The Legion

There was a long pause before the reply came. 'No, sir. Too small. Looks like some kind of a fast yacht. Yes, sir. I'm sure of it. She's altered course and is making for us.'

'A yacht?' Macro scratched his chin. 'Wonder who's in such a hurry to find us.'

'More to the point, why?' asked Cato. 'Trierarch, alter course towards that vessel.'

'Yes, sir.'

The warship swung towards the yacht and the two vessels closed quickly. Less than an hour later, a young Roman officer, who Cato recognised as one of Petronius's tribunes, climbed on to the deck of the Sobek and strode towards Cato.

'Urgent despatch from the governor, sir.' The tribune held out a leather tube with the governor's seal securing the cap. Cato took the tube, broke the seal and took out a small scroll of papyrus. Moving to the side of the ship, he unrolled it and read through it quickly, then again to be quite sure about the contents of the message. He rolled it up and gestured to his friend. 'Macro, on me, please.'

'What is it, sir?' Macro asked in an undertone once he had joined Cato.

'The Nubians have crossed the frontier. They've invaded Egypt. Petronius has ordered the Twenty-Second to advance up the Nile to Diospolis Magna. He aims to mass all his available forces there before moving against the Nubians.'

'Which means he wants us to return to Alexandria at once, I take it.'

'Yes.' Cato clenched his fist round the scroll, crushing it. 'It seems that we are obliged to abandon the hunt for Ajax.'

Macro's heart felt leaden with disappointment and looking at his superior he could see that Cato shared his bitterness. Macro cleared his throat. 'It's just for now, sir. We'll continue the job once the Nubians are dealt with. We'll find the bastard, don't you worry. He'll pay for what he did to me, and to Julia. I swear it, on my life.'

Cato stared at him and nodded. 'As do I.'

Then he took a deep breath and crossed the deck towards the tribune. 'Tell the governor we are making full sail and will return to Alexandria without delay.'

'Yes, sir.' The tribune saluted, and then hesitated. 'Is there anything I should report to him, sir? Any progress you have made in locating the renegade?'

'No. There's nothing,' Cato admitted. 'Now be off.'

The tribune went to the side and climbed down the rope ladder on to the deck of the sleek yacht. At once the crew fended it away from the side of the warship and raised the triangular sail. The wind filled the sail with a dull crack and the yacht heeled as it picked up speed and pulled away from the Sobek, heading west.

Cato turned to the trierarch. 'Set course for Alexandria. Signal the other ships to follow us.'

'Aye, sir.'

As the warship got back under way, Cato stood at the side rail, staring towards the coastline. Ajax was out there, somewhere, and free to continue wreaking damage along the delta, unavenged. It was a bitter thing to swallow, but there was nothing that could be done about it.

The wind strengthened during the day and the ships ploughed through a choppy sea, sending clouds of spray exploding into the air as the bronze-capped rams punched through the swell. The rigging, taut under the strain, hummed as it vibrated and the yardarm stretching across the deck bowed under the pressure from the sail, all under the anxious eye of the trierarch. Then, in the middle of the afternoon, there was a faint crack and Cato turned to see that one of his ships, the Thoth, had slewed to one side. The yard had shattered and the sail collapsed beneath the splintered ends of the length of timber.

'Heave to!' the trierarch ordered. 'Signal the order to all ships!'

Cato bit back on his frustration as the flotilla rolled gently on the waves. The trierarch hurriedly went below to consult his charts and then came back on deck to report to Cato.

'There's a small naval station only a short distance along the coast, sir, on the Tanitic mouth. The Thoth can put in there under oars to pick up a spare yard and then catch up with us tonight. She's the fastest sailer in the flotilla, sir. It shouldn't take her long.'

'Very well, pass the word to the trierarch of the Thoth. As soon as it's done, we continue on course.'

The trierarch nodded and hurried to the stern of the warship where he picked up a speaking trumpet and bellowed the instructions back to the Ibis, who passed them on to the Thoth. Shortly after, the oars emerged from the hull and began to drive the vessel through the waves towards the shore as the crew on deck cut away the shattered yardarm. The rest of the ships braced up their sails and continued to the west.

The flotilla was beached well before sunset in order to give the Thoth a chance to catch up before night set in. The crews set to work building their fires for the night and then cooking some of the fresh rations they had taken on at Casium. The sun crept down towards the horizon and as it touched the palms on the distant headland, Cato came across Hamedes staring out to sea.

'I thought you'd be at prayer.' Cato smiled, jabbing his thumb towards the setting sun.

The priest flashed a guilty smile. 'I'm worried about the other ship. It hasn't arrived yet. It hasn't even been sighted.'

'No. The repairs are probably taking longer than was thought. I don't suppose a small naval station gets many visitors other than…' Cato fell silent. A cold tide of dread seeped up through his guts. He turned and hurried down the beach towards his ship, seeking out the trierarch.

'The supply station you sent the ship to. Tell me about it.'

'I've called in there a few times over the years. Not much to say.' The trierarch pursed his lips. 'They carry stores and supplies. They have a small team of carpenters who can make emergency repairs. The garrison covers the Tanitic mouth and mounts patrols into the delta. Used to be a lot busier before it began to silt up and the mangroves made the tributary unusable for shipping.'

'Show me the location on the chart,' Cato ordered.

While the trierarch hurried up the gangway on to the ship, Macro came over. 'You look like you've swallowed a turd. What's happening?'

'I'm not sure,' Cato replied, trying to stifle his anxiety. 'It's just a feeling. A possibility.'

The trierarch returned, clutching a rolled-up map. He knelt in the pool of light cast by the nearest fire and spread the map. His finger traced along the coastline and stopped. 'Here, sir. That's where the supply station is. Epichos.'

CHAPTER SEVEN

The sails had been taken off the ships and the yards lowered to the deck to reduce the chance that they would be spotted from the shore as they approached. The oars were out and the warships were making their way, very slowly, towards the headland. Cato stood in the foredeck turret straining his eyes as he stared towards the distant outline of the watchtower, barely discernible against the night sky. Macro had landed with a handful of legionaries over two hours earlier. Shortly afterwards he had sent a boat back to the Sobek to report that there were three ships beached on the shore in front of the supply base, one of which was the Thoth. There had been no sign of any movement on the ship. That was proof enough for Cato and he had given the order for the attack he had planned with Macro to go ahead, as soon as the first hint of dawn appeared on the eastern horizon.

Macro would strike first, taking the watchtower on the headland and the lookout post before the sentries could detect the ships approaching from sea and raise the alarm. He had taken Hamedes with him in case they were challenged. Hamedes would claim that he had been forced ashore when his fishing boat had begun to leak. It might buy them a few moments, long enough to spring a surprise. As soon as the towers were in Macro's hands, he would signal the ships waiting to attack. Cut off from the sea, Ajax and his men would be trapped in the fort. They would have to surrender, or more likely they would choose to fight to the last man. Either way, their end was assured, Cato reflected.