Centurion

by Simon Scarrow

  ‘You wouldn’t say that if you’d been with us in the desert when we took on a small force of horse-archers, sir. If it hadn’t been for Prince Balthus and his men …’

  ‘Then it’s as well that the prince and his followers are joining our force. They are finding fresh mounts even now.’

  ‘Balthus is coming with us?’ Macro interrupted. ‘Why?’

  ‘His father made the offer of his son’s services, and I’m happy enough to add a few levies to my strength. They might be useful in a scouting role and save our men the job. We should have enough mounted men to counter any threat of horse-archers. Does that set your mind at rest?’

  ‘Frankly, sir, no,’ said Cato.

  General Longinus frowned. ‘Why is that?’

  ‘The desert is cavalry country for the most part, sir. You cannot protect your flanks. You cannot prevent the enemy from circling round behind you. I would not offer battle unless you can choose your ground, somewhere the terrain permits a large infantry force to confront the enemy with secure flanks, or use high ground to slow down their mounts. If the Parthians catch our column in the open desert they can strike from any direction, loose off their arrows and retreat before our cavalry can close on them.’

  ‘No more than a nuisance, Prefect. It won’t stop us advancing on their main force.’

  ‘But their cavalry is their main force, sir. That’s the point. At first it will seem like just a series of harassing attacks. They will lure us on, deeper into the desert, all the time whittling down our numbers and making our men fear living under the threat of a sudden shower of arrows.’

  ‘Then what would you have me do, Prefect?’ There was an exasperated edge to the general’s voice. ‘Call off the advance and let Artaxes and his rebels escape?’

  ‘With respect, yes, sir. That’s precisely what I would do.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘We have Palmyra. There is nothing of any strategic value between here and the Euphrates. If the Parthians want war, then let them attack us here, on our terms. They will only wear themselves out attacking the walls of the city. As for Prince Artaxes? The best he can hope for is exile in Parthia. His rebels will have to join him there, or drift back to Palmyra and seek a pardon from the king. Artaxes is a spent force, sir. We can ignore him.’

  ‘I will not ignore him. I will not hand the initiative to the enemy. I will find them and defeat them. They cannot be allowed to defy Rome.’

  ‘I’m sure that’s what General Crassus thought, sir.’

  Longinus waved his hand dismissively. ‘Crassus was a fool. He ventured too far into enemy territory. I am simply going after a band of rebels. Of course, if there is a Parthian force out there, they will have to stand and fight with their Palmyran allies, or abandon them. If that happens, then we will have Prince Artaxes in the bag, and we will have proved the worthlessness of any alliance with Parthia. We have the advantage now.’ General Longinus smiled reassuringly. ‘I understand what you and Centurion Macro have endured these past days, and you and your men could well do with a rest and a chance to recover. It might be best if you remained here, if you are not fit and ready to join the campaign.’

  Cato shook his head. ‘We don’t need a rest. We’re ready to fight, sir.’

  ‘Good. I will need every man I can get to track down and crush the rebels. So, if you have nothing further to add, Prefect?’

  Longinus paused and fixed Cato with a hard stare, daring him to continue to stand in his way. Sempronius stepped forward.

  ‘General, if I may say something?’

  Longinus’ gaze flicked to the ambassador. ‘Well? What is it?’

  ‘These officers have proved their courage, and their ability, time and again, not only in defence of the citadel, but in fighting their way across the desert and into the city in the first place. I have no doubts about their mettle, nor their understanding of the enemy and his tactics. You would do well to heed their advice.’

  ‘Would I?’ Longinus turned to his small coterie of staff officers, mainly young tribunes on their first military posting. They smiled knowingly. Cato felt his blood burn in his veins. What did they understand of desert fighting? What could they know, fresh from their fine houses in Rome? The only action they could have seen since arriving in the east was in the whorehouses of Antioch and the other fleshpots of the cities garrisoned by the legions in Syria. He suddenly felt the full weight of his weariness and knew that there was nothing he could do to persuade Longinus to change his plans. He glanced at Macro and bowed his head in resignation.

  Longinus noted the gesture and clasped his hands together behind his back as he continued. ‘There. The discussion is over, gentlemen. I want our men ready to begin the pursuit the moment they are reprovisioned. See to it that the orders are given at once. Sempronius, I’d like a word with these two officers alone, if you wouldn’t mind?’

  Sempronius stared at the general for a moment before he nodded. ‘As you wish. I’ll be in my quarters, Cato. Please do me the kindness of calling in before you leave the city.’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  The staff officers saluted and filed out of the chamber, together with the ambassador. Longinus waited until the last of them had closed the door behind him, and then he rounded on Cato.

  ‘What do you think you were doing, questioning my authority like that?’

  ‘I have a duty to express my professional opinion, sir.’

  ‘Damn your professional opinion! You are a subordinate officer, and merely an acting prefect at that. Why do you think I chose to send you and Macro out here in the first place? Because you were the best men for the job? Wake up, Cato. I chose you because you were expendable. Because I wanted you out of the way. Permanently. You two are little more than Narcissus’ pet spies. You’re not real soldiers at all. It’s a miracle you ever made it through to the garrison. The pair of you have the most damnable luck. Maybe it’s as well that you will join my army. Your good fortune may rub off on us.’ Longinus paused, and for the first time Cato sensed that he had some doubts about his decision to pursue Artaxes.

  ‘Have you finished with us, sir?’ Macro asked gruffly.

  Longinus stared at him fixedly for a moment and then nodded. ‘Have your men ready to march. You can fall in at the rear of my column, where you belong. Now get out of my sight.’

  Sempronius leaned back in his chair and shook his head. ‘There’s nothing I can do about it, Cato. I’m only an ambassador. I was sent here to conclude a treaty with King Vabathus and that’s all. Longinus has a far greater authority than mine in this situation. If he’s determined to press ahead with his campaign then he will.’

  ‘But it’s foolhardy,’ Cato responded. ‘He’s going after Artaxes with a few days’ supply of food and water. If there’s no immediate contact then he’ll be forced to retreat. If he leaves that too late then who knows how many men he’s going to lose on the way back.’

  ‘He must know that,’ Sempronius replied. ‘He’s no fool, Cato. I know the man well enough. He’s just ambitious.’

  ‘Ambitious?’ Macro laughed bitterly. ‘Oh, he’s more ambitious than you can ever know.’

  Sempronius stared at Macro for a moment. ‘What do you mean by that?’

  ‘Nothing.’ Macro waved a hand dismissively. ‘Just tiredness speaking. I didn’t mean anything by it. Well, just that he’s a glory-hunter, like most of his kind.’

  ‘I see,’ Sempronius replied evenly. He turned to his daughter, who was sitting next to Cato. ‘My dear, would you mind finding us a jar of wine?’

  ‘Wine?’ Julia looked surprised. ‘Now?’

  ‘Of course. These men are about to march off to war. They deserve a drink. Find some of the good stuff. I believe the steward has a few jars left.’

  Julia frowned. ‘Why don’t you send someone else to fetch it, Father?’

  ‘I’d like you to go, my dear. Right now.’

  For a moment Julia did not move and her father looked at her intently. With a frustr
ated sigh, she rose from her seat and strode towards the door, shutting it loudly behind her.

  ‘Was that necessary?’ Cato asked.

  ‘She is my daughter. I will do all that I can to protect her. Which means there are certain things she must not know, for her own safety. Like this business with Longinus. You are not being straight with me, either of you. What is going on?’

  Cato smiled. ‘As you said, sir, there are certain things it is dangerous to know.’

  ‘This is bollocks,’ Macro said in a sudden burst of frustration. ‘I’ve had enough of this, Cato. I’m a bloody soldier, not a spy.’

  ‘Macro!’ Cato warned him. ‘Don’t.’

  Macro shook his head. ‘I’ll have my say, damn it. If that bastard Longinus is going to lead us into disaster then I want someone to know why. Someone who can go back to Rome and tell the truth.’

  ‘What truth would that be?’ Sempronius asked.

  ‘Longinus has a taste for the purple,’ said Macro. ‘That’s how ambitious he is.’

  ‘Is it true?’ Sempronius asked Cato.

  Cato glanced angrily at Macro and then took a deep breath and resigned himself to explaining the situation. ‘We think so. We don’t have enough evidence to prove it. He’s been good at covering his tracks. That’s what I think all this is about. He wants a victory. To build his reputation and prove what a good servant he is of Rome, and the Emperor. It’s also why he sent me and Macro out here ahead of the main column. We weren’t supposed to succeed. It seems we were supposed to die. Just another incriminating detail disposed of.’

  Sempronius looked at them both before he spoke. ‘If that’s the case, he’s going to rather a lot of trouble to get rid of you.’

  ‘He has good reason to want us dead.’

  ‘You’re not just ordinary line officers, are you?’

  Cato did not reply and shot a warning glance at Macro, who just shrugged and looked out of the window.

  Sempronius let the awkward silence drag out for a while and then cleared his throat. ‘I’ll have you know that I am a loyal servant of Emperor Claudius. I can be trusted. But there’s something else. I’m well aware that there is more than a passing friendship between you and my daughter, Cato. Julia has told me everything. Everything, you understand? Now, I assume that means that you wish to take her as your wife?’

  Cato’s mind raced to grapple with the unexpected direction the conversation was taking. His intense feeling for Julia was thrown into conflict with the need to keep secret the true purpose of his and Macro’s being sent to the eastern Empire. Sempronius sensed his dilemma and continued.

  ‘Like Longinus, I am no fool, Cato. I can sense the hand of Narcissus behind all this. I am Julia’s father. Before I can consent to her marrying you, I need to know that she will be safe. That she will not be in danger if she binds herself to you. I’m well aware of the risks of being a soldier. I’m also aware of the far greater risks a man runs in serving Narcissus. All that I ask is that you are honest with me. Are you an imperial agent?’

  Cato felt trapped. There was no easy way out of this. No glib answer that would save him from revealing the truth. Besides, Sempronius had obviously guessed almost as much as Cato could have told him. He already knew that the two officers were working for the imperial secretary.

  ‘We were sent east by Narcissus to report on Longinus,’ Cato admitted wearily. Ever since Narcissus had pressed them into his service Cato and Macro had been thrown into situations as perilous as any they had faced in the ranks of the Second Legion. Cato wanted, more than ever, to return to a military career free of the secret plots and political infighting that made up the world of the imperial secretary. He drew a deep breath and continued. ‘Narcissus suspected that the general was preparing to use the eastern legions in a bid for the imperial throne. Macro and I managed to upset his plans, and now he’s covering his tracks. If anything happens to us, you should tell Narcissus that he was right, but we had too little evidence to prove it. We’re not imperial agents, sir. Macro and I are soldiers. Somehow we just got caught up with Narcissus.’

  Sempronius smiled sadly. ‘You wouldn’t be the first men that had happened to. That’s how Narcissus operates. Some men he recruits directly. Some he bribes. Others are threatened into working for him. Men like you are just slowly sucked into his world of plots and conspiracies. My advice to you is to get as far from him as you can, if you live through this campaign. Whatever rewards he offers you, go back to soldiering, and nothing else.’

  ‘That’ll be the day,’ Macro grumbled.

  ‘Nothing would please us more,’ said Cato. He leaned forward and crossed his arms on the table. ‘And Julia?’

  ‘Julia?’

  ‘Do I have your permission to marry her, sir?’

  Sempronius looked at the young officer for a moment. ‘No. Not yet.’

  The answer struck Cato’s heart like a hammer blow and he bit back on the wave of bitterness and despair that threatened to engulf him. ‘Why?’

  ‘By your own admission, you are facing great danger in the coming days. However, if you live, if you return to Palmyra unharmed, if you can complete your work here in the eastern Empire, then I would give my consent. But only then.’

  Cato felt the relief wash through him, but it was tempered by the knowledge of the odds stacked against him, and he nodded sombrely. ‘I will live.’

  The door opened and Julia entered the room with a plain wooden tray bearing a small stoppered amphora, and four silver goblets.

  ‘The last of my Falernian?’ Sempronius frowned as he recognised the amphora.

  ‘You said the good stuff, Father.’

  ‘Yes. Yes, I did. Well then, let’s have our toast.’

  Sempronius reached for the amphora and pulled out the stopper. The musty fruit scent of the wine wafted into the air. He carefully poured them each a full goblet and put the stopper firmly back in place.

  In the distance the flat blast of a bucina rang out.

  ‘They’re sounding assembly,’ Macro explained to Sempronius and his daughter. He turned to Cato. ‘Better drink up quickly. We have to go.’

  ‘Wait,’ said Sempronius. He glanced at Julia and then raised his goblet. ‘We shall always be grateful to both of you for what you did here in Palmyra. I doubt that there are two finer men in the Roman army. Rome needs you. To that end, I propose this toast. Come back alive.’

  Macro laughed. ‘I’ll drink to that!’

  He raised his goblet and drained it in one gulp and set his cup down with a sharp rap on the table. He smacked his lips. ‘Nice drop of wine.’

  Sempronius, who had sipped his, winced slightly as he glanced at the empty goblet. ‘If there was time, I’d offer you some more.’

  ‘Ah, thank you, sir. You’re most kind.’ Macro picked up the amphora and tucked it under his arm. ‘For the road, then. Come on, Cato, we have to go.’

  Julia reached her spare hand across the table and clasped Cato’s. She stared into his eyes pleadingly. ‘Come back alive.’

  Cato felt the warm pressure of her fingers and caressed the soft skin on the back of her hand with his thumb. ‘I will come back. I swear it, by all that’s sacred.’

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  The army set off along the trade route that Artaxes had retreated down the previous night. General Longinus had sent his two cavalry cohorts and legionary scouts ahead to skirmish with the enemy’s rearguard in an attempt to slow the rebels down. The rest of the army trudged along in a haze of dust that choked the lungs and made them squint and blink as it found its way into their eyes. Some tried to pull their scarves over their mouths to filter the dust even though it was awkward and made them feel the heat still more.

  Naturally, the worst place to be in the line of march was at the rear, where Macro and his men marched behind the rest of the Tenth Legion, with Cato and the Second Illyrian following. On their flanks rode Prince Balthus and his small contingent of horse-archers, now remounted from the few horses
left behind by the rebels. Cato and Macro were marching together beside their men when Balthus trotted over to them and dismounted, leading his horse by the reins as he closed up with the two Romans.

  ‘So here we are again, my friends,’ he said cheerfully. ‘This time the tables are turned and my brother is on the run. Ha, when we catch up with him, I pray to Bel that it is my arrow, or blade, that takes his life.’

  Macro shook his head. ‘Growing up must have been fun in your family.’

  ‘Family?’ Balthus thought for a moment. ‘A royal palace is not like a home, Centurion. And the people who live there are not like a family. From childhood one knows that one’s brothers are rivals. Deadly rivals. Once the king has chosen a successor, then his brothers are unnecessary distractions at best, and ruthless competitors at worst. It has always been so. Did you know that my father was the oldest of five brothers? How many of the others are alive today, do you think?’

  Macro shrugged. ‘How should I know?’

  ‘One.’

  ‘One?’ Cato mused. ‘Where is he then?’

  ‘Did you not realise?’ Balthus looked amused. ‘He is Thermon. My father’s youngest brother. And he only lives because my father ordered him to be castrated so that there would be no family rivals for my brothers and me.’

  Macro frowned. ‘By the Gods, this is a truly fucked-up little kingdom.’

  ‘You think so?’ Balthus raised his eyebrows. ‘Is it so different in Rome? What happened to your previous emperor? Gaius Caligula? Was he not butchered by his own bodyguards? I am not an ignorant provincial, Centurion. I have read many books. Many histories. Yours most of all. Truly you have a uniquely violent past.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Before Caesar Augustus, how many of your people died fighting each other? Your generals and great statesmen were tearing at each other like wolves in a pit. Raising vast armies against their rivals. It’s a wonder there are enough of you left to rule your empire.’

  Macro stopped abruptly and turned towards the prince. ‘Did you ride over here just to have a go at me and my empire?’