'Sit back!' Macro snapped. 'Don't move again.'
'Sorry, sir.'
The skiff was heavily laden and awkward to move and the man at the oars had to work hard to keep on course. The sun was beginning to sink into a murky orange haze to the west and the dark forms of birds swooped low over the water, feeding off the insects. They were not the only animals feeding, Cato realised as the skiff approached the landing stage. There was a movement in the reeds away to the left and a long glistening snout protruded briefly through the slender green growths, then with a swirl of water and swish amongst the tops of the reeds, it was gone.
The skiff approached the landing stage, constructed from stone in the forgotten days when priests once came to the shrine to make offerings. Now the stone was worn with age and mottled with bird droppings. The man at the oars shouted over his shoulder to Junius, and then pointed to the rope loosely coiled beside the tribune. Junius nodded his understanding and took up the rope, reaching out to the iron ring that was fastened to the side of the stonework. A thrust of the oars brought it within reach and the tribune grasped it and pulled the boat in. As soon as he could he slipped the end of the rope through the ring and pulled it back, drawing the craft closer. Once the craft was securely moored, Junius clambered ashore and helped the others up. When they were all on firm ground, Macro turned to the Nubian captain.
'You speak Greek?'
'Little.'
'Then no tricks, understand?' Macro slapped his scabbard. 'Or else.'
The captain nodded and then led the way up a crumbling stone path lined with palm trees. It was only a short climb before they emerged close to the entrance to the shrine. Cato turned back and saw the distant figures watching them from the riverbank. Then he strode towards the entrance with the rest of the party, his heart beating swiftly as he anticipated the meeting with Ajax. At his side Macro's expression was grim and his lips pressed tightly together. The two auxiliaries followed Macro, and Cato and Junius took up the rear. The sentry at the gate saluted as he saw the captain and there was a brief exchange before the Nubian led the party inside the shrine.
The interior was enclosed in a ten-foot wall on which hieroglyphs had been deeply carved to let the shadows accentuate each character. Two figures sat with their backs to the far wall, watched by two men with spears, some fifteen feet away. Ajax looked up as the new arrivals stood in the entrance. For a moment his face was blank, then his keen gaze took in the weapons in the hands of the Romans and he smiled weakly.
'So, Prince Talmis has been defeated. I wondered. Now I am to be your victim instead of his.'
Cato stared at the gladiator, his mind seething with hatred and a constant refrain to remember his orders. There was something else he was dimly aware of at the same time: a vague sense of disappointment that the long hunt had come to an end.
'We go,' announced the captain.
'What?' Cato turned to him. The Nubian gestured to his men and pointed in the direction of the skiff. Cato nodded curtly.
The captain called to his men and they backed away from the prisoners and gathered their haversacks and joined their officer. Then, with a brief nod to Cato, the Nubian led his men out of the shrine. Cato heard the pad of boots fading away and then there was silence as the prisoners and the Romans gazed at each other.
Ajax broke the silence. 'What will you do with me?'
'Take you back to Rome,' Cato said tonelessly.
'I see. You will make a spectacle of my death? A warning to other slaves of the cost of defying Rome.'
'I imagine that's what the Emperor will want. Frankly, I don't care about that. Macro and I just want to see you pay for all the suffering you have caused.'
'And what of the suffering you caused me?'
Macro growled. 'Your father was a bloody pirate. He deserved his end. As you deserve yours.'
Ajax glanced past the two officers and a brief smile flickered across his face. At once Cato felt an icy tremor course down his back. He turned to follow the direction of the gladiator's eyes. Behind him stood the two auxiliaries, spears grasped firmly as they watched the prisoners closely. Beyond them Junius had drawn his sword and was waving it from side to side. The signal for the release of Prince Talmis. Cato felt his anger rising. 'I didn't give the order to-'
Junius stepped forward and swung his sword into the back of the nearest auxiliary's neck, cutting through the spine. The man's mouth sagged open as he collapsed. The other man half turned and looked down at his stricken companion, too shocked to react fast enough to save his life. Junius stepped forward and stabbed him in the throat.
'What?' Cato stared at the tribune aghast. It was Macro who grasped the truth first. He tore out his sword and turned on Junius.
'Traitor!' he roared. 'He's the one!'
'Traitor?' Cato felt as if he had been struck numb. The image of Hamedes lying dead with a knife in his back leapt into his mind. He felt sick with the terrible knowledge of his mistake. 'No… Not Junius.'
The tribune grinned. 'I doubt you'll ever find the body of Junius. The jackals along the road from Memphis will have seen to that. That's where we caught him, on his way to join the legion.'
He threw his sword over Cato's head and ducked down to snatch up one of the auxiliary's spears. The sword thudded into the ground in front of Ajax and he snatched it up and sprang to his feet, as did the other prisoner. Ajax laughed harshly.
'My thanks, Canthus. You save me again.' Ajax pointed the sword at Cato. 'The legate is mine. Deal with the centurion.'
'Canthus?' Cato felt sick, but still had enough presence of mind to draw his sword. The young man lowered the tip of his spear and thrust at Macro. His action was fast and Macro only just had time to lurch to one side to avoid the weapon. At once his opponent feinted again as he tried to keep him off balance. But Macro had managed to drop into a balanced crouch and easily parried the blow aside. The two men watched each other closely.
A padding of feet caused Cato to turn, just as Ajax slashed out with his sword. The tip hissed through the air and Cato ducked. Thrusting his blade up, Cato stabbed at Ajax's side. It was a hurried stroke, yet the blade cut through his soiled tunic and gashed the muscly flesh over the gladiator's ribs. Ajax snarled ferociously and backed off a step. He reached round with his spare hand to touch the wound. Behind him Cato saw his companion, Karim, the swarthy lieutenant he recalled from the rebellion on Crete. The man was hurrying round the far wall of the shrine, towards Macro's back.
'Macro! Watch out!'
As Cato shouted the warning, Ajax lunged forward, slashing at Cato's face. He tried to scramble away, but the sword point cut high on his forehead and swept on down across his brow, nose and cheek. It felt as if he had been hit in the face by a red-hot hammer and his vision instantly blurred and a terrible, agonising pain seared across his consciousness, blotting out thought of anything else. Cato stumbled back and fell, his sword slipping from his fingers. The impact drove the breath from his lungs and blood spilled into his eyes and blinded him.
Macro heard the warning, and saw Canthus's gaze flicker to his right. Macro pounced forward, hammering his sword down on the fingers of the hand nearest him. The blade cut through and the severed digits dropped from the spear shaft. Canthus howled with pain. Macro ran on, and with his full weight behind the punch, smashed his fist into Canthus's face. As Canthus staggered under the blow, Macro struck with his sword, a savage blow to the side of his head that split his skull with a wet crack. Before Canthus hit the ground, Macro turned on the spot, bracing his feet and holding his sword point out. Karim could not check his sprint in time to avoid the weapon. The point plunged through his chest, shattering his sternum, driving the air from his lungs in a hot blast into Macro's face. Even so the impetus of his charge drove his body on and both men crashed to the floor, the point of Macro's sword bursting out of the rebel's back. Karim glared down at the centurion as blood dripped from his open mouth. Both hands reached up, desperately feeling for the Roman's throat. Macro felt them begin to claw at his neck and heaved him aside, wrenching at the blade.