The Gladiator

An even graver fate awaited those slaves who had been identified as the ringleaders, or who had been captured under arms. They were being held at Olous pending shipment to Rome, where they would be put to death in the arena. It was rumoured that Claudius was contemplating a gladiatorial spectacle in an artificial lake being constructed outside Rome. A re-enactment of the battle of Actium, with scaled-down ships and thousands of condemned men to man the fleets. Sempronius was certain that the contribution from Crete would be welcomed and the rebels would be consigned to a role that left them little prospect of survival.

Sempronius felt bitter that Ajax had escaped. He should have been tortured and put to death, before the gaze of his followers. Every indignity that he had visited upon Sempronius's daughter would have been repaid with interest. As yet the details were mercifully vague, and Cato's report had been terse in its description of her and Macro's period of captivity. For that Sempronius was grateful. He tried not to let his imagination fill in the gaps in Cato's account. That was unbearably painful and caused him such grief as he had not known since the death of his wife, the only other person he had ever loved without qualification.

At least Julia was alive and safe, Sempronius comforted himself.

She was with Cato in his camp at Olous. That made the orders he had sent back to Cato difficult to write. But he knew that he must authorise a pursuit of Ajax as swiftly as possible. The emperor would demand it. Therefore Centurions Macro and Cato were to pick up Ajax's trail and capture or kill him and his followers. Sempronius had revoked Cato's temporary promotion to tribune now that the crisis was over and he had returned to his normal rank. Their orders informed Macro and Cato that they were to act with the full authority of the governor of Crete in this matter, and all Roman officials they encountered were charged to extend themevery possible aid. Ajax, and everything that he stood for, was to be eliminated as ruthlessly and completely as possible, so that every person in the empire knew the fate that awaited slaves who rose against their masters. Two of the liburnians from Balbus's squadron had been commandeered, as well as two centuries of legionaries.

Centurion Fulvius had already complained and would no doubt try to stir things up between Sempronius and the legate back in Egypt.

That was too bad, reflected the senator. He would always be grateful to Petronius for his support, and swore to Jupiter, Best and Greatest, that he would return the favour to his old friend one day.

Meanwhile, he made straight for the headquarters tent and the reunion with his daughter. After they had embraced, he held her at arm's length, looking for signs of injury, or a deeper hurt in her eyes.

Julia smiled back.

'I'm all right, Father. Truly. You don't have to look at me like that.'

He held her close again, because he did not trust himself enough to contain the tearful joy that filled his heart. At length he eased himself away from her.' Now then, where is this young man of yours?'

'He's down in the bay with Macro, provisioning their ships.' Julia paused and looked earnestly at her father. 'Must he go? So soon?'

'You know he must,' Sempronius replied firmly. 'It's his duty.'

'Duty.' Julia smiled sadly. 'Always duty. It's a curse, that's what it is.'

He nodded sadly. 'It is always the curse of those who serve the empire with distinction, my dear. Come now, let's go and find him.'

The two liburnians lay beyond the damaged grain ships, and as Sempronius and Julia rode up towards the warships they could see that the men were loading the last of their stores. Legionaries, stripped to their tunics, were carrying spare weapons, kit, rations and water aboard up the narrow gangways that stretched from the shallows to the decks. Macro and Cato were standing on the beach conferring as they checked the entries of supplies on a large waxed tablet. As they noticed the approach of the governor and his escort, they turned to salute him.

Sempronius dismounted and strode across to them.

'Good to see you again, Macro. I was afraid I'd be denied that pleasure.'

Macro was thi

'I don't die easy, sir. Never have and never will.'

'Delighted to hear it!'

They shared a smile, and then Sempronius turned to Cato.

'Would you mind if I had a brief word with Macro before I speak with you?'

'No, sir,' Cato replied with a slight frown and turned towards Julia.

'You can come and sit with me.'

They walked beyond the final consignment of stores piled higher up the beach and sat down on the sand. Julia leaned her head against Cato's shoulder as he placed his arm around her. They did not talk for a moment, too aware of the imminence of their separation. At length Julia muttered,'It's not fair.'

'No.'

'Have you any idea how long you will be gone?'

'That rather depends on Ajax. But I shall come and find you in Rome the moment he is taken or killed. I swear it.'

Julia nodded but kept her silence, and Cato knew that she was struggling not to show her feelings. Every so often he glanced back towards the senator and Macro, and saw that they were locked in earnest conversation. Sempronius held Macro's arm and seemed to be entreating him to share a point of view. At first Macro seemed reluctant, but then, as he looked briefly at Cato and thought a moment, he consented and they shook on it.

'Cato!' Sempronius waved him over.

He and Julia stood up and strode back down the beach to rejoin the others. Macro stood still with a serious expression as Sempronius regarded Cato gravely.

'I have had to make a difficult decision, Cato, and one that you might find hard to live with at first,' Sempronius began. 'But it is my judgement that this mission has the best chance of success with you in command.'

'Me?' Cato stared at him and then looked to Macro. 'Surely not?'

'That's what he says,' Macro replied. 'And he's right. I agree with the senator.'

'Why?' Cato felt pained by the situation. He had always assumed that he was destined to be Macro's subordinate in the years to come.

It seemed the only natural way to be. Macro had taught himeverything about soldiering. It was to Macro's experience and qualities as a soldier that Cato looked when he needed to set himself an example. He turned back to Sempronius. 'Sir, I am honoured, but I can't accept this. Macro is my superior.'

'He is that, in many things,' Sempronius conceded. 'But this task will require more skills, more circumspection than raw soldiering.

That is why I have chosen you.' He reached into the small bag that hung from his belt and drew out a scroll. 'This is your letter of appointment to the rank of prefect.'

'Prefect?' Cato was astonished. The rank paved the way for appointment to the command of an auxiliary cohort.

'It is subject to the emperor's approval, of course,' Sempronius continued. 'But I hope that I can persuade Claudius to make the promotion permanent. If anyone deserves it, you do. Congratulations.'

They clasped arms briefly, then Macro stepped forward.

'I'd like to offer my congratulations too.' He gave a broken smile.

'Sir.'

The word cut through Cato like a knife. It did not seem right.

Not natural. He forced a smile in return. 'Thank you... for everything.'

Macro nodded, then jerked his thumb at the furthest liburnian.

'My lads are done. I'll have the ship put into the water, if that's all right, sir?'

'Yes.' Cato nodded. 'Whatever you say'

Macro sighed, wagged a finger, then turned and strode towards the gangway of his ship.