The Legion

Rufus nodded. He had fought in Crete and knew the tale of Macro's captivity, and that of Julia, the prefect's wife-to-be. 'Then perhaps we should camp early, and give Macro the chance to join forces with us.'

Cato thought it over, then shook his head. 'Each time we stop and rest, the men are slower to continue the march. Best to wait until the full day is done before calling a halt.' He moistened his lips. 'We go on.'

Even though the sun began to descend from its zenith, the stifling heat did not seem to abate as the afternoon crept by. The column struck on, burdened by the cumbersome weight of their shields and tormented by thirst. As the sun slipped into the haze that banded the horizon, the glare mercifully subsided and the reeds began to shade the Roman soldiers, panting from the day's exertions. Cato had never known such exhaustion before. Even when he first joined the legion and endured days of route marches, rising at first light, marching in full kit for sixteen miles before downing packs to construct the camp defences and then putting up tents, making cooking fires and only then being allowed to rest, until his turn came at sentry duty. That had been tiring enough, he recalled, but it had been in the temperate climate of the northern frontier in Germania. Here, the heat, stench, insects and the roots and obstacles under the water that threatened to trip up the unwary all combined intolerably and sapped Cato's strength. Only his will to continue kept him moving forward, step by step.

The shadows lengthened as the column emerged once more from the reeds on to solid ground, and now the broken trail joined an established path, which forked a short distance further on. Cato paused and looked both ways.

'What do you think, sir?' asked Rufus, breathing heavily. 'Left or right?'

Cato wiped the sweat from his eyes and considered the choice. 'Left seems to head to the north, towards the coast. If I were Ajax I would head south, away from the sea, and our warships. We'll go right.'

He lowered his shield and strode across the path to a clump of palm trees and pulled out a handful of dead fronds from the ground beneath them. He took out his dagger and quickly stripped the leaves away and then laid the dry grey stems out in an arrow to indicate the way he had decided to head.

'That's for Macro,' he announced, then picked up his shield and led the column to the right, towards the heart of the delta. Although the path was narrow and the tall grass and palms closed in on it from time to time, it was a welcome change from the murky stench of the swamp. They had marched a mile or so along the track when Cato saw the outline of a handful of buildings above the grass, no more than a quarter of a mile ahead. He turned to Rufus and spoke softly as he pointed them out.

'First sign of life all day.'

'Perhaps the locals will have seen something, sir.'

'I hope so.'

Cato was still concerned over the missing section. If they were not lost in the swamp then it was possible that they had fallen in with Ajax and his men. If that had happened, they would have stood little chance. As they approached the buildings, Cato could see that there was perhaps a score of them, loosely spread along a clear thoroughfare. They should be close enough now to detect signs of life, but there was no sound, save the bleating of a few goats, and no sign of any movement. He felt uneasy as the path turned a corner and opened out a short distance from the nearest buildings. He halted the column. The structures were typical of the region: built from mud bricks and covered with light trestles supporting palm leaves that provided shade yet allowed the air to move freely and keep the interiors from becoming unbearably hot. Cato stared along the length of the small village, then he cleared his throat.

'Helmets on, swords out,' he ordered. 'Tell the men to close ranks. Quietly though.'

'Yes, sir.' Rufus nodded and made his way down the line to pass on the instructions. The tired legionaries hurriedly pulled on their helmets and fastened the chinstraps before drawing their swords and raising their shields. Rufus returned to Cato's side.

'They're ready, sir.'

'Good.' Cato settled his helmet on his head and took a deep breath. 'Come on.'

They paced forward, eyes and ears straining as they moved between the first buildings. There was little sign of life. Only a thin dog stirred, lifting its head to watch them for a moment before raising a leg to scratch its neck and then lying back down and panting. Cato paused to look inside the door of one of the nearest buildings but it was empty. The same was true of the next, and they continued along the route towards the centre of the village. Then Rufus growled. 'There, sir, to the left, by the door.'

Cato looked in the direction indicated and saw the dark stain across the rough bricks. Blood.

'Looks like Ajax passed this way.'

Rufus approached the door and transferred his sword to the other hand as he examined the stain. 'If he did, then it was at least an hour ago. The blood's dry. The question is, where are the bodies?'

'Perhaps most of them ran off when Ajax appeared.'

'I hope so, sir.' Rufus took his sword in hand again and looked round. The village was quiet, except for a loud drone of insects and then Cato realised that it came from a short distance ahead where a shoulder-high mud-brick wall had been built to hold the villagers' livestock. He swallowed nervously as he made his way over to the pen and looked over the wall. The interior lay in gloomy shadows now that the sun was low on the horizon. Heaped inside the pen lay the bodies of the villagers. Old, young, men and women – none had been spared.

'What did they do that for?' asked Rufus as he joined Cato. 'If they needed food then why not just take it and let these people live?'

'Ajax is continuing to make his point,' Cato replied grimly. 'He wants the people of the province to know that we cannot protect them. Word of this will spread and the governor will be facing demands for soldiers to protect every village from Ajax and his renegades.'

Rufus thought a moment and shook his head. 'I'm not so sure, sir. It doesn't feel right. This place is too isolated to serve such a purpose.'

'Then why?'

'To keep them quiet. To stop them giving us any intelligence on the number of Ajax's men, their condition, and the direction they took when they left the village.'

Cato reflected briefly and nodded. 'He would do it for those reasons, sure enough.'

'Sir!' a voice called out and Cato and Rufus turned to see one of the legionaries beckoning to them from between two mule stables on the far side of the thoroughfare. 'Over here!'

They hurried over between the stables where a handful of mules stood staring at their empty mangers, and emerged into an open, dung-covered space. The bodies of the advance party lay sprawled on the ground where they had been dragged and dumped.

'Shit,' Rufus muttered. 'That explains it.'

Cato knelt down and examined the bodies more closely. 'Arrow wounds. Looks like they were ambushed.' As he spoke the words, he felt an icy fist clench round his heart. He looked up at Rufus sharply. 'That's why the villagers were killed.'

Before the centurion could respond, there was a warning shout from the street running the length of the village, then a faint whirring sound and a cry of pain. The two officers rushed back between the stables, shields up as they looked round. One man was down on the ground, propped up on an elbow as he stared at the shaft of an arrow protruding from his breast. Another was staggering around as he tried to grasp the arrow that had struck him in the back, smashing through his shoulder blade. More arrows whirred through the air and Cato saw another man struck in the sword arm, pinning it to his side.

He filled his lungs and bellowed. 'AMBUSH! Shields up. Legionaries! On me!'

CHAPTER TWELVE

As Rufus and his men closed ranks and formed a slender ellipse of shields, Cato saw the enemy. Several figures had run out from cover and stood at the far end of the village, aiming their arrows at the Romans. Glancing back, Cato saw more men blocking the opening through which they had entered the village. Ajax had them caught in a crossfire. Cato saw at once that he and his men could easily cut their way out of the street at either end. Then he noticed more figures flitting between the huts on either side. A moment later a bright flame flared up from a house as the palm thatch was set on fire. More flames flickered into life, clearly illuminating the Romans caught between the buildings. There was a grunt as another man was hit in the shoulder, close to Cato, then a sharp thud and he felt the sting of a splinter on his neck as an arrow tip punched through his shield.