The Eagles Prophecy

Vespasian clenched his fingers on the shield trim. 'I can't let you go.'

'Then you lose the scrolls.' Telemachus winced as the heat started to burn his hand. 'Last chance, Roman.'

Cato looked from man to man, and saw that each was fixed on his course. For an instant he could not believe that Vespasian would be so reckless. But then the realisation hit him. If the prefect let the scrolls burn, and let Vitellius be killed, it would be possible to place the blame at Vitellius' feet. He had the tribune's letter stating his plans, after all. Cato would be dead in any case, as soon as Narcissus knew that the scrolls had been destroyed. No doubt Macro would share the same fate…

Cato stepped forward. 'Wait.'

Telemachus and Vespasian turned towards him as Cato quickly continued, 'The scrolls in exchange for your son's life.'

'I'll make no such deal!' Vespasian said through clenched teeth.

'Sir! It's the only way you'll get the scrolls, and Telemachus…'

'My son…' Telemachus wondered aloud, then looked sidelong at Ajax, and Cato knew he had been right. That was the pirate leader's weak spot: his love for his son. Telemachus' gaze flickered back towards Vespasian.

'My son for the scrolls?'

Vespasian stared back, his expression cold and merciless. Ajax turned to his father.

'No! I will not allow it! Father, you can't do this!'

'Be quiet!' Telemachus snapped. 'Well, Roman?' Vespasian looked at the scrolls for an instant and then nodded slowly.

'Your word, Roman! Give me your word!'

'You have my word…'

'Ahhh!' Telemachus let out a cry of pain as he snatched his hands back from the flames and threw the scrolls on to the floor.

'Get those!' Vespasian barked and Cato hurried forward and gathered the scrolls, and then backed away, cradling them in his arms.

Telemachus gestured to his son. 'Let the tribune go. Cut him free.'

Ajax looked at his father in numbed horror, the blade trembling in his hand. Then he looked down at Vitellius with an expression of bitter hatred. For an instant Cato was certain he was going to cut the tribune's throat…then he leaned forward, reached down and sawed through the ropes around Vitellius' wrists. As soon as the bonds parted Vitellius scrambled away from the pirate towards the other Romans. Once he reached a safe distance he rose stiffly to his feet, breathing heavily as he faced Vespasian.

'As long as I live,' he said softly. 'I'll not forget.'

'Nor will I.' Vespasian smiled faintly. 'A lost opportunity, to be sure.'

Cato kept his eyes from the two aristocrats. There was an extremely dangerous tension in the room and he fervently wanted to remain as unobtrusive as possible. As Cato clutched the scrolls to his chest he glanced at the two pirates. After a moment's hesitation Telemachus stepped over to his son and gently placed an arm about his shoulders. Ajax stared at him, wounded and despairing, and his eyes glistened with tears, before he dropped his knife and held his father as all the grief of defeat, all the torment he had suffered at Vitellius' hands, and the terrible sacrifice of his father finally overwhelmed him. With an animal groan, his chest heaved and he poured his sorrow into the folds of cloth on his father's shoulder.

As Macro emerged on to the roof he moved warily, glancing around the doorway before he sprang through it and quickly turned round, sword poised to strike at the first sign of danger. But there was only one other person on the roof of the watchtower. From the far corner Minucius smiled uncertainly at him.

'Macro. I'd hoped it would be you.'

'Really?' Macro kept his sword up and slowly approached the traitor.

'Oh yes! You see, there isn't much time.'

'Wrong.' Macro shook his head.'You've run out of time, Minucius. You're dead meat.'

'Wait!' Minucius raised a hand. His fist was clenched about the cords from which hung a leather bag. 'There's a fortune in here! Precious stones, some gold. It's yours!'

'Mine?'

'If you help me escape.'

Macro laughed.'Escape! You're mad.' He waved his spare hand out across the citadel. Marines were running down the streets, intently searching for as much of the pirates' loot as possible.'Soon they're all going to know how you sold them out. And then you're dead the moment you show your face. There's no escape for you, Minucius.'

'You can hide me. Disguise me. Get me out of here. Do it and you'll be a rich man!'

Macro pressed his lips together for a moment, to fight the disgust he felt welling up inside him. 'There are some things a man can't be allowed to survive. Betraying your mates is one of them. Now, put the bag down and draw your sword.'

Minucius stared at him, then lowered the bag to his side. 'All right then, don't do it for the money. Do it for Portia. Do it for your mother instead. She loves me, you know? She needs me.'

'Put the bag down.'

'For her sake, Macro. Do it for her. Don't do it for me.'

'Put the bag down.'

'If anything happens to me, it'll break her heart.'

'PUT THE FUCKING BAG DOWN!' Macro didn't wait to hear any more. He crouched, turned the shoulder of his sword arm towards Minucius and closed in on the traitor.

'Wait!' Minucius cried out. 'What does this prove? We both know you're the better fighter! I don't stand a chance!'

'Then you'll die.'

Minucius dropped the bag, and slumped on to his knees, stretching his arms out towards Macro.'For pity's sake! Think of your mother!'

Macro raised his sword, determined to kill him there and then. For a moment he stood over the wretched traitor, then he clenched his teeth and lowered the blade.

'On your feet!'

Minucius glanced up, his eyes wide and burning with hope. 'You won't regret this, Macro.'

'Get up!'

Minucius scrambled to his feet, smiling nervously. 'Bless you! I knew you were a good man. A good son. We'll never forget this, your mother and I.'

'You want to help my mother?'

'What? Yes! Of course. Of course I do. I love her.'

'All right. You love her.' Macro nodded. He leaned over to the side of the tower and glanced down. The wall fell away in a sheer drop over the cliffs below, straight down into the sea, where the waves foamed white against the rocks. There would be no chance of surviving a fall from this height. He straightened up and stared at Minucius. 'If you love her, then jump.'

'What?'

'Either way you die. I'll kill you and spare you a very public and humiliating execution. Or you can jump and I'll do my best to conceal just what a treacherous little cunt you've been.' Macro forced a smile. 'For my mother's sake, you understand.'

'You're not serious?'

'Perfectly. Now there's not much time. The others will be up here any moment to see what's happened. If you're still on the roof then I'll hand you over to them. You know what that means.'

Minucius bit his lip and clasped his hands together.'Macro, I'm begging you.'

'Do us all a favour. Jump.'

'I-I can't. I'm afraid.'

'Tough.'

A faint shout echoed up the staircase. Then again. Cato's voice calling out to Macro. Without taking his eyes off Minucius, Macro shouted, 'Up here!'

The sound of boots echoed in the stairwell. Macro nodded meaningfully towards the wall of the watchtower and raised his eyebrows. Minucius' face wrinkled into an agony of despair and he shook his head.

'Your choice.' Macro shrugged, stepped a few paces back and turned towards the staircase. He strode over to it as Cato came scrambling through the doorway, sword raised.

Macro raised a hand. 'Easy there! All sorted out downstairs? '

Cato nodded, catching his breath.

'Did you find the scrolls?' Macro asked.

'Yes… Where's Minucius?'

Macro turned round. The traitor had vanished. All that remained was the leather bag lying in a crumpled heap by the wall. Macro stared at the wall for a moment before answering.

'Minucius? He was there just now.' Macro shook his head. 'Guess the old bastard must have winged it…'

06 The Eagles Prophecy