A vague movement to his side drew Macro's attention and he saw a file of auxiliary troops stealing along the narrow alleys that threaded the houses and small shops crowding under the looming mass of the acropolis. This part of the city had not suffered nearly as badly as the rest, but even so, Centurion Plotius and his men would be forced to pick their way quietly over the occasional heaps of rubble in order not to alert the sentries on the walls above them.
The two guards at the gate rose to their feet and hefted their spears as the senator and his followers approached. Cato saw that they were big, heavy men with the broken noses of boxers, or perhaps from time spent in the street gangs that were a feature of every large city across the empire. They moved to bar the way to the closed gate and one raised his hand to halt Sempronius.
'State your business, sir,' he said bluntly.
'I'm here to see Marcus Glabius. He is expecting me.'
The guard smiled faintly as he replied. 'Governor Marcus Glabius left word to admit you, sir. He said nothing about any companions.'
Sempronius bit back on his anger. 'These men are my personal secretaries. I need them to make notes at the meeting. Now let us through.'
The senator took a step towards the gate. The guard whistled and the other man on duty blocked their path.
'Get out of my way' Sempronius growled.
'Not so fast, sir,' said the first guard. 'I have to search these bags before I let you enter.'
He turned to Macro and Cato and nodded towards their haversacks. 'Put ' em on the ground and step back two paces.'
They did as they were told and watched as the guard knelt down, opened each bag in turn and rummaged through the waxed slates and styli before flipping the flaps back and stepping away. 'Pick ' em up.'
Cato could sense Macro bristling with anger at his side as they retrieved their bags, and willed his friend to control his temper. The guard approached the gates and bellowed out the order for them to be opened. There was a dull grating from inside as the locking bolt was slid aside, and a moment later one of the doors groaned on its hinges as it swung inwards. The guards stepped aside as Sempronius clicked his fingers and led Macro and Cato into the acropolis.
Like many Greek cities, the acropolis was dominated by temples and shrines to those gods most revered by the local people. In addition, there were a number of administration buildings and barracks built close to the walls that ran around the edge of the hill.
There were no priests in view. A handful of men dressed in comfortable tunics were sitting in the shade of a grove as they drank wine from a slender-necked amphora.
'Seems like the quality of Gortyna are doing all right,' Macro muttered.
A large group clustered around a ga me of dice outside one of the barrack blocks, and another six men were patrolling along the walls, occasionally glancing down over the city, or out across the plains in the direction of Matala, and up into the hills behind Gortyna. The earthquake had flattened one of the smaller temples, and large sections of the roofs of the others had fallen in. The two-storey administration building was largely intact, save for the portico, which had collapsed and now lay in piles of rubble on either side of the entrance.
As they passed the Temple of Jupiter, Best and Greatest, Cato saw that it was the newest structure on the acropolis, and the least damaged. Through the columns that surrounded the building he could see sacks of grain and racks of amphorae piled high along the outer walls. The main doors were open, and more supplies were visible in the dim interior. Cato quickened his pace, caught the eye of Sempronius and nodded towards the temple.
'Enough there to feed the people for a while yet, not to mention our men.'
'I know,' Sempronius replied coolly.' Damn Glabius.'
He led them towards the administration building, where another one of Glabius's hired men stood on guard. Sempronius explained his business once again and the guard nodded and escorted them inside with a curt gesture. They passed through the main hall, which was filled with fine rugs, furniture, statuary and boxes of scrolls. The contents of Glabius's house, Cato surmised, carried up to the acropolis for safe keeping until the crisis was over. On the far side, a door gave out on to a small colonnaded courtyard. A staircase on the far side climbed up to a second level of rooms, built directly on top of the wall. The guard led them up the stairs and along a narrow corridor until they reached a do or at the end. He stopped and rapped on the frame.
'Come!' called a high-pitched voice from inside, and the guard lifted the latch and swung the door open before stepping aside to let Sempronius and his men pass. The room was long and narrow, with windows along one side giving fine views out over the city. Smaller windows, high up on the opposite wall, allowed the afternoon sunlight to fill the room with an amber hue. Glabius sat behind a desk beside one of the windows. A pile of waxed tablets lay before him, with one open on the desk. As they entered, he hurriedly made a final mark in the wax and closed the tablet.
As he strode across the room, Macro studied the man they had come to see. Marcus Glabius was short, a head shorter than even Macro, and heavily covered with fat and flesh that made his cheeks pendulous and quivery. Although his wrinkled face indicated advanced years, Macro was surprised to see that Glabius had fine curly black hair, and then realised that the tax collector was wearing a wig. He wore a silk tunic and soft doeskin boots that laced up to just below his knees. He struggled to his feet and bowed towards his guests.
'Welcome, Senator.' He glanced shrewdly at Macro. Cato had manoeuvred himself to stand behind Sempronius's shoulder. 'I had not expected you to bring company. Witnesses to our discussion, perhaps?'
'These men are my secretaries, not witnesses,' Sempronius replied coldly. 'They are here to take notes.'
'Both of them? Surely one would suffice?'
'For a lesser official, perhaps,' Sempronius countered. 'But as a senator, and as acting governor of the province, it is for me to choose how many men I need.'
'Acting governor?' Glabius smiled. 'You have no right to that title, alas. My poor friend Hirtius made that quite clear in his last hours.'
'Nevertheless, I have assumed the governorship, and have written to Rome to seek confirmation.'
A quick frown flitted across Glabius's features, before he smiled again.' How strange. I have written to my good friend the imperial secretary, Narcissus, to ask for confirmation of my own claim to the post. Ah well, we shall soon see who Rome acknowledges. Anyway, I believe you are here to request rations for your men.'
Macro knelt down and opened his bag. With one hand he began to rummage through the contents, while the other stole slowly round, behind his back. The senator cleared his throat and answered the tax collector clearly.
'No.' Sempronius shook his head.' Not this time. I have finished with requests, Glabius. Nor will I condone any more payments, at your profiteering rates, for the rancid stocks that you supply to my men. I have come here to demand that you surrender control of the supplies gathered here. Furthermore, I want you, your friends and your hired thugs to quit the acropolis immediately.'
For an instant, Glabius's eyes widened with a stab of anxiety. 'Sadly, I am unable to comply with your wishes.' He stepped out from behind his desk so that he had a clear line to the door at the end of the room.' Now, if you don't mind, I think I might need a few, er, witnesses of my own in here.'