'Minucius?' Vespasian raised his sword.'Get them.'
The three men abruptly turned round and ran back through the archway, as Vespasian and the marines ran after them. But Minucius and the two pirates were not weighed down by armour and had disappeared from sight as Vespasian and the first of his men burst through the archway. Macro and Cato had just entered the courtyard beyond when the catapult on the watchtower took its shot. The bolt slammed into the masonry above the arch and dislodged a shower of debris on to Macro and Cato. They emerged, covered in grit and coughing, and ran over to the base of the tower.
Vespasian glanced round the courtyard and then turned to Secundus.'Where could they have gone? Is there another way out of here?'
'No, sir. They have to be down in the storerooms, or they're in the watchtower.'
'Right…' Vespasian glanced round at his men and pointed to the entrance to the storerooms beside the archway. 'First section! Over there. Search them thoroughly!'
Six marines peeled off and scurried across the courtyard and through the entrance, clattering down the steps into the gloom. The prefect turned back to Secundus.
'How do we get into the watchtower?'
'Round the side, sir. There's a door. Then up the stairs and turn left.'
Vespasian led the others to the corner of the tower, peered round, then beckoned to his men. When they were gathered around the door he lifted the latch and threw the door back, ready to attack anyone on the other side, but the stairwell was empty and he motioned for the marines to go in and climb the stairs. Only four men of the second section were left. Before they were halfway up the stairs Cato heard the pounding of footsteps from inside the building as the crew of the catapult charged towards the marines.
He pressed through the doorway close behind Macro and Vespasian, and glancing up, he blinked at the bright light pouring through an open window at the top of the stairs. A figure flickered into view, wielding a light curved blade. It flashed in the light and there was a grunt as the first of the marines was cut down. The man immediately behind him thrust his comrade's body to one side, raised his shield, sprang up the last three steps and slammed into the pirate at the top of the stairs. The man was knocked off balance, staggered backwards towards the window frame and toppled over with a piercing scream. Before the marine could recover, a second pirate thrust a spear into his side, punching through his chain mail and into his vitals. He dropped on the landing, releasing his sword and shield, and groped for the shaft of the weapon that had mortally injured him.
Down on the stairs, Vespasian thrust the back of the man ahead of him. 'Get up there! Move! Or we're dead!'
The two marines ducked low behind their shields as they climbed to the landing and turned into the corridor. Vespasian and the others hurried up the stairs behind them, hearts pounding. As he turned the corner Cato could see a long, wide corridor that was lit by shafts of light angling in through the open shutters of the windows along the side of the tower. At the far end was another staircase, leading up to the roof. In between were several pirates, hacking and slashing at the marines' shields as they forced their way along the corridor.
'Push 'em back!' Macro shouted, and charged past the prefect and Secundus to add his weight to the marines. The plastered walls echoed and magnified the scrape of blade against blade and the thuds of blows that found only the hard surface of a shield. In the confined space the short swords of the Romans proved their worth, as the first two pirates were quickly cut down and the marines rushed over their bodies to take on the surviving pirates.
A door opened down the corridor, beyond the pirates, and Minucius stepped into the corridor. He clutched a leather bag to his chest and took one despairing look at the men fighting in the corridor before he ran for the tower staircase.
'That bastard's mine!' Macro shouted as he threw his sword arm out and caught one of the pirates in the throat. The man slipped down, a hand clamped to his neck in a futile attempt to staunch the jets of blood pumping from his severed blood vessels. But, even as he slid to the floor, he thrust his sword up deep into the groin of Secundus. With an agonised groan the Roman agent slumped down on top of the pirate, driving the blade in even deeper. He fell back against the wall open-mouthed. Vespasian made to step into the gap, but Cato held his arm back.
'No, sir! Let me!'
Before the prefect could protest, Cato pushed past, thrust his shield out and ran at the pirate immediately in front of him. There was no technique to it. He just crashed into the man, and thrust his blade out, felt the jar of the impact down his forearm, twisted the handle and wrenched it back. The pirate fell away with a grunt and went down on to the floorboards. His sword clattered at his side and he raised an arm, appealing for mercy. Behind him the remaining pirates backed away from the Romans, threw down their weapons and raised their arms.
Vespasian patted the shoulder of the last marine. 'You watch them! Macro!'
'Sir?'
'Go after Minucius.'
'My pleasure.' Macro thrust the pirates to the side, ran to the far staircase and thundered up the wooden steps and out of sight.
'Cato, with me.' Vespasian held his sword ready and approached the doorway from which Minucius had emerged moments earlier. Cato looked over the prefect's shoulder and saw a large room beyond. In the furthest corner, at the end of a large table, stood Telemachus and his son. At the feet of Ajax kneeled tribune Vitellius, his wrists bound, his head yanked to one side so that his throat was exposed to the slim curved blade in Ajax's hand.
Vespasian entered the room slowly, with Cato at his side.
'Stop there!' Telemachus called out.'One step closer and your tribune dies.'
Cato glanced at Vespasian and saw a flicker of a smile before the prefect replied, 'I suppose you want to try and strike a bargain.'
Telemachus nodded. 'The life of your tribune for the lives of my son and me.'
'Really? I think you must be mistaking me for someone who gives a shit about the tribune.'
Telemachus frowned. 'I'm telling you, I'll not hesitate to have him killed.'
'Be my guest. He's a traitor.'
For a moment all was still, as Telemachus narrowed his eyes and tried to work out if the prefect was bluffing him. Then he placed a hand on his son's shoulder.
'Bleed him a little.'
With a glint of a smile Ajax nicked the tribune's neck and Vitellius yelped as a thin crimson trickle of blood rolled down his throat.
'Next time, he dies,' Telemachus said firmly.
Vespasian lowered his shield and leaned on the rim. 'Go on then. Kill him.'
The tribune glanced at Vespasian in horror and begged in a strangled gasp, 'For pity's sake…'
Vespasian gave a little shrug. 'Sorry, Tribune. Wish I could help you out. But you know the policy. No negotiating with pirates. Besides, I've not come here to save your life. I've come for the same thing you were after.'
Vitellius stared back and whispered. 'You bastard…'
Then Telemachus realised that the prefect was prepared to see Vitellius die. He snatched up a flask of lamp oil from the table and hurled it into the fire burning in the grate. The flask shattered amid a whirl of sparks, there was brief hiss and then the flames eagerly fed on the oil and roared up. While the others reeled back from the wave of heat that leaped across the room Telemachus grabbed a small black box, opened it, snatched up the scrolls inside and took three quick strides towards the flames, holding the scrolls out. He turned to Vespasian.
'Very well then! Our lives for these scrolls!'
Vespasian took a step forward. Telemachus leaned towards the flames. 'I can't hold these for long, Roman! The deal is our lives for the scrolls. You let us go. Your word on it now, or the scrolls burn!'