The Legion

Though they were forgotten, they had lived in an age of marvels, Cato mused as the convoy passed by the trio of pyramids, guarded by a giant Sphinx, a short distance downriver from Memphis. Though he had seen them several days earlier, on the way to report to Petronius, Cato still viewed them with awe as he stood on the foredeck shading his eyes as he stared. They were built on the scale of mountains, it seemed, though geometrically perfect in a manner that nature could never achieve. The sides seemed to be glassy smooth for the most part, and patches of what looked like gold leaf reflected the sun's rays in such dazzling splendour that Cato thought they would have been impossible to behold when in their prime.

'Quite a sight,' said Macro as he came forward to stand beside Cato. He stared a moment longer and then shook his head. 'Hard to believe it's the handiwork of the gypos, ain't it?'

'That's hardly a fair comment.' Cato gestured to a village on the shore. 'These people are living in the shadows of their ancestors. They are not the same.' He paused for a moment in reflection. 'Perhaps one day they will say the same of our ancestors when Rome is little more than a curiosity. When our great monuments are crumbling back into the ground.'

'Pfft! You talk utter bollocks sometimes, Cato.' Macro nudged him. 'You know you do.' He cleared his throat and then imitated the same hushed and reverential tones of his friend as he continued. 'Rome is the darling of the gods, brought forth into the world to be a shining beacon of all that is great and best. In the distant future people will stand in front of the gates of Rome and look in wonder on our mighty works and despair…'

'Have you quite finished?' Cato asked tersely.

Macro sniffed. 'Give me a moment, I'm sure I might have missed something pretentious I could have said.'

'Fuck off.'

'Now that's spoken like a soldier. Brief, and to the point. Come, forget about all them dusty piles of stone and get into the shade before you start getting even more light-headed, eh?'

Macro slipped back under the awning and sat down. Cato stared at the pyramids for a little longer, but Macro's words had robbed them of some of their mystique and with a sigh he turned and joined Macro and Hamedes in the shade.

Ten days after the convoy left Alexandria the barges sailed round the final bend in the river before Diospolis Magna just after the sun had fallen behind the arid mountains on the western bank. On the opposite bank towered the pylons of the largest temple complex Cato had ever seen. Tall wooden masts rose from brackets on the carved walls and tattered banners of faded red wafted and flickered in the evening breeze. A tall mud-brick wall surrounded the temple, giving it the appearance of a vast fortress. A stone landing stage stood a short distance from the edge of the river, where a more recent quay constructed from wood lined the bank of the Nile.

'Karnak,' Hamedes said with reverence, and then pointed further along the bank to another, far smaller complex. 'And that's the temple of Amun. The city lies beyond.'

The captain of the barge sat at the tiller and gently heaved it away from him as he steered in towards the quay. A number of soldiers were standing guard along the quay and on towers erected behind the walls. As the flotilla approached, a party of soldiers emerged from the ornate landing platform and descended the ramp on to the quay to assist with mooring the barges. The crews tossed ropes across the water to them and one by one the barges were hauled in and the ropes fastened to worn wooden cleats lining the quay.

The two Roman officers and the priest gathered their kitbags and stepped ashore. Cato stopped the optio in charge of the mooring party.

'Where is the army headquarters?'

'Who wants to know?'

Macro stepped forward to tear a strip off the optio for his insubordination but Cato raised a hand to stop him. They were wearing only their standard-issue tunics. Their armour, and insignia, were packed in their kitbags.

'Prefect Quintus Licinius Cato and Centurion Macro reporting for duty with the Twenty-Second,' said Cato and nodded at Hamedes. 'This is our scout.'

'Ah, my apologies, sir.' The optio stiffened to attention. 'You want the priests' quarters, sir.' The optio turned and pointed to the east of the temple complex. 'Over there. I'll have one of my men guide you.'

Cato nodded as he cast an eye over the optio and his men. Most were dark-skinned, like the natives. A few had the lighter skins of the Greeks or Romans. 'Very well.'

Shortly after, they climbed the ramp to the ceremonial landing stage and the vista inside the temple complex opened up. Thousands of men were camped inside the wall, their tents aligned in neat rows stretching out across the compound. In the distance, towards the rear of the complex, lay the stables where the horses of the auxiliary cohorts, and the four squadrons of legionary cavalry, stood sheltered from the sun beneath shades made from palm fronds. A short distance outside the walls, between the temple complex and the city, lay the sprawl of tents belonging to the camp followers. This was where the soldiers could find drink, trinkets and comfort in the arms of women from the numerous companies of prostitutes run by seedy Greek merchants.

'Impressive.' Hamedes nodded. 'I have never seen such a powerful army. The Nubians would tremble at such a sight. I could not guess at the number.'

'The number is less impressive than you might think,' Macro replied. 'A legion has over five thousand men on its roll at full strength. But then, they never are at full strength. The auxiliary units amount to perhaps three thousand men. At best Candidus has eight thousand men to counter the Nubians.'

'But surely, sir, the Roman soldiers are the best in the world? How else could they have won such an empire?'

'There are soldiers and there are soldiers,' Cato responded quietly.

The legionary assigned to escort them to headquarters led them down a short avenue of Sphinxes and through the gates of the first set of pylons, across a courtyard and between two large statues into a hall filled with vast columns. At the far end they turned right towards another set of pylons stretching to the south. The courtyards here were packed with supply carts and thousands of sacks of grain to supply the army once they marched south to do battle with the Nubians. For Hamedes the army's preparations for war were something of a novelty and he kept glancing about him with insatiable curiosity.

'Hey,' Macro called to the legionary. 'You had any word on the enemy?'

The man glanced back and shook his head. 'Nothing for days, sir. Last I heard was that their mounted troops had been seen as far north as Ombos.'

'Where's that?'

'A hundred or so miles upriver.'

Macro turned to Cato. 'Not exactly blazing a path through the underbelly of the province, are they? And Candidus isn't exactly rushing to drive them back either.'

Cato shrugged. 'I'm sure the legate has his reasons.'

'I'd be interested in hearing them.'

They strode down through the last set of pylons, and saw another avenue of Sphinxes heading towards the temple of Amun, over a mile away. A short distance from the avenue was a large low building, surrounded by another mud-brick wall. A section of legionaries stood guard at the gate.

'This way, sir.' Their guide gestured to Cato. The optio in command of the gate raised a hand as they approached.

'Halt! State your business.'

'Officers joining the legion,' the legionary explained and stood aside as Cato reached inside his tunic and took out his orders and handed them over for the optio to inspect. He ran his eyes over the papyrus scroll and then saluted. 'Welcome to the Jackals, sir.'