The Gladiator

Macro nodded. 'Putting a brave face on it, of course, what with her being the daughter of a senator. But you might want to put her mind at rest sooner rather than later. Then we need to get this tub seaworthy again, otherwise we'll all be for the chop.'

Cato struggled to his feet. 'Where is she?'

'In the hold. Helping get rid of the cargo. Her idea, not mine, before you ask. Now then, ' Macro turned to a nearby sailor, 'give a hand with this.'

Leaving Macro and the other man to ditch the unwieldy amphora, Cato crossed the deck towards the open cargo hold. As he approached, he saw Sempronius looking up. The senator broke into a broad smile.

'Well now! I'd given you up for dead, Centurion.'

Cato grasped the hand that was offered to him, and clasped the senator's arm. The older man stared at him for a moment and then spoke softly. 'It's good to see you, my boy. I feared the worst.'

'So did I, ' Cato replied ruefully. 'Seems the gods aren't quite finished with me.'

'Indeed. I will make a sacrifice to Fortuna the moment we reach dry land.'

'Thank you, sir.' Cato nodded, and then looked past the senator down into the ship's hold. Even in the gloom he could make Julia out at once. She was bent over a waterlogged bale of finely woven cloth, struggling to lift it on to her shoulder.

'Excuse me, sir.' Cato released the senator's hand and hopped over the side of the hatch, dropping slightly behind Julia. He leaned forward to help her, brushing her arm as he took hold of the cloth.

She flinched and snapped.

'I can manage!'

'Let me help, Julia.'

She froze for an instant and then responded in a whisper, without turning her head.' Cato?'

'Of course.'

Dropping the bale, Julia rose up and spun round, throwing her arms around him.' Cato! Oh, Cato... I thought...' She stared up into his eyes, her lips trembling. Then she buried her face in his sodden chest and clenched her fists into the back of his tunic. He felt her shudder and then he heard a sob. He prised himself back so that he could look down at her face.

'It's all right, Julia. Shhh, my love. There's no need for tears, I'm alive and well.'

'I know, I know, but I thought I might have lost you.'

'Really?' Cato raised his eyebrows. It was a lucky thing indeed that he had survived the wave. He forced a smile. 'Takes more than a bloody wave to finish me off.'

Julia released her grip and thumped him on the chest. 'Don't ever do that to me again.'

'I promise. Unless we run into another wave, that is.'

'Cato!' she growled. 'Don't!'

They were interrupted by a loud cough and turned to see Macro, hands on hips, looking down into the hold with a bemused expression. 'If you two have quite finished, can we get back to work?'

The first hours of the night were spent getting rid of as much cargo as possible. The work be came progressively harder as the survivors began to get deeper into the hold, where the heaviest items had been loaded. Much of the cargo had been thrown out of position and smashed against the hull or the underside of the cargo hatch. But slowly the Horusbegan to ride higher in the water, to the relief of all aboard. However, as they delved further into the hold, it was clear that the vessel had shipped a great deal of water.

'We can start bailing that out once we've shifted a bit more of the cargo, ' Macro decided. 'That'll keep us afloat.'

The mate scratched his chin. 'Yes, I hope so.'

Macro turned to him with an irritable expression. 'Problem?'

'Of course.' The mate sounded surprised.' The cargo's shifted all over the place, and the Horushas been capsized. We were lucky she righted herself. Very lucky Shows how well she was built that she's still afloat. But there's bound to be plenty of damage. Some of the seams will have been badly strained, and are probably leaking already'

Macro shrugged.' Then we'll just have to bail the water out faster than it gets in.'

'We can try'

'Bugger try; we will, ' Macro said firmly.

The mate nodded slightly. 'If you say so. But once it's safe enough I'll have to go into the hold and examine the hull for leaks. Then try to stop them up if I can.'

What's the danger of going in there now?'

'There's still loose cargo in there, Centurion. The swell's getting up and I don't fancy being crushed or buried alive if the Horusheaves too far to one side. We have to get as much of the cargo out as we can first.'

'Fair point. When it's safe to go in. I'll give you a hand.' Macro glanced round the deck and his gaze fixed on the shattered stump of the broken mast. 'Something else occurs to me.'

'Sir?'

'Keeping afloat is one problem, but how are we going to get this ship under way again?'

The mate indicated a spar lashed along one of the sides of the vessel. 'We'll have to jury - riga new mast. There's some spare cable and an old sail for'ard. Then we'll need to rig a new rudder and tiller from what's left of the cargo hatch. Should give us steerage way, but she'll be slow, and I doubt if we can weather any storm.' He shivered.

'Or any wave half the size of the one that hit us.'

'That'll have to do then. Soon as we get going we'll make for the nearest harbour on Crete.'

The mate thought a moment and nodded. 'Matala's the best bet.'

'Matala it is then. Now back to work.'

As soon as he felt that the hold was safe enough, the mate climbed carefully across the remaining cargo and waded towards the side of the hull. Macro lowered himself down and followed the mate, carrying a sack of tarry strips of old sailcloth. Hardly any of the light from the stars filtered into the hold, and the steady creak of the timbers and rushing swirl of water on both sides of the hull was unnerving.

'This way' the mate called. 'Stay close to me.'

'I will, don't worry about that.'

The mate headed forward, picking his way over the timber ribs of the Horus.Then he steadily worked his way aft, feeling for any leaks and holes. Every so often he paused to check and then asked Macro for a piece of cloth, and the two of them squatted in the cold water and did their best to stuff the thick material into the small gaps that had opened in the seams. When they had worked their way round the stern and back to the bows and groped their way to the cargo hatch, Macro climbed the ladder on to the deck and slumped down, cold and exhausted.

'Will that keep the water out?' he asked the mate.

'It'll help. It's the best we can dofor now. Once we have the jury mast rigged, we'll have to organise two watches to take turns at bailing the water out.'

'Fine. I'll lead one. Cato can take the other. I want you to concentrate on keeping the ship afloat and getting us to port.'

The mate sighed. 'I'll do the best I can, Centurion.'

'Of course you will. If the ship sinks and we all drown, then I'll have your bloody guts for garters.' He slapped the mate on the back.

'Let's get this mast up.'

With the Roman officers' help, the crewmen untied the spar and positioned the butt up against the stump of the mast. Then, with four ropes tied to the far end, Macro and five men heaved the spar up. The mate, with two strong men, kept the butt in position as Cato oversaw two teams of men heaving on the ropes. Slowly the spar rose up, carefully guided into a vertical position against the mast's stump as Macro and his men took the other two ropes to steady it. At once, the mate and his men hurriedly lashed the spar to the stump, and then tied more ropes around it, as tightly as possible, until satisfied that the makeshift mast was as firm as it could be. There was no rest for the crew as they improvised the necessary shrouds, sheets and a cross spar from the ship's sweep oars, lashed together. Lastly they fetched out the old sail from a locker and fastened it to the spar. The makeshift rudder was lowered over the stern and a man assigned to the tiller before the sail was carefully hoisted up the mast.