The Legion

'I remember.'

'Then know that they are active again. My spies have heard rumours of a fresh plot against the Emperor.'

'The Liberators intend to assassinate him?'

'I don't know the details, only that something is afoot. There are few men I dare trust with the knowledge. That is why I am meeting you out here, alone. I need men I can trust to investigate this further. To penetrate the heart of the conspiracy.'

Cato thought it through and smiled bitterly. 'So that's it. Either we do this for you, or you will deny me my promotion.'

'Yes.'

'And what does Macro gain from this?'

'His pick of the legions when you both return to active service. That, or perhaps the command of an auxiliary cohort.'

'And what guarantee do we have that you will keep to your side of the deal if we take on this task?'

'You have my word.'

Cato nearly laughed out loud but restrained himself in time. There was nothing to be gained from insulting the imperial secretary. Equally, there was much to be lost if he failed to accept the task being offered to him. He looked Narcissus in the eye.

'I cannot give you my answer now. I must speak with Macro first.'

'Where is he?'

'Down in the port.'

'Very well. Then go now. I'll expect to see you back here before the end of the day. Any later and I will assume that you refuse the task, and I will be obliged to find a more loyal man to carry it out. A man more worthy of promotion, if you understand my meaning.'

'Perfectly.' Cato stood up abruptly. 'I'll take my leave of you.'

'For the moment.' Narcissus nodded. 'Don't be too long, Cato. I'll be here, waiting for you,' he added with a ring of certainty that stayed with Cato all the way across the terrace, out of the villa, and down the long path back into the port as he went to find Macro.

'He's a real low, shitty, slimy, crooked piece of work, our Narcissus.' Macro shook his head. 'One of these days I'm going to take him for a nice little walk down a quiet alley and do him in.'

'Come the day,' Cato replied with feeling. He lifted the cup that Macro had poured him and glanced round the small inn. A handful of off-duty Praetorians were playing dice on a table on the far side of the room, dimly lit by the handful of oil lamps hanging from the beams. Cato lowered his voice. 'What do you think?'

'About Narcissus's offer?' Macro shrugged. 'We accept. What else can we do? The bastard has us by the balls and he knows it. Besides, if it gets me back into a legion on a permanent posting then I'm game. You too if you have any sense. How else are you going to get that promotion to prefect confirmed? I tell you, Cato, I'd do anything to get back to regular soldiering. If it takes doing one more job for Narcissus, then I'll do it.'

Cato nodded thoughtfully. His friend was right. There was no choice in the matter. Not if he wanted to marry Julia. He would have to do the bidding of the imperial secretary in order to win his promotion and rise into the ranks of the equestrian class. Only then could he present himself to Senator Sempronius as a suitable husband for his daughter. Cato reached up with his spare hand and touched his scar. He felt a stab of anxiety in his heart as he wondered how she would react when she saw him again.

Macro noticed the gesture and could not help a light chuckle.

Cato frowned at him. 'What?'

'Trust me, lad.' Macro smiled as he picked up the wine jug and reached across the table to refill Cato's cup to the brim. 'The ladies love a good scar. Makes you look more like a real man, not one of the pampered dandies that strut around the forum in Rome. So, let's have a toast. Death to the Emperor's enemies, and here's to the rewards that are long overdue to us both.'

Cato nodded as he tapped his cup against Macro's. 'I'll drink to that, my friend.'

AUTHOR'S NOTE

The Roman province of Egypt was one of the most vital assets of the empire. Rome had been interested in Egypt long before Octavian (who later adopted the title of Augustus) annexed Egypt following the suicide of Cleopatra – the last of the dynasty established by Ptolemy subsequent to the carve-up of Alexander the Great's conquests. Thanks to the regular floods of the Nile, the production of wheat was prodigious. Better still, the kingdom stood at the crossroads of trade between the civilisations of the Mediterranean and the east. The wealth accrued from agriculture and trade made Alexandria the most prosperous and populous city in the world after Rome.

So it was only natural that successive emperors would jealously guard the jewel in the crown of Rome. Unlike other provinces, Egypt was the personal domain of the emperor, who appointed a prefect to govern the province in his name. Members of the senatorial class, and even those from the lower rank of the equestrians, were strictly prohibited from entering Egypt without the express permission of the emperor. Not that the febrile brew of ethnicities in Alexandria needed outside agents to provoke it into violence. One of the recurring features of the history of the province is the frequent outbreak of riots and street-fighting between the Greeks, Jews and Egyptians who inhabited Alexandria and vexed the patience of the Roman governors.

Roman rule of Egypt was based on one overriding purpose: to extract as much wealth from the province as possible. Consequently, the administrative system was run extremely efficiently to maximise tax income, and the people of Egypt were taxed to the hilt. Much of the burden rested on the middle class of the province – the traditional and easy target of tax officials then and now. As a consequence, the unlucky taxpayers eventually succumbed to debt, and the long term decline of Egypt began.

The native Egyptians had already resisted the earlier imposition of Greek culture by the Ptolemies, and the Romans never managed to persuade the natives to buy into the Roman way. Latin was the language of oppression and, outside of Alexandria and the largest cities and towns, life carried on pretty much as it had under the pharaohs. Even today, many of those living along the banks of the upper Nile still live in the same mud-brick houses as their forbears and harvest their crops by hand.

Aside from the heavy hand of their Roman masters, the local people also endured frequent raids and small invasions by Nubians and Ethiopians across the frontier south of modern Aswan. The Roman outposts either side of the narrow strip of inhabitable land on both sides of the Nile were easily overcome or circumvented, and plunder easy to come by. The legions of Rome were always stretched thinly around the thousands of miles of frontier that protected the empire. It was no different in Egypt. The three legions that Augustus had stationed there were soon reduced to two, one of which was dispersed to various postings across Egypt. The balance of troops available to the governor was made up of auxiliary cohorts. Under the close watch of the Emperor, the governor had to ensure that the wheat and tax continued to flow to Rome, while managing barely adequate forces to maintain order and defend the frontier – a truly unenviable job.

As ever, I have made sure that I walked the ground on which the novel is set. I can vouch for the discomfort of those marshes in the delta, and the searing heat of the upper Nile! The ancient ruins are also well worth a visit and I could not help but be in awe of the civilisation that had created such vast monuments long before an obscure settlement on the banks of the Tiber even came into existence. For readers who want to experience Egypt for themselves I would heartily recommend a trip to Luxor (Diospolis Magna). Many of the locations mentioned in the novel are still there and, with a little imagination, can be viewed just as Macro and Cato would have seen them.