The Eagles Prophecy

'You're going to die, Roman.'

Vitellius gave a light laugh. 'Friend, we're all going to die. Some just get to die sooner than others. The timing is all that matters in life. Now, you know the questions. I want the answers.'

'Fuck you!' Ajax jerked his head up and spat in the prefect's face.

Vitellius instinctively recoiled, then wiped the bloody spittle off his cheek with the back of his hand. He smiled. 'No, fuck you, you pirate scum.' He nodded at the interrogator. 'Back to work, Trebius. Make it really hurt this time.'

'Yes, sir.' The interrogator turned to his assistant. 'Pass us the cutters…'

Ajax held out for the rest of the afternoon and even Macro was moved to admiration by the young man's courage. Ajax had screamed when the interrogator cut off his little finger, and then gouged out several chunks of flesh, but not once had he begged for it to end, or answered the questions Vitellius put to him. Cato felt more and more sick as the torture dragged out, through one hour, then the next. Just when he felt he must object and try to put an end to this pointless mutilation, the pirate finally gave in, sobbing in terror and agony, as he blurted out a name.

'Vectis terra…' he whispered.

'What's that?' Vitellius leaned closer, straining his ears to catch the word. 'Speak up!'

'Vectis terra…my father's at Vectis terra.'

There was a sudden stillness in the tent as the Romans exchanged a look of surprise. Cato shook his head, angry with himself for missing the now obvious connection between Telemachus and Ajax. Of course their features were similar. And why would so young a man be so highly placed amongst the pirates, unless he had a blood connection with their leader?

Vitellius was the first to speak. 'Now that is interesting. So you are his son.'

Ajax did not respond, but hung his head down and refused to meet the gaze of his captors.

'Well then!' Vitellius could not restrain his delight at the discovery. 'I'm sure you will be of even greater use to us now, Ajax. I wonder… I wonder just how far your father would go for your safe return.'

Ajax spat blood on to the floor. 'I'd rather die!'

'Of course you would. But would he rather you died? That's the question.' Vitellius crossed to the side of the tent, unravelled a map and ran a finger up the dark lines that marked the coastline until he found the place. 'Vectis terra, you say… Hmm, I don't think so. That's too far off the trade routes. Your ships would have to sail for days before they reached their hunting grounds.' He turned round and chuckled. 'Nice try, young Ajax. I knew you'd lie first time. Now we'll have the truth, if you please.'

The prisoner hung his head in despair as the prefect crossed back to him.

'Come now, Ajax. We will make you tell us the truth in the end, however long it takes. The only question you must ask yourself is how much pain you want to endure before you give us the truth. If you cooperate with us, then I give you my word you will live. If you persist in this foolish and pointless attempt to resist, then there will be torment, heaped upon torment, until you do tell us the truth. Then there will only be death.'

Vitellius reached down and lifted the pirate's chin. 'So you see, young man, the only sensible thing to do is accept that you will tell us what we need to know. Now, or later, it doesn't matter which. But you will tell us… Trebius!'

'Yes, sir!'

'Are you ready?'

'Yes, sir.'

'Back to work then.'

Ajax stared in horror at the interrogator. Then he clenched his eyes tightly shut for a moment and whispered, 'Petrapylae…'

Vitellius smiled and patted him on the head. 'Good lad.'

The prefect returned to the map and began to scan it closely. After a while he straightened up and turned back to his prisoner with an angry expression. 'There's no such place. Now tell me the truth, or-'

Cato stepped between them. 'Sir, the chart's one of ours.'

Vitellius glared at him 'So?'

'His first tongue is Greek. Petrapylae – the Gates of Rock, or something like that. Can I see the chart, sir?'

Vitellius waved a hand. 'Be my guest.'

Cato flattened out the map and glanced up the coast from their present position. Then he tapped his finger on the parchment. 'Here. This looks like it. The Gates of Stone.'

'Let me see that!' Vitellius hurried over, looked at the point Cato indicated, and nodded as a smile formed on his lips. 'That must be it.'

'Makes sense, sir. It's off the trade routes. There's an abandoned Greek colony there; mountains on all sides. The entrance looks narrow enough to defend well.' He shrugged. 'Of course there's plenty of other equally possible sites on this stretch of coast.'

Vitellius looked over his shoulder.'Supposing he's lying?'

'Then we keep him alive until we've reconnoitred the area, sir. If he's trying to mislead us we can always interrogate him again.'

'True. But there's one more thing.' Vitellius went back over to Ajax.'The scrolls. Are they kept there?'

There was a pause, then Ajax nodded. Vitellius stared at the prisoner for a moment before turning his gaze towards Cato and Macro. 'You believe him?'

Macro shrugged. 'Seems like the most obvious place to keep 'em, sir. We're having a hard enough time finding their ships, and Telemachus will want them somewhere he can keep an eye on them and protect them. If they're as valuable as people think.'

'Valuable?' Vitellius sniffed. 'They're more than that, Centurion. In fact, they're invaluable.'

Before either of the centurions could probe any further, the tent flap lifted and one of the prefect's bodyguards thrust his head into the tent. His eyebrows rose slightly at the sight of the battered prisoner.

'What is it?' Vitellius snapped.

'Begging your pardon, sir, but there's a boat heading in from the sea.'

'A boat? What kind of boat?'

'Looks like some kind of yacht sir. She's small but she's fast.'

'Heading this way, you say?'

'Yes, sir. Straight for us.'

Vitellius looked at Ajax for a moment before making a decision. 'He'll keep. Cato, Macro, pass the word to the senior duty officer. He's to have two centuries stand to. And alert the artillery batteries. I want them ready to fire, if necessary, the moment the boat's in range. I'll join you shortly.'

They saluted and ducked out of the tent. Vitellius turned to the interrogator.'Right then, just a few last questions…'

Outside the headquarters tent Cato and Macro had a clear view down the slope leading to the rampart and the beach beyond. The sun was brassy and bright and they had to shade their eyes and squint as they stared out to sea. Far out, little more than a vague silhouette, they could see the boat, lateen sail out to one side as it ran before the wind. They strode down to the shore and relayed the prefect's order before turning their attention back to the approaching boat.

'Now who the hell's that?' asked Macro.

Cato shrugged. 'No idea.'

'Whoever it is seems to be in a tearing hurry to get here. Imperial courier, or something?' Macro wondered aloud.

As they watched Cato felt the blood chill in his veins as he recalled the dispatch he had sent to Rome. There was a crunch of shingle and Cato suddenly sensed the eyes of the prefect falling on him and made himself stand quite still and resist the temptation to turn towards Vitellius. Instead he concentrated on the new arrival, until his eye was drawn to a distant movement on the promontory above the bay. A line of crosses stood dark against the western sky. On each one hung a tiny figure. Even as he watched, the last cross was raised into place, a man writhing on its wooden arms.

Cato suppressed a shudder of fear. If Vitellius discovered that Cato had opened his dispatch, then there was a good chance that he would find himself sharing the fate of the pirates nailed to the crosses hanging above the bay.

06 The Eagles Prophecy

CHAPTER THIRTY

The small ship held its course and sailed into the bay as the sun dipped down towards the horizon. From the shore Cato could make out a cluster of figures on the deck. The slanted light illuminated red cloaks and glinted off polished armour.