tested the texture with his teeth and it was as unyielding and chewy as he had feared. Summoning up all his courage, he forced the eye to the back of his mouth and swallowed.

The guests cheered and gri

'Well done.'

Cato turned and saw Julia nodding at him. He forced a smile in return and replied in Latin,'Not so bad once you've tried it.'

'If you say so. Now try some of the sweetmeats. They'll help take your mind off it.'

As the guests settled down to eating their banquet, while continuing to talk in an animated fashion, Cato turned his attention briefly away from Julia to glance at the two princes sitting side by side, but not speaking, nor even willing to meet each other's gaze. It had been a mistake to seat them next to each other, Cato decided. The king's chamberlain had obviously hoped for a display of solidarity before the guests, but it was clear for all to see – the two brothers positively despised each other.

Macro had followed his friend's gaze and guessed his thoughts precisely. 'So much for unity,' he said softly. 'I fear we're going to be fighting on two fronts before too long.'

'Let's hope not.' Cato turned away and quickly helped himself to some chunks of spiced horsemeat in a rich sauce before Macro could offer him another eye.

The king stirred and shifted himself to face his Roman guests. 'You're a lucky man, ambassador.'

'How so,Your Majesty?'

'You have a fine daughter. A loyal daughter no doubt.'

'I like to think so.' Sempronius smiled and patted Julia on the arm.

'Quite,' the king continued.'Sometimes I wish that I had had daughters, and not two younger sons who fight like wolves in a pit. They always have. And when they have not been fighting each other, they have been defying me. As for Amethus – well, at least he has a good heart, even if he has no brains.'

Cato was astonished that the old man had spoken so openly before his sons. Behind Vabathus' back Cato saw Balthus staring rigidly ahead as he ate with a leaden lack of enthusiasm. On hearing the king's words Amethus had turned to stare at his father. Gradually his blank expression turned into an angry frown.

Vabathus continued in a weary tone. 'Such has been my burden, and the burden of my people. For who shall inherit the throne after I am gone? The most able and cherished of the three has proved to be a traitor, the oldest changes his mind more often than the wind changes direction, and Balthus pursues his pleasures to the exclusion of all else. What chance of survival has my kingdom if I choose one of them to succeed me?'

Prince Balthus set his cup down with a sharp rap. 'Enough! You do me wrong, Father! All I have ever tried to do is please you.'

Although the guests stirred and the conversation died at once, King Vabathus' tired expression did not flicker, as if he had not heard a thing, or had simply heard it too often.

'If you find fault in us,' Balthus continued, 'then I say it is your fault that you have not settled the matter of succession. Even though I am not your firstborn, I am the natural choice as your heir. If you had only confirmed me as your successor from the outset none of this would have happened. But no, you had to put it off.Year after year, and this is the result.Why do you think Artaxes is out there with his rebels? You dangled the prospect of the throne in front of his eyes for too long.You tempted him until his patience snapped. If you had only chosen me then Artaxes would have known his place, and he would not be out there with an army and we would not be caught in this trap…' Balthus shut his eyes and clenched his fists, trying to control his anger.