'Sir, what cargo should we begin with?' asked the mate.
'Whatever's closest to hand. Now open the deck hatch and get on with it.'
The timbers of the hatch had splintered as the cargo tumbled around when the ship had rolled over. Once the ties had been undone, Macro and the others wrenched the battered planks away and threw them over the side of the Horus. The last light of the day was fading fast as Macro leaned over the coaming and stared down into the hold. Whatever order there might have been in the loading of the cargo, there was no sign of it in the jumbled heap of broken amphorae, sacks of grain and bales of material that filled the hold. Sea water sloshed about below.
'Right then, let's get to work,' Macro ordered. 'Take what comes to hand and get it over the side.' He pointed at the nearest of the crew. 'You four, into the hold. The rest of you take what they pass up and throw it overboard.'
The crewmen swung their legs over the side of the hatch coaming and warily eased themselves down into the hold, bracing their feet carefully on the jumbled cargo. Macro spotted some small wooden chests near the top of the pile. 'We'll have those first.'
As the first chest came up on deck the mate stared at it and swallowed nervously. 'Sir, you can't throw that over the side.'
'Oh? Why not?'
'These chests are the property of a Roman lord. They contain rare spices. They're valuable, sir.'
'That's too bad,' Macro replied.' Now pick the chest up and get rid of it.'
The mate shook his head.' No, sir. I will not be held responsible for that.'
With a sigh Macro bent down and lifted the chest up, strode over to the side and threw it into the sea. Turning back to the mate, he could not help being amused by the man's horrified expression.
'There you go. See? Not so difficult when you try. To work, the rest of you. I don't give a shit what anything's worth. It all goes over the side. Got that?'
The crewmen in the hold began to work in earnest, heaving the loose items of cargo up on to the deck, where their comrades stood ready to dispose of it all. Macro returned to the mate and muttered in a low voice, ' Now then, if you don't mind, I think you should lend a hand saving your bloody ship.'
The mate saw the serious expression on the centurion's face and nodded quickly before jumping down into the hold to. help the others.
'That's better,' Macro nodded.
As more chests, and bales of sodden material were heaved up on deck, Sempronius and his daughter approached Macro.
The senator cleared his throat.' Can we help?'
'Of course, sir. The more hands the better. If these sailors look like lacking, kick ' em in the arse. We have to lighten the ship as quickly as we can.'
'I'll see to it.'
'Thank you, sir.' Macro turned to Julia. 'You might as well take shelter in the stern, miss.'
Julia raised her chin defiantly.' No. Not while I can do anything to help.'
Macro cocked an eyebrow. 'I know what Cato meant to you, miss.
Best that I let you deal with your loss. Besides, it's man's work. No offence, but you'd just get in the way'
'Oh really?' Julia's eyes narrowed. She slipped the drenched cloak from her shoulders and let it flop on to the deck. Bending down, she lowered herself into the cargo hold, picked up one of the chests with a grunt and heaved it up towards the deck. Macro looked at her and shrugged.
'As you will, miss. Now then,' his expression hardened, 'I'd better see to the dead.'
'Dead?' Sempronius looked at him. 'It's a bit late to do anything for them, don't you think?'
'We must lighten the ship. They have to go over the side as well, sir,' Macro explained gently. 'I'm no stranger to death, so let me do it.'
'Over the side?' Sempronius glanced towards the stump of the mast where Jesmiah's body lay slumped. 'Even her?'
Yes, sir.' Macro nodded sadly. 'Even her.'
'Such a shame,' Sempronius mused as he stared at the body. 'She's not had much of a life.'
'More than some get, sir. And her death wasn't as bad as it could have been.' Macro briefly recalled the siege of the citadel at Palmyra where he had first met Jesmiah. If the citadel had fallen then, she and all the other defenders would have been put to the sword, after being tortured, or raped. But the senator was right: Jesmiah's life had been cut short, just when she might have had some happiness. Macro sighed as he crossed the deck and bent down. She was still fastened to the mast by a rope around her middle, and Macro drew out his dagger and quickly sawed through the coarse rope and tossed the ends aside. Sheathing his blade, he slid his hands beneath the body and picked her up. Jesmiah's head lolled against his shoulder, as if she was dozing, and Macro paced steadily to the side of the ship and lifted her over the rail.
He took a last look at her young face, and then lowered her to the sea, letting her drop with a splash. Her hair and clothes billowed in the water before a slight swell bumped the body against the side of the hull and carried her out of reach. Macro sighed and turned away to find the next corpse. There were only three more; the rest of those who had been lost had been swept over the side, like Cato, when the titanic wave struck the Horus. Macro paused as he thought of his friend once more. Cato was the closest thing to family that Macro had in the world. In the years they had served together he had come to regard him as a brother. Now he was dead. Macro felt a weary numbness in his heart, but he knew that the grief would come later on, when he had time to think.
'Poor Cato, he never did like the water…'
With a sad shake of his head, Macro turned to pick up the last body, a short, thin merchant who had boarded the ship at Caesarea.
With a grunt he raised the body and tossed it as far from the ship as he could before making his way back to the deck hatch to help the others lighten the vessel.
The burning agony in Cato's lungs seemed to last an eternity and then, as his vision began to fade, he was aware of a lighter patch in the dark water that surrounded him. He kicked out with the last of his failing strength and his heart strained with hope as the light grew and he knew he must be heading for the surface. Then, just as the pain was becoming so unbearable that Cato feared he might black out, there was an explosion of noise in his ears and he burst from the surface of the sea. At once he coughed up the water in his lungs in agonising gasps as he kicked feebly in an.effort to stay on the surface.
For a while his breath came in ragged gasps. Water slapped against his face and into his mouth, causing fresh bouts of spluttering and retching. His eyes stung so badly that he was forced to keep them shut as he struggled to stay afloat. The tunic and heavy military boots weighed him down and encumbered his efforts to stay on the surface. He realised that if he had been wearing anything more than this he would certainly have drowned. Slowly he recovered his breath, and then, as his heart ceased pounding in his ears, he blinked his eyes open and glimpsed around the choppy surface of the sea that surrounded him.
At first he saw nothing but water, then he turned his head and caught a glimpse of the coastline of Crete. It seemed to be miles away, and Cato doubted he had the strength to swim that far. Then something nudged his side and he swirled round in a panic. A length of the ship's spar, complete with a ragged strip of the sail and tendrils of rigging, bobbed on the surface beside him. He let out an explosive gasp of relief as he grabbed hold of the spar and rested his arms over it. While he rose and dipped on the swell, he took in the scene around him. The sea was dotted with debris from the Horus, as well as a handful of bodies.
For a moment Cato was struck by the horrific thought that he was the only survivor from the ship. All the others must have gone down with the vessel when the wave struck and swamped the merchantman. Macro… Julia, her father and Jesmiah, all gone, he thought in a blind panic as a deep groan welled up in his chest.