The Legion

'Then it seems to me that you are better off hunting down those two Roman officers of yours rather than supporting my cause. I need soldiers, not grudge bearers who use my army for shelter.'

'I do not seek shelter, Highness. I will serve you and do all that I can to further your cause. For now, I ask that you give me a column of your men to command and I will visit death and destruction upon our common enemy. I know how to fight and I know how to lead men. Trust me, and I will prove my words. Besides, I have more to offer you than myself and my men here in your camp. Something that may well provide you with an advantage in the war with Rome.'

'And what would that be?' Talmis asked with an amused smile. He leaned forward. 'What advantage could a fugitive slave offer me?'

Ajax resisted the urge to smile. He had a most useful bargaining counter and once Prince Talmis knew of it, Ajax was certain the Prince would accept the alliance.

'I have a spy in the Roman army. I have infiltrated one of my men, and he will tell us all that we need to know about the strength of the Roman army, and its dispositions.'

Prince Talmis nodded slowly. 'That is good. Very good. Well then, Ajax, it seems that we might be of use to each other after all. I will appoint you as one of my officers and give you men to command. I already had it in mind to teach the Romans an early lesson, and you will be the man to deliver it.'

CHAPTER NINETEEN

'Hmmm.' Macro shook his head. 'Not the prettiest of sights.' The headless bodies of the legate and two of the tribunes lay in the back of the cart. A cloud of insects buzzed over the bloated corpses and gorged on the blackened tendrils of gristle and bone on the stumps of their necks, and the right wrist of Candidus. A decurion held back the goatskin cover and stood to one side as his superiors gazed into the back of the cart. Cato and Macro had been discussing their appointments with Aurelius when a clerk had intervened to tell them that the patrol sent to look for the legate had found his body, and those of his escort.

Cato clenched his nostrils tightly and edged away from the back of the cart. 'Where did they find them?'

The decurion nodded vaguely towards the south. 'A ravine, some thirty miles up the road towards Ombos, sir. The men of the escort were all dead, save one, but they hadn't been mutilated. Just the senior officers. The survivor's been taken to the surgeon. He's in a bad way. Hamstrings cut and been with almost no water for three days.'

'Did he say who carried out the attack?' asked Macro.

The decurion shook his head. 'He was babbling like a baby, sir. Hardly a coherent word. But it is likely that the attackers were Arabs. They raid from the desert from time to time. Make the most of it while we gather together a column to drive them off. That said, it's unlike them to choose a target like the legate and his escort. Not much in the way of rich pickings after a hard fight.'

'I take it that you didn't find any bodies besides those of our men?'

'No, sir. But then the Arabs never leave their dead behind if they can help it. Makes the natives nervous if they think the Arabs are like some kind of evil spirits who can strike and disappear at will.'

'Then could it be the Nubians?' asked Cato.

'It's possible, sir. But the last report I heard was that they were still camped close to the cataract. But they could have stolen a march on us, or sent a raiding column forward to gather intelligence and harass our outposts. I still think the Arabs are the most likely culprits.' He paused a moment. 'They might have taken the heads and the ring hand to the Nubians to prove their deed and gain some reward. Or it's possible that Prince Talmis has recruited Arab mercenaries to serve in his army.'

'The Arabs then,' Aurelius intervened. 'Once the Nubians are dealt with we shall send a punitive expedition to deal with them. Harshly.' He gestured to the decurion. 'Cover them up. Take them to the legate's quarters. Have their personal effects removed for return to their families and then tell the surgeon's staff to prepare the bodies for cremation.'

'Yes, sir.' The decurion pulled the goatskin back over the corpses and climbed up on to the driver's bench. With a click of his tongue and a flick of the reins, he urged the mule team into a walk and the wagon rumbled out of the gate of the priests' quarters.

Aurelius watched the cart leave. The fingers of his left hand twitched momentarily before he turned to Cato and Macro with an anxious expression. 'That explains the legate's disappearance.'

It was an asinine thing to say and he winced at himself immediately. Cato could readily understand the shock that the death of the legate might cause his close subordinate.

'Did you know the legate well?'

Aurelius nodded. 'We have served together for the last eight years.'

'So long?' Macro looked surprised. 'Sorry, sir, it's just that I've never known a legate serve so long with one legion.'

'Yes, well, it's different here in Egypt,' the camp prefect responded tersely. 'Candidus was appointed by Emperor Tiberius at the end of his reign. The commanders of the Egyptian legions and the governor are appointed from the equestrian class. The senators are not permitted to hold high office here. For that matter, they're not even allowed to enter the province without the express permission of the Emperor. So the appointments tend to last much longer in Egypt.'

'What about you, sir? You can't have been camp prefect all that time.'

'No indeed. I've held the rank for the last three years. First spear centurion before that.'

Macro glanced at Cato, unable to conceal his shock. The senior centurion of the legion was traditionally its toughest, bravest and most experienced officer. The thin, dapper figure of Aurelius was adorned with a finely spun tunic and his cuirass was inlaid with swirls of gold and silver. But, unlike Macro and Cato, he did not have a leather harness to carry the medallions they had been awarded for displays of courage and battles won. In every other legion Macro had served in, the camp prefect and the first spear were seasoned fighters with swathes of awards on their chests. 'You were a first spear, sir?'

'I was.' Aurelius frowned. 'I have served my time, you know.'

Macro was about to say something when Cato coughed loudly, warning his friend off. Before Macro could intervene any further, Cato spoke. 'What are your intentions now, sir?'

'My intentions?'

'Yes, sir. You are the next in the chain of command. Now that Candidus is dead, you are the commander of the forces gathered at Diospolis Magna.'

'Of course I am,' Aurelius replied shortly. 'I know that.'

He stood still for a moment, looking down at his boots, and then nodded to himself. 'I'll summon my senior officers. They have to be informed about Candidus's death. And then we shall set about dealing with the Nubians.' He looked up, straightened his back and cleared his throat. 'We shall meet here at headquarters at noon, gentlemen.' With that he turned and marched back into the entrance of the priest's quarters.

Cato watched him go and then spoke softly. 'What do you make of our new legate?'

Macro dabbed at the sweat on his brow. 'Have to say that I'm not encouraged. It seems that the man's been a professional stylus-pusher throughout his career. I've never seen the like of the Twenty-Second. Must be the cushiest posting in the entire army. Swanning around the Nile while their officers have nothing better to do than wait until it's their turn to take the job of first spear centurion or camp prefect. Gods!' He shook his head in frustration. 'I just hope the other senior officers aren't the same. Or their men. I tell you, Cato, I don't fancy going into battle against the Nubians with a bunch of time-serving bureaucrats at my side.'

Cato nodded as he stared into the mid-distance and Macro sighed wearily. 'All right then, what's on your mind?'

'Sorry?' Cato stirred and looked at his friend vaguely.