The water channel was easy to see. It cut a line north to south across the plain in front of them. Two miles to the north was a small bridge; to the south the channel ran for a similar distance before disappearing under a large structure with half its walls missing. According to Dacien, this had once been a minor legionary fortress, abandoned over a century ago. As they reached the bottom of the slope, the boy spoke up and pointed at the channel.
Dacien called back to Cassius. ‘Somewhere there. He’s not exactly sure where.’
‘You can send him home now,’ said Cassius.
The lad looked disappointed when he was told; and he trudged back past them, head down.
Cassius brought up his horse a few yards from the channel. It was about six feet wide and four deep, lined by pale clay bricks. There was little more than a trickle of water running.
‘It’s upstream we’re interested in,’ he told the others. ‘Towards the bridge. We are looking for any clue, however small — might even be another coin. Simo, you and Indavara take this side. Tell the old boy too. Dacien and I will cover the other side.’
Indavara frowned. ‘How will you get your-’
‘What a keen student you are,’ interrupted Cassius. ‘Already eager to see lesson number two. Observe!’
With a roar, Cassius kicked hard against the horse’s flanks. As it charged away, he whipped the reins across the back of its head, feeling the wind in his ears. Despite the wet ground, he was confident the animal was strong and sure-footed enough. He yanked the reins left.
‘Yah!’
They took off two yards short of the channel’s edge but cleared it with ease. The horse landed solidly and cantered on before slowing.
‘Good girl.’
Cassius patted the animal’s neck as he guided it back to the channel; then let it settle into a walk while he kept his eyes fixed downward.
They had covered at least a mile before he saw something worthy of investigation. He dismounted and clambered down into the channel. There was perhaps half an inch of water flowing here; and floating on the surface were tiny pieces of something black. Cassius placed his hand in front of one and it stuck to his finger. He was still examining it when the others caught up.
‘Cloth or some other material — burned to a crisp.’ He waited a while but nothing more floated down. ‘Probably nothing. Take my horse, Dacien.’
Cassius set off up the channel on foot, which not only gave him a better view of the water, but also provided a much needed break from riding.
Another half-mile, and he’d seen nothing but a few more of the black flakes. It was Indavara who saw the coin.
‘There!’
The bodyguard jumped down, then picked it up and threw it to Cassius. Both sides were relatively unscathed. It was a different design, issued under the Emperor Septimus Severus. The obverse showed the Emperor himself, the reverse the prow of a ship.
‘Not as old, but it could easily have come from the same haul.’ Cassius put the coin in his money bag as he walked past Indavara. ‘Well spotted.’
Cassius increased his pace. He spied more of the black flakes before eventually reaching an obstacle. Someone — probably the village children — had filled a section of the channel with branches. Cassius hauled himself out and waited for the others, who were now twenty yards behind. He looked north. The bridge was only half a mile away now and he saw there was something else in the channel just in front of it. The branches had obscured it before.
Shielding his eyes from what was now a bright sun, Cassius walked on, staring at the shape. It was dark and uneven, and big enough to fill the entire channel. Sunlight glinted off something metallic.
Cassius ran back to Dacien and took the reins of his horse without a word. He swung up into the saddle and swiftly pressed the horse into a gallop. As they sped north, his eyes never left the shape. Despite the wind generated by his speed, a sweet, sickly odour grew stronger with every step. By the time he neared the bridge and dismounted, he was no longer looking at one shape, but many.
The burned and badly decomposing bodies of at least ten men had been dumped into the channel. They lay on top of each other, bloated limbs obscenely intertwined. Underneath lay a stack of wood, only half of which had burned away: an unsuccessful attempt to incinerate the corpses. The briefest glance at the close-cropped hair and muscular physiques of the men was all the confirmation Cassius needed.
‘Gods, the smell,’ said Dacien when he arrived.
Simo and Indavara stared at the pile of bodies. The old Syrian backed away.
‘Where’s he going?’ Cassius asked.
The goat-herder mumbled something.
‘He’s scared. Wants to leave,’ said Dacien.
‘We may need him yet.’
‘I know this area better than he does,’ said the ex-legionary. ‘Why not let him go?’
The Syrian was still retreating, taking his pony with him. Judging by the muddy state of the ground, Cassius could see that the rain had been just as strong in this area. The chances of them picking up the trail again were negligible.
‘Very well. Tell him to take his mount for the rest of his payment.’
Once told, the guide nodded to Cassius, then set off.
‘Dacien, if you’re willing, I’ll need your help here. Some grisly work, I’m afraid.’
‘I’ve seen enough to know you’re a man who rewards those who lend assistance. Whatever you need.’
Cassius squeezed his nostrils between finger and thumb, as if this might somehow reduce the smell. He waved Simo and Indavara forward.
‘I’ve already told you these men were escorting a precious cargo. They were legionaries. And there was one Service man with them. The coins were used to cover the cargo which was carried in barrels on the cart. Evidently they were attacked. We must try to work out how and by whom. Understood?’
The three men nodded.
‘Let’s get to it then. Simo, tether the horses together, then find the notes I took at Palmyra.’
Cassius pulled out his handkerchief and tied it around his neck to cover his nose and mouth. He led Indavara and Dacien back to the bodies.
‘By Jupiter,’ said Dacien. ‘They could at least have burned them properly. This is barbaric.’
‘Actually, it’s most fortunate that they didn’t,’ said Cassius. ‘We must take each body out and lay them up here. I must examine each one.’
The uppermost bodies were almost level with the top of the channel. Indavara took off his sword belt, placed it carefully on the ground and reached for the blackened ankle of the nearest corpse.
‘Somebody help me.’
Cassius was relieved when Dacien stepped forward but he reminded himself that he’d seen plenty of dead men before. He had picked them up and loaded them on to carts and buried them. He could handle this.
With Indavara holding one leg, Dacien the other, they heaved the corpse towards them. It slid over another, opening a wide rent in the dead legionary’s side. The flesh peeled open, releasing a seething mass of white maggots.
Cassius staggered away and threw up. Two years suddenly seemed like a long time.
Simo approached the channel slowly, carrying Cassius’s satchel. When he saw the full horror of what lay there, he covered his mouth with his hand and looked away. Cassius — drinking from his canteen — heard him recite a quiet prayer.
‘Little late for that,’ he said. ‘Put my satchel down there. Then you’ll have to help, I’m afraid.’
‘Sir, I’m not sure I can.’
‘The sooner it’s done the sooner we can get out of here.’