The Legion

'True, I'd hate to get lost in this place.'

'There's no knowing how far this extends. We have to catch up with Ajax before he finds a path through it and escapes.' Cato settled his waterskin and rations haversack behind his back and then picked up his shield. The air around him was still and hot and insects swirled in shafts of light where the rays of the rising sun pierced the leafy canopy. 'Let's get on with it.'

He gestured to Rufus to join him and strode to the front of the line of legionaries stretching across the small islet. The long grass had been trodden down and ahead a rough trail of hacked reeds indicated the way that Ajax had headed.

He snatched a breath, and caught the odour of rotting plants and stagnant water. 'Column, advance!'

Cato splashed down into the shallows and pushed his way through the reeds that closed in on both sides. Those who had gone before him had crushed some reeds underfoot and hacked away at others so that the passage of the fugitives was clearly marked. Cato hoped that the fact that Ajax was having to cut his way forward would delay and exhaust his men and make it easier for the pursuers to catch up. As the Romans closed on them, the renegades would be forced to turn and fight, or surrender. But there was always the danger that they might try to spring an ambush on the legionaries. Hopefully, Centurion Rufus's leading section would be able to foil any attempt to surprise the main column.

It was tough going and as the sun climbed higher into the sky, its heat blazed down on the line of soldiers struggling through the reeds. The lack of any movement in the air added to their discomfort and perspiration was soon trickling down from Cato's scalp so that he had to brush it away from his eyes as he plodded forward. Eventually Cato could bear the stifling constriction of his helmet no longer, and took it off and tied the straps to his belt. He told Rufus to allow the men to do the same, and pass the word down the line before they continued forward. Behind him, the centurion occasionally tried to swat away the swirling cloud of insects that had been drawn to the men, uttering foul oaths at the mosquitoes.

'Keep it down,' Cato told him softly.

'Sorry, sir. These little bastards are eating me alive. Wonder what they feed on when they can't get Roman?' Rufus swiped at a large mosquito hovering in front of his eyes. 'Hop it, you nasty little cunt.'

Ahead of him, Cato stopped dead and stared down at something a short distance to one side. 'There's your answer, Centurion.'

Rufus waded up to his side to see what Cato had spotted. A body lay in the water, torso collapsed back against the stems of the reeds. The eyes stared blindly at the sun and a trickle of dried blood from the sagging jaw stained the man's chin. There was a steady drone of insects as they fed on the corpse's sweat and blood.

'One of theirs, I think,' said Cato, noting the man's light complexion.

'Good. That means the lads in the leading section have caught up with the stragglers.'

Cato's lips wrinkled as a large mosquito alighted on one of the man's eyes. 'Here, hold my shield.'

He handed it to Rufus and then bent forward to examine the body more closely. The water was dark and brackish, and he could just see a vague outline below the surface. Reaching down into the water, his fingers brushed against a blade and he groped along the metal until he grasped the handle. Straining, he lifted the handle and the body rose up with it, breaking the surface with an oily swirl of ripples. The point of the sword and a good deal of the blade pierced the stomach at an angle close to the ribcage.

Centurion Rufus pursed his lips briefly. 'Suicide?'

'That, or his comrades did this to spare him from capture.'

'Why, sir?'

'Look there.' Cato pointed with his spare hand as he rolled the body over slightly. There was a large wound in the man's side, like a wide thin mouth. The water had washed most of the blood away, and now thin tendrils of red oozed over the exposed wet flesh. 'He was carrying a wound. He would have held them back.'

Cato released his hold on the sword handle and let the body sink back into the water. Rufus returned his shield and the pair of them returned to the narrow passage beaten through the reeds. The rest of the men had halted behind the two officers and stood, knee deep in the stinking water, as they rested on their shields. Rufus thrust his arm out as he saw one of the men raise his canteen and reach for the stopper.

'What the fuck are you doing, Legionary Polonius? Did I give you permission to take a drink?'

'No, sir.'

'Then lower that canteen and don't lay a bloody finger on it until I say so. You drink that, and pretty soon you'll have drained your waterskin as well. Then you'll die of thirst.'

The legionary hurriedly did as he was ordered and thrust the strap of the canteen over his shoulder.

'That's better.' Rufus stared at his men. 'We don't know how long it's going to take to catch the enemy. That water in your canteen is all that you have. You try even a sip of this liquid shit we're wading through and you won't have a dry arse for a month. If you live that long. So, you only drink from your canteen, and only when I say so. Is that clear?'

The men nodded.

'Then pick up your shields and let's move.'

Cato regarded the centurion with approval. Rufus was clearly old school despite a relatively soft posting to Egypt where the legions had not had to participate in a major campaign in living memory. His tone, bearing and the scars on his arms and face marked him out as a professional soldier, much like Macro, Cato decided.

There was a swirl in the rushes close by and a splashing as something large lunged towards Cato. He turned and crouched as he ripped out his sword and raised his shield. A hideous dark shape, water glistening on its knotted hide, burst from between the reeds and a long tooth-lined jaw opened and snapped down on the shoulder of the dead man. Cato froze for an instant, and before he could react the beast lurched back, dragging the corpse with it. There was a last blur of movement, and a leg jerked lifelessly and then the monster and the body were gone. Only the disturbed water, swaying reeds and the rapidly fading sound of splashing remained.

Cato swallowed, and stared at Rufus wide-eyed. 'What the hell was that?' he muttered.

'Crocodile,' the centurion replied, warily watching the spot where the beast had disappeared, as if it might return at any moment.

'Crocodile?' Although Cato had been warned about them this was the first he had seen up close.

Rufus nodded. 'They live on the Nile, and here in the delta.'

'So I've heard.' Cato slowly straightened up. 'Not too thick on the ground, I trust?'

Rufus slapped his cheek. 'Not as thickly as the insects… But there are enough of them about to cause a problem. The natives tend to keep away from them.'

'No surprises there.'

'Even so, the crocodiles take the odd peasant, or their mules.'

'They don't hunt them?'

Rufus smiled thinly. 'Who would want to? Besides, they're sacred to the natives.'

'Sacred?'

Rufus looked surprised. 'You've been aboard the Sobek for two months and you haven't worked that out, sir?'

'What?' Cato responded irritably.

'Sobek is the name of their crocodile god, sir.'

Cato frowned, cross with himself not to have made the connection. 'Well, if any of them get that close to me again, I may be up for a little sacrilege.'

'I doubt you'd get the chance, sir. They might look cumbersome, but I assure you they can outrun a man on land and outswim him in the water. Best stay clear of them, sir. Them and the snakes.'

'Snakes? Venomous snakes, I take it.'

'Deadly. The cobras particularly, sir. Though they prefer drier ground.'