Centurion

Macro puffed his cheeks out and scratched the back of his head. 'Well? Do you think he did it? Did he kill his brother?'

Sempronius thought for a moment before he replied, 'No question about it. It has to be Balthus.'

Cato nodded. 'In which case, we're in trouble. Deep trouble.We have an enemy at the gate, a killer inside and an ally who suspects us of killing his son. Long odds.'

Macro chuckled grimly. 'Since when did you take up gambling, my lad?'

Cato was silent for a moment before he shrugged. 'Since I met you, sir.'

08 Centurion

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

'What do you suppose they are up to?' asked Macro as he squinted, trying to make out the activity down in the merchants' yards on the other side of the agora. Cato was standing beside him on the gatehouse, shielding his eyes from the sun's glare as he stared in the same direction. A hundred paces away the rebels were busy, and from beyond the wall of the merchants' yards came the sounds of sawing and hammering.

'Another ram, perhaps,' Cato suggested. 'They've had enough time to gather more materials.'

Eight days had passed since the previous attempt to batter down the gates, and the death of Amethus. The king had spent the time grieving for his son. Rather longer than was wise, since the corpse had quickly putrefied in the heat, even though it had been moved to one of the coolest underground storage chambers beneath the citadel. Vabathus had finally allowed the priests of the Temple of Bel to anoint and dress the body for the funeral and a pyre had been prepared in the courtyard outside the royal quarters. Shortage of wood had forced the palace servants to break up some furniture and doors in order to build a pyre worthy of a prince. As the sun set at the end of the day Amethus would be placed on the pyre and it would be lit, allowing the flames to purify his body and send his spirit whirling into the night sky.

Rumours about the prince's death had swept through the hungry ranks of the soldiers and civilians in the citadel and the various camps regarded each other with mutual suspicion and wariness. Cato had experienced it at first hand when he went to visit Archelaus in the hospital two days after the murder. The Greek mercenary was sitting on a bedroll in the colo

'Medicine.'

Archelaus smiled briefly. 'Just what I needed.'

Cato eased himself down on to the ground beside the tetrarch and leaned back against the wall with a weary sigh, offering the jar to the other man.

'How goes it?' asked Archelaus. 'Haven't heard any more action from the walls.'

'No. The rebels have been quiet enough. But then, maybe they can afford to be. We're ru

'Is that likely?' Archelaus pulled the stopper and took a long swig of wine.

'I don't know,' Cato admitted. 'Anyway, how is the shoulder?'

'Painful, Roman. My arm's useless. I don't think I'll be back in the fight. Not for a while.'

'That's a damn pity.We need every man who can hold a sword or a spear. Mind you, the way things are, people in the citadel are as likely to use them on each other as on the rebels.'

There was an uncomfortable silence between them before Archelaus took another quick swig and continued, 'Word has it that the prince was killed by his brother.'

Cato shifted so that he could look straight at the Greek. 'Is that right? Is that what they're saying?' He shrugged. 'Balthus might have done it. He has plenty to gain from ridding himself of a rival to the throne. But he was with others when the murder happened.'

'Then look to that slave of his. Carpex.'

Cato thought about it and nodded. 'It might be worth having a little talk with Carpex. Just to see if he knows anything.'

'You might also like to know that other people are accusing a Roman of killing the prince. One of the king's advisers, Krathos, is spreading that story. He's saying that now that Amethus is dead, you'll kill Balthus, and then the king himself, and claim Palmyra for Rome.'

Cato laughed at this, then stopped as he saw that Archelaus was watching him, stony-faced. 'Surely you're not falling for that story?'

Archelaus pursed his lips. 'I'm just telling you what I've heard. Doesn't mean much to me, or most of the other mercenaries in the king's guard. As long as we get paid. Trouble is, if the rumour is true, then we're out of a job. So be careful, Prefect, when you're around the king or the prince. Their guards will be watching for any sign of treachery. They'll strike first and ask questions later.'

'Just what we need,' Cato muttered. 'Men jumping at shadows.'

'Well, someone killed the prince. And they had their reasons.'

Cato shook his head. 'This is starting to get out of hand. Anyway, I have to go. Keep the wine.' He stood up and stretched his back before nodding to Archelaus. 'Look after yourself.'

'You too, Roman. And watch your back.'

'I will.' Cato turned away and after a moment's hesitation made for the room at the end of the colo

'Don't you ever take a break?' he called to her.

Julia stopped and glanced over her shoulder with a tired smile. 'No. Do you?'

As Cato crossed the room she quickly wiped her hands on her long tunic. Standing in the shaft of light angling through the window she looked radiant in a way that Cato had never seen before and he felt his heart quicken as he approached. Then something wholly unexpected happened. Without thinking, Cato took her hands, dipped his face towards hers and kissed her on the lips. He sensed Julia freeze, but only for a moment before she responded, pressing her lips gently against his, and releasing his hands so that she could circle her slender arms behind his back and draw Cato into a tight embrace. Cato felt a rush of light-headedness and a thrill of passion coursed through every vein in his body. He closed his arms round her, holding her close to him, tightly.

She suddenly drew her mouth away from his.'Ouch! Do you mind?'

'What? What's the matter?'

Julia nodded down towards the pommel of his sword. 'That was poking into me. I think.'

Cato blushed. 'I'm sorry. I didn't mean to… I got carried away.'

'You certainly did!' Julia kissed him again, quickly. 'At last. I was wondering when you would kiss me. At least, I was hoping you would.'

Cato cupped her cheek in his hand and gazed into her eyes. 'Then you feel the same?'

'Of course I do, you silly fool.' She kissed his hand. 'Honestly, Cato, most men can't keep their hands off women. I was begi

'We've only known each other for a few days. Am I that transparent?' Cato smiled ruefully.

'Only in the way that matters to me.' She reached up to his shoulder and pulled his face down towards hers and kissed him again, much more fully and for longer this time, until there was an embarrassed cough and a knock at the door frame. Julia pulled herself away from Cato and glanced towards the surgeon. 'Yes, what is it?'

'Found some more dressings, my lady. They'll need washing.'

'Fine. Then bring them here.'

'Er,' Cato mumbled. 'I'd, er, better get back to the men. I'll see you again, then?'

'Of course.' Julia looked surprised. 'You don't get away from me that easily.'