Cato did as he was told as the chamberlain continued through into the main hall and shut the door behind him. For a while there was silence and Cato fretted furiously at the delay, knowing that Macro and the others were outside the city anxiously waiting for his signal.Then he heard voices inside, a conversation that he could not quite make out.The door opened and the chamberlain beckoned to him.
'Inside.'
Cato did his best not to be even further irritated by the man's curt manner, and strode through into the hall. It was a large square chamber. Not by any means the audience chamber of a rich and powerful king, but then this was not Vabathus' palace, only his refuge. The walls were plain and high, and the floor unostentatiously paved, as the earlier corridor had been. A number of chairs had been arranged in a semicircle at the far end of the hall and two men were already seated there. The chamberlain led Cato to the open space in front of the men and then took his seat to one side. A large, overweight man who looked to be in his late fifties with grey hair and a tired expression sat in the largest chair. He wore a plain white tunic and sandals, and a cloak hung over his shoulders.The other man wore a tunic with a broad red stripe running down the middle. He was younger, no more than forty, and wiry, with the haughty bearing of a Roman aristocrat, and Cato knew at once that he must be the ambassador, Lucius Sempronius.
Cato stood to attention as Sempronius cleared his throat and began to speak.
'You have a message for us?'
'For the king, yes.'
Sempronius smiled.'Of course, for the king. Let me have it.'
Cato paused, glancing towards Vabathus, waiting for any sign of approval, but Vabathus just stared back blankly and so Cato took the waxed slate from his haversack and walked over to give it to the Roman ambassador. 'From Prince Balthus, and my commander, Centurion Macro of the Tenth Legion.'
'And you are?'
'Quintus Licinius Cato, sir. Acting prefect of the Second Illyrian cohort.'
Sempronius weighed him up.'Acting prefect, eh? Rather young for such a responsibility, I would say,' he added with a touch of suspicion in his tone.
'The governor was forced to send the two units he had ready, sir,' Cato explained with all the patience he could muster. 'Centurion Macro was seconded to the Tenth Legion from the Second Illyrian, for the duration of the present emergency. I was his adjutant and second-in-command. '
'I see.Well, needs must, I suppose.' Sempronius pursed his lips briefly. 'Obviously my message got through to Longinus. I assume he is hot on the heels of your two cohorts with the rest of his army?'
'I have no idea, sir. He said he would come as soon as possible. In the meantime, my cohort and that of Centurion Macro were sent ahead to bolster the garrison here. We joined forces with Prince Balthus and his men. They're approaching the eastern gate even as I speak, and-'
'Balthus?'The king stirred.'What good will that fool do? I have no use for a drunkard who spends his life hunting and whoring. I'll have nothing to do with him. Send him away.' He looked through Cato for a moment and continued quietly, 'Of all my sons, why couldn't it have been Balthus who betrayed me? I would have shed no tears over that wastrel…'
The king frowned and lowered his head, staring at his feet. Cato glanced towards the ambassador for a cue on how to respond but Sempronius shook his head. There was a brief silence before Sempronius coughed and nodded to Cato. 'Please continue.'
Given the king's previous reaction Cato decided not to mention his son again. 'My superiors have asked me to request the garrison of the citadel to make a diversionary attack to draw forces away from the eastern gate.We have to do it as soon as possible if they are to stand any chance of breaking through to us, sir. They will be watching for my signal. A beacon on the highest tower of the citadel.' Cato switched to Latin, lowered his voice and continued urgently. 'Sir, I beg you. Use whatever influence you have here to begin the feint. Unless Centurion Macro can fight his way through the city he will be cut to pieces outside the walls of Palmyra.'
Sempronius nodded and spoke calmly. 'I will see to it that the orders are given, Prefect Cato.You have my word.' The ambassador switched back into Greek and turned to the chamberlain, who had been sitting in silence during the exchanges.
'Thermon, my friend, you heard it all. You must summon the commander of the garrison. The attack must begin as soon as possible. On the king's orders, understand? '
The chamberlain nodded, and turned to the king. 'Your majesty?'
'What?' Vabathus looked up wearily and saw that they were waiting for his response. He waved a hand flaccidly. 'Do as you wish.'
The chamberlain bowed and quickly backed out of the room as Sempronius beckoned to Cato.
'Prefect, I understand you have one of the prince's slaves with you.'
'Yes, sir.'
'Have him take you to the gate tower. There is a signal station there. You may light your beacon the moment the garrison begins its attack. Then,' he nodded to Cato's bloodied hand, 'you'd better get that seen to.'
08 Centurion
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
'There's the signal!' Balthus rose quickly to his feet and stared towards the tower.
'Hmmm?' Macro mumbled, as he stirred from the spot where he had been resting. He had very nearly committed the unforgivable sin of falling asleep on duty. What the hell had come over him? Macro briefly discounted the lost sleep of the last days of the march from Antioch. He had marched and fought in more difficult campaigns before without letting exhaustion get the better of him. Perhaps it was just age, he mused wearily as he scrambled to his feet and stood beside the prince. Balthus pointed over the wall and the sprawl of the city towards the citadel. Above the torches that flickered along the ramparts was a brighter blaze that flared with greater intensity even as Macro picked it out.
'Are you sure that's the one?' asked Macro.
'I'm certain of it.'
'Then let's get moving.' Macro turned round to the officers who had been sitting on the ground, but now approached in response to Balthus' excited cry. Macro drew himself up to his full height, and rubbed his buttocks where they had grown numb as he sat waiting.
'Gentlemen, this is going to be swift and bloody. You have your orders; make sure you follow them precisely. I don't want any confusion when the attack goes in. Get the lads up and let's get moving.'
He exchanged a salute with his officers and returned to the side of Prince Balthus. 'We'll follow your men the moment you begin the attack. Good luck… sir.'
Balthus grinned as he patted Macro on the shoulder. 'Luck has never been my problem, Roman, so you can have my share of it tonight.'
With a swirl of his robes, Balthus turned and ran to his horse, snatched the reins from the hand of the auxiliary who was holding it ready, and threw himself up into the saddle. In the darkness behind him the rest of his retinue mounted and when Balthus saw that they were ready he drew his curved blade and raised it above his head, calling out a command to get their attention. He paused a moment and then swept his sword towards the city gate with a strident shout. With a chorus of cries his men urged their mounts into a gallop and a dark tide of horsemen surged out of the desert night towards the eastern gate of Palmyra.
The moment the charge began Macro filled his lungs and bellowed the order for his two cohorts to advance. As they followed the horsemen at a steady trot Macro saw fire arrows arc down from the distant ramparts of the citadel and realised that the diversionary attack was under way. His heart was lifted by the knowledge that Cato had succeeded in getting through. Macro and his men had concealed themselves no more than a quarter of a mile from the eastern gate in order to reach it before the enemy could react, but he knew that the plan would only work if Balthus and his men moved quickly.