Centurion

When the last of the fugitives had joined the crowd Macro took a deep breath.

'Open the gates!'

The men assigned to the gates drew back the locking bar and hauled on the chains. The gates rumbled open and the rosy light of dawn flooded into the citadel. The crowd turned to the light and for an instant their cries faded away as they contemplated their immediate fate.

'Let's move them out!' Macro bellowed.'Present javelins!'

His men lowered the points of their weapons and the nearest civilians recoiled in fright.The cries of panic and fear rose up once again so that Macro had to cup both hands to his mouth and bellow at the top of his voice for his orders to be heard.

'At the slow step… advance!'

The line of Roman soldiers rippled forward, closing in on the crowd. At first none moved, and then the pressure from those closest to the javelin tips inevitably forced them to flow towards the gate and they began to spill out on to the agora. Macro strode across to the gatehouse stairs and climbed up on to the rampart. Cato was looking out over the agora towards the rebels' artillery platform.

'Not our finest hour,' Macro said quietly as he joined his friend.

Cato glanced at him distractedly, then grasped what Macro had said. 'No, I suppose not. Couldn't be helped.'

'That's small compensation for those poor bastards, and not much better for those of us who had to deal with it.'

Cato had turned his attention back towards the enemy lines and Macro sighed with frustration.'What's eating you?'

'It's gone very quiet over there,' Cato replied. 'Hardly seen any movement.'

Macro shielded his eyes and stared towards the merchants' yards, then along towards the temple precinct. Two figures, boys he guessed, were busy picking over the equipment outside the temple. 'I see what you mean.'

'So what are they up to?'

Macro shrugged. 'Buggered if I know. But they're out there. They have to be. We'll know soon enough, once they see that lot.'

He nodded down to the civilians streaming out across the agora. Most went a short distance and stopped, staring warily at the buildings and the street openings opposite the citadel. A handful of others, bolder than the rest, sprinted for the nearest cover in a bid to escape before the rebels could respond. Macro's gaze sca

The rampart trembled beneath their boots as the gates were closed. Still there was no sign of the enemy and Cato's fingers drummed nervously against his scabbard.

'What the hell are they waiting for?' he muttered.

Down in the agora the civilians had become aware of the silence from the rebels and began to move swiftly from the open area into the streets leading away from the marketplace. Soon the paved expanse was empty and silent, and no distant cries of panic nor sounds of slaughter drifted up from the city.

'Something's happened,' said Cato. 'We have to find out.'

'It could be a trap.'

'Perhaps. But we have to know.'

'All right then.' Macro nodded. He turned away and crossed over to the other side of the gatehouse and called down to the legionaries below. 'Centurion Braccus!'

'Yes, sir?'

'Send out two sections. Check the temple precinct and the merchants' yards. Have your men report back to me as soon as possible.'

'Yes, sir.' Braccus turned to the nearest men and gave his orders. Moments later one of the gates was opened far enough to permit the legionaries to pass through in single file. From the ramparts Macro and Cato watched them separate, one party jingling obliquely across the agora towards the temple while the other made straight for the position the rebels had fortified to protect their artillery battery. They trotted round the corner and out of sight. A short while later Macro and Cato saw some of the men moving along the wall. There was no sign of the enemy. It was the same over by the temple. Then the section leaders came ru

Macro cupped his hand and shouted down to them. 'What did you find?'

'Nothing, sir. They've gone. They've abandoned everything. The catapults are still there. So's the makings of another ram. But the rebels seem to have disappeared, sir.'

Macro turned to Cato. 'What's going on? Why would they abandon the siege? Anyway, where the hell have they gone?'

'I don't like it. It could still be a trap.'

Macro smiled thinly.'Look on the bright side. No sign of a wooden horse.'

Cato flashed an irritated look at his friend.

'All right. Sorry. Now isn't the time.'

'No.'

Macro undid the straps of his helmet and took it off. His sweat-drenched hair was plastered to his skull and he rubbed his hand over the dark curls. Then he thumped his fist on the stone parapet in front of him. 'What the fuck are they playing at? If they're not there then they must have left the city during the night. Why the hell would they do that?'

Then Cato recalled the parley he had held with Prince Artaxes, and the man who had rushed to the prince to bring him a message. He turned to Macro, eyes bright with excitement. 'It's Longinus! Their patrols must have seen him approaching. The rebels have fled.'

'Longinus?'

'Yes. It has to be!' Cato clapped his friend on the shoulder. 'We're saved!'

'Easy there,' Macro cautioned him. 'If it's Longinus, then where is he? Besides, he'd have had to march like the wind to reach Palmyra so soon.'

Cato ran across to the nearest tower and climbed the steps two at a time. At the top, heart beating wildly, he ran to the rampart and sca

'Over there! Macro, over there!'

Below, Macro followed the direction indicated by his friend, squinted for a moment, and then let out a loud whoop and punched his fist into the morning sky. 'We're saved!' He turned to the other men on the ramparts. 'It's Longinus! General Longinus!'

The cry was taken up along the wall and down below by the gate and the air swelled with the wild cheers of the defenders. All the weariness and hunger of the previous days was forgotten as they cheered and laughed and slapped each other on the back. Cato came ru

'We did it! We held out!' He tried to summon up a little composure. 'Congratulations, sir.'

Macro waved the praise aside. 'That was close. A few more days…'

'It doesn't matter,' Cato cut in. 'We're saved!'

'Saved?' Macro nodded. He looked out over the agora, towards the street down which Jesmiah had marched to meet her fate. 'Yes, we're saved. All of us.'

08 Centurion