The Eagles Prophecy

'Theory?' Cato turned towards him sharply. 'What do you mean? This can't be the first time you've sailed at night?'

'Of course not, sir.' Albinus sounded aggrieved. 'It's part of the basic drill. It's just that most ships tend to hug the shore as much as possible and find a safe anchorage at the end of each day. I've had the Spartan out overnight, but never as part of a fleet.'

'Never?' Cato was incredulous.

'Never.' Albinus smiled. 'Should be an interesting experience.'

Cato looked at the trierarch as if he were quite mad. As the day wore on a light northerly breeze stirred the surface of the sea and the flagship signalled the rest of the warships to ship oars and make sail. The soft rush and hiss of the sea passing alongside seemed hushed and soothing after the monotonous creak and splash of the oars, and Cato stood to one side as Albinus ordered his crew to trim the sail to his satisfaction. Then he glanced at the flagship, a few hundred feet ahead.

'First mate!'

'Sir?'

'Make sure you maintain our station.'

The Spartan, being a lighter vessel, was inclined to sail faster than the lumbering quinquireme and the mate had to frequently order the men at the sheets to spill the wind from the rectangular sail to prevent the ship closing on the Horus and the other ships ahead.

As dusk gathered around the fleet, and sky and sea merged into one gloomy mass, one of the crewmen brought a lantern up from below deck, a heavy bronze affair with a glass pane. The oil lamp inside had already been lit and the dull flame reflected brightly off the highly polished tin mirror at the back of the lantern. An iron hook protruded from the sternpost and the crewman offered the lamp up and slipped the handle over the hook. The lantern swayed gently with the easy motion of the vessel, and as Cato watched, more lights winked into being in the ships ahead of the Spartan. It reminded him of the torchlight processions held by the followers of Mithras he had seen occasionally in the camp of the Second Legion.

'Deck there! Sail sighted!'

Cato looked up at the masthead where a figure sat astride the yard with one arm anchored on the mast. The other arm was pointing out to the side of the fleet. At once all eyes on the deck followed the direction indicated and Cato squinted into the shadows, and saw nothing.

'What d'you see?' Albinus called to the lookout.

'A lateen sail, sir. Just been raised. No more than two miles off.'

'Two miles…' Albinus started in alarm. 'Can you make it out?'

The last of the light was failing fast and there was a pause before the lookout called down his reply. 'She's hauled her wind and gone about. Must have seen us, sir… I can't see her any more.'

'Shit,' Albinus muttered.

'Do you think that was a pirate vessel?' Cato asked.

'Most likely, sir. If she saw us, the chances are she would have seen some of the other warships and realised it's the fleet. If that was a merchant ship then there's no reason to turn and run. I'd lay good money on her being a pirate.'

Cato glanced in the direction the lookout had pointed.'I don't suppose they fancied their chances against a force our size.'

Albinus laughed. 'Not even your cockiest pirate would be foolish enough to do that.'

Cato blushed, angry with himself for sounding like such a raw recruit. He looked round and saw Minucius shaking his head. The veteran had obviously overheard the remark and lowered his opinion of Cato even further.

'Don't worry, Centurion,' Albinus continued.'You're safe for the moment. As long as the enemy doesn't know we've got a landsman like Vitellius running the show.'

Cato knew well enough that the lack of faith in inexperienced officers extended to him as much as the prefect, and he tightened his lips to prevent any bad-tempered response.

'What will he do then?'

'He'll report back to Telemachus. By the time that bastard gets the message we'll be ashore and getting ready to hunt him down.'

'What if that ship was looking for us?'

'No.' Albinus shook his head. 'Had to be a chance encounter. They don't know we're coming.'

'What if they did know?' Cato's mind raced ahead as he thought through the implications.'What if he's put to sea to intercept us?'

'Now you're just jumping at shadows, sir,' Albinus said with a trace of irritation. 'I'm telling you, they don't know. How can they, with all the security the prefect slapped on this operation? Even if they did know, you've seen our ships. You've even seen some of his, come to that. You know he can't take us on.' Albinus glanced round to make sure that none of his men could hear his next words.'Now do keep a lid on that kind of scaremongering, sir. Doesn't do my lads any good to see officers losing their heads at the first sight of a strange sail. Won't do your men much good either.'

'All right.' Cato nodded. 'It won't happen again.'

'That would be for the best, sir. Now, if you don't mind, it's going to be a long night. I need to look after my ship.'

'Yes. Yes, of course.'

Albinus saluted and turned away, padding barefoot along the deck towards the bows. Cato watched him disappear into the dark mass of figures crowded in front of the mast, and then clenched his hand into a fist and smacked it against his thigh. This was not the first time he had been made to feel like an ignorant dilettante. Yet, no matter how often he determined not to let his lack of experience and expertise show, he always seemed to get caught out, and be left feeling deficient. A deficiency that he felt compelled to wipe out, whatever the cost.

The night passed slowly. For Cato the experience was completely unnerving. All around, the noises of the sea sounded alarmingly close, as if it would rise up and engulf the ship at any moment. Cato was tormented by nightmarish images of himself struggling to stay afloat, alone and forsaken in the heaving immensity of the dark ocean, until at last his strength gave out and he slipped beneath the surface into a suffocating inky black oblivion.

There was no possibility of sleep while his mind was consumed by such fears and he looked on the still forms of the marines in his century in frank admiration and envy. For a while he paced round the deck, gazing at the winking stern lights of the surrounding fleet. Occasionally voices carried across the surface of the water, sounding flat and indistinct and at times inhuman so that he stared hard into the darkness and wondered if the myths of sea monsters might not have some kernel of truth in them after all.

'Quiet night, sir.'

Cato started and turned to see a dark figure a short distance along the ship's side. He recognised the voice readily enough and nodded a greeting.

'Yes, Optio. Quiet enough, I suppose.'

He sensed the amusement in Optio Felix, even before the other man continued, 'You'll get used to it, sir. Give yourself a few months and the sea will seem like a second home.'

'I sincerely doubt it,' Cato replied before he could stop himself. He had known his optio for a matter of days and should not take him into any kind of confidence, let alone any admission of fear or weakness. He cleared his throat and eased himself up from his elbows so that his back was straight and his hands gripped the wooden rail tightly. He spoke in a nonchalant tone. 'It's an interesting enough experience, but I imagine it becomes boring soon enough.'

'Boring?' The optio was surprised. 'There's nothing boring about the sea. She's a strange creature, sir. Never quite still. And she's as fickle as a drunken bitch. Just when you think you know her, and begin to take her for granted, she'll hit you with the full force of her fury… She's not boring, sir. She's terrifying, and you'd do well to respect her.'

Cato stared at the shrouded features of his optio, and silently cursed the man for adding to the sum of his fears.

'That's, er, an interesting perspective, Felix. I'll bear it in mind. Thank you.'