The Eagle In the Sand

Miriam wiped her eyes on the sleeve of her cloak and looked up.'With all my heart, no. This is our home.There is nowhere else for us to go. We will stay, and either we will be spared, or we will be obliterated. But I thank you for the offer.'

Cato nodded. 'I have to leave.' He eased himself to his feet and looked down into her eyes. 'Good luck, Miriam. May your god protect you and your people.'

She looked up into the sky and shut her eyes. 'Thy will be done…'

'Pardon?'

She smiled. 'Just something my son used to say.'

'Oh.'

'Farewell, Centurion. I hope I see you again.'

Cato turned away and strode back into the village to rejoin his men, and once he had disappeared between the buildings Miriam gave full vent to her tears with a low shuddering moan.

Bannus and his Parthian allies had not deployed any scouts to mask their movements. Instead they marched directly towards the fort, in full view of Cato and his men. Cato smiled grimly to himself. If Bannus was trying to cow them with the size of his force, then he was succeeding admirably. By Cato's estimate, they were confronted by over three thousand men, perhaps five hundred of them mounted, and most of those would be Parthians, deadly with bow and arrow and skilled swordsmen if it came to a hand-to-hand fight.The enemy column had been easy to locate under the dense cloud of dust that rose up in its wake. At the rear of the column was a small baggage train, with a handful of carts just visible in the dusty haze, although it was impossible to determine what they were carrying. The column advanced at a measured pace, not hurrying to battle, but confident that it could traverse the land with impunity.

As soon as he had estimated their number, and noted the extent of their equipment and weapons, Cato quickly etched the information into the wax on a tablet he took from his saddle bag and called one of his men over.

'Take this back to the prefect. Let him know that at the time of this report the enemy were about twenty miles from the fort.At their current pace they should not arrive before tomorrow evening. Got that?'

'Yes, sir.'

'Then go.'

As the man galloped away, kicking up a thin trail of dust behind him, Cato saw some of the outriders of the enemy column turn and gesture towards the small party of Romans, but no one rode out to chase them away and for the rest of the day they rode ahead of Bannus and his men, being sure to give themselves plenty of room to escape any sudden forays by the Parthian cavalry. As night fell, the enemy column halted. They managed to find enough fuel for only a small number of fires, since firewood was scarce in the barren landscape. Cato did not permit his men to light a fire. It would be dangerous to advertise their presence so openly. Instead, he waited until it was dark, and then moved position across the front of the enemy's line of advance, to the other flank, in case Bannus decided to try to surprise the Roman scouts who had been scrutinising his movements. Then, after his men had dismounted, and a watch had been set, Cato rolled into his blanket and tried to find a comfortable patch of ground to sleep on as the temperature dropped to a freezing chill.

At first light the next day, Macro rode out of the fort to inspect the work his men had carried out. The holes that they had been digging the previous afternoon had been completed and presented a dangerous obstacle to charging cavalry. Behind the pits was the second line of defence. The men had sown a broad perimeter with the four-pointed iron caltrops that had been brought out from the cohort's stores.The spikes would pierce the hooves of any horse, or the boots or bare feet of any attacker who plunged heedlessly towards the Roman line, crippling them instantly. Once past the second line of defence only the ramparts of the fort would stand in their way. Macro offered a quick prayer to Fortuna and Mars asking that the enemy would not have brought many assault ladders or battering rams with them. If they had then it was a only a matter of time before the superiority of their numbers decided the result of the coming battle.

The air was still chilly and Macro shivered as he completed his inspection and headed back towards the fort. As he neared the gate he noticed a rider approaching from the north and reined in, straining his eyes to try to identify the man. No Roman, to be sure, with the swath of cloth covering his body and head. Macro's spare hand shifted to the handle of his sword as he twitched the reins and turned his mount towards the approaching rider. Evidently the sentries had at last seen the man as well, and boots thudded along the rampart as the duty century turned out. Macro frowned at the sloppy watch-keeping. The sentries should have spotted the rider long before Macro. Someone was going to be on a charge for that, Macro decided.

Suddenly the rider was waving his hand at Macro as if in greeting, and a moment later he pulled aside his veil and shouted. 'Centurion! It's me! Symeon!'

Macro relaxed his sword arm and let out his breath in a sigh of relief. He raised his hand and returned Symeon's greeting, and urged his horse forward towards the approaching guide, as Symeon carefully picked his way through the defences.

'You've chosen a poor time to visit us,' Macro said ruefully.

'Is there ever a good time?' Symeon laughed then gestured towards the men busy setting up the caltrops. 'Come, Centurion, tell me: why have you laid out all these trinkets around your fort?'

'Bannus is coming.We expect him to arrive before the walls by nightfall.'

Symeon sucked in his breath. 'How could he have grown so strong, so quickly?'

'He's found some new friends. The Parthians have sent him help.'

'Parthians?' Symeon's expression darkened. 'Bannus is a fool. What does he imagine Parthia will do if Rome is ever forced from this region? He is blinded by his hatred of the Kittim. Judaea, Syria and Nabataea would all fall to Parthia.' He grasped Macro's shoulder. 'We must stop Bannus! Right here!'

'Easier said than done,' Macro said wearily.'He's got us outnumbered. The Governor of Syria has abandoned us. I'm not sure we can hold Bannus off.' Macro paused as a thought occurred to him.A desperate thought, to be sure. 'Not unless we get help. How soon could you ride to Petra?'

'I could leave at once, Centurion. It's two days' hard ride. Why?'

Macro smiled. 'I need to call in a debt.'

07 The Eagle In the Sand

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

'Well, there they are.' Macro scratched his chin as he squinted into the distance. The sun was low in the sky and his eyes watered as he made out the enemy. Two miles away a large party of horsemen were riding over a fold in the land. They reined in and seemed to be observing the fort in turn. 'They won't be able to do anything tonight.They'll make camp, post pickets and get a good night's rest.'

'That sounds like wishful thinking, sir,' Cato responded quietly. 'If I'm any judge of the situation I'd say that Bannus will want to crush us as swiftly as possible.'

'And why's that?'

'As far as he's aware, we would have sent for help the moment we knew that he was making for the fort. If he's going to rouse the rest of the province then he'll need to offer them proof that Rome can be beaten. If he has to give up the attempt on Bushir, then I think his support will melt away quickly enough.'

'But the chances are that there won't be any help coming. Not from Longinus at least.'

'Yes, but Bannus doesn't know that, sir. As far as he's concerned, he's got six or seven days before a relief column turns up. That means he's going to have to move fast to take the fort.' Cato thought for a moment and continued. 'He'll be counting on the threat from Parthia to stop Longinus sending any overwhelming force in response to the situation here. Bannus will hope that with Bushir in his hands he can attract enough recruits to counter any troops that Longinus eventually sends his way.'

Macro looked at Cato. 'How can you know all that?'