Centurion

'There's trouble,' Macro muttered as he saw the grimy bandage round the head of the approaching rider. At the last moment the rider reined in savagely, scattering dirt and gravel. He saluted and immediately reached inside his tunic, groping for something.

'Who the hell are you?' Longinus demanded.

The man licked his dried lips before he replied, 'Tribune Gaius Carinius, on detached duty from the Sixth Legion, sir. I've come from Palmyra.' He found what he was looking for and wrenched a waxed tablet from inside his tunic and thrust it towards the governor. 'A dispatch from the ambassador, Lucius Sempronius, at Palmyra, sir.'

Longinus took the tablet. He glanced at the rider.'What's happened?'

The man swallowed hard, struggling for breath. 'There's been a revolt in Palmyra, sir. Parthian sympathisers. They mean to depose the king and tear up his treaty with Rome.'

08 Centurion

CHAPTER SIX

Cato watched as the tribune eased himself on to one of the chairs that had been set in an arc in the governor's study. He glanced round at the other officers who had been summoned there by Cassius Longinus. In addition to Amatius and the commanders of the other auxiliary cohorts in the camp, there was Macro and himself. Cato wondered why he had been included.

Longinus gestured towards the tribune, who still bore the grime of his hard ride. He had only had a brief chance to take refreshments while the officers had been hurriedly assembled in the governor's house. 'Carinius, if you please. Tell them what you told me while we were waiting.'

Carinius nodded, and cleared his throat. 'Five days ago the youngest son of King Vabathus, Prince Artaxes, announced to the Palmyran court that he would succeed his father.' Tribune Carinius paused to smile briefly. 'The trouble is that Artaxes is the youngest of the three sons, and so not immediately in line to inherit the throne. However, the oldest son, Amethus, is not politically astute and the second son, Balthus, spends all his days hunting, drinking and womanising. Artaxes is definitely the brains of the family, as well as the biggest threat to Rome. He was sent east as a child to be educated at the Parthian court. It seems that somewhere in his education he learned to hate Rome with a passion, and he has managed to persuade many of the Palmyran nobles to share his views.'

'I see.' Amatius nodded. 'But surely the king would not tolerate such a challenge to his authority?'

Longinus tapped the waxed tablet sent by the Roman quaestor who served as Rome's ambassador at the court of King Vabathus. 'The king is old. And Artaxes is his favourite son. The only thing to divide his affections is his loyalty to Rome. But who knows how far that loyalty will stretch in the current situation? Sempronius says that Thermon, the king's chamberlain, acts in his name. He, at least, is dependable. So he should be given the amount we pay him on the quiet. According to the ambassador, Artaxes demanded the crown at once. The chamberlain refused and fighting broke out amongst their supporters. Artaxes had managed to win over one of the king's generals and has nearly a thousand men under his control. Thermon could only count on the king's bodyguard and the households of those nobles who remained loyal to the king. And Sempronius and his retinue, of course. They have retreated into the citadel, together with the king and his oldest son.'

'What of the other son, the hunter?' asked Cato. 'What's happened to him?'

Longinus turned to the tribune. 'Well?'

'Balthus was hunting in the hills to the north when Artaxes made his move. There was still no word of him when the ambassador sent me to find you, sir.'

'Too bad,' Macro commented.'We could use him on our side right now.'

'I wouldn't be too sure of that,' said the tribune. 'Balthus is no great lover of Rome. We're just fortunate he hates the Parthians, and only dislikes us.'

Macro cocked his head to one side. 'Well, my enemy's enemy and all that. He could still prove useful to us.'

'Perhaps,' Longinus considered.'But we'll use him only if we really have to. The last thing Rome needs is to remove one threat only to have another put in its place. In any case, as far as we know the king and his allies are trapped in the citadel at Palmyra. According to Sempronius' message they have adequate of food and water and as long as Artaxes doesn't get hold of any siege equipment then they should be able to hold the citadel for a while yet. Of course, we can assume that our Parthian friends had some advance warning of Artaxes' intentions. Even if they didn't, word will have reached them a matter of days after it reached us. So at best we have the slimmest of head starts, gentlemen. We must send help to King Vabathus.'

Amatius shook his head. 'But, sir, the army is not ready. The other legions haven't left their bases yet. Even the Tenth is not prepared to march. Many of my men are on detached duties and it will take several days to concentrate the legion. It's the same with most of the auxiliary cohorts. Some of them have only just arrived here.'

'There is one cohort that is ready to move,' Longinus responded. 'The Second Illyrian. Is that not so, Prefect?'

Macro started and then leaned forward a little as he nodded. 'My lads could be on the road to Palmyra within the hour, sir. We could reach Palmyra in ten days if we went flat out.'

'Good. Then that's what we'll do,' Longinus decided. 'The Second Illyrian will make for Palmyra immediately while the rest of the army prepares to march. The other legions will follow us the moment they are ready to move.'

'That's all very well, sir,' said Cato,'but what exactly is the Second Illyrian supposed to do when it reaches Palmyra? We'll be outnumbered, and the chances are that the rebels will hold the city walls. How are we going to help those trapped in the citadel?'

'Your job is to reinforce them, Centurion. Help Vabathus hold out until the main force arrives.'

'But, sir, even if we can gain entrance to the city, we'll have to cut our way through hostile streets to the citadel.'

'Yes, I imagine so.'

Cato looked at the governor helplessly. Clearly the man had no idea what he was asking of the Second Illyrian.

Macro came to his support. 'The lad's right, sir. It can't be done. Not by one cohort.'

Longinus smiled.'Which is why I'm not just sending the Second Illyrian. I'm not a fool, Macro. I know how difficult a task this is. I'll not send anyone on a suicide mission. That would not look good back in Rome. So, in addition to the Second Illyrian I'm sending a cohort of the Tenth Legion, together with their cavalry scouts. Since Centurion Castor has been killed on detached duty his cohort needs a new commander. I've decided that you're the best man for the job.You will also command the relief force.'

'And who will lead the Second Illyrian?' asked Macro.

Longinus gestured towards Cato. 'Your adjutant. He will be acting prefect until the crisis is over.'

'Him?' Amatius raised his eyebrows. 'But he's too young. Too inexperienced. Let Macro remain in command of his auxiliaries, sir, and I'll find an officer from within the legion to replace Centurion Castor.'

'No, I've made my decision. Macro is the best man available. Besides, there's no time to debate the issue. Castor's cohort and the Second Illyrian are to set off at once. Those are my orders, gentlemen. My clerks will give you your instructions before you leave the camp, Macro. The rest of you will have your orders as soon as they are drafted. Dismissed.'

'What the hell do you make of all that?' Macro jerked his thumb back in the direction of the governor's house as he and Cato strode down the street. 'Sending an advance column to save the king of Palmyra's arse is about as stupid an idea as I have ever heard.'