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Cato glanced away, down into the blue depths of the sea. 'Julia has been in my thoughts almost every day, Macro. I think of her, and then I imagine her in that cage Ajax kept the pair of you in. It torments my mind, picturing what she went through.'

'We both went through the same thing,' Macro replied gently. 'And I'm still here. Still the same Macro as ever was.'

Cato looked up at him sharply, his gaze intense. 'Really? I wonder.'

'What do you mean?'

'I know you well enough to see how bitter you are, Macro.'

'Bitter? And why not? After what that bastard put us through.'

'And what did he put you through? What exactly? You haven't told me much about it. Neither did Julia before we left Crete.'

Macro watched him closely. 'Did you ask her?'

'No… I didn't want to remind her of it.'

'Or is it that you didn't want to know?' Macro shook his head sadly. 'You didn't ask, and now you are forced to imagine instead. Is that it?'

Cato stared at him and then nodded. 'Something like that, and the fact that I did nothing to help you.'

'There was nothing you could do. Nothing.' Macro rested his elbows on the bulwark. 'Don't take it out on yourself, Cato. That won't achieve anything. It won't help you catch Ajax. Besides, all you have to know is that Julia is a strong woman. Whatever she went through, give her some time and she'll cope with it.'

'Like you have?'

'I'll deal with it in my own way,' Macro said firmly. 'If the gods see fit to place Ajax in my path, then I'll carve his fucking balls off and ram them down his throat before I finish with him. I swear it by every god that I have ever prayed to.'

Cato raised his eyebrows and gave a dry chuckle. 'Sounds like you've managed to put it all behind you.'

Macro frowned. 'I will, when it's all over.'

'And until then?'

'We don't rest until we've carried out our orders.'

'Good. That's settled.' Cato eased himself up. 'Then I'd better give the orders to turn the ships about and make for Alexandria.'

Macro stood to attention and saluted. 'Yes, sir.'

The moment of companionship was at an end, Cato accepted sadly. They were prefect and centurion once more. He nodded at Macro and raised his voice, as if he was an actor declaiming in front of an audience. 'Very well, Centurion. Return to your ship and take station behind the Sobek.'

They turned back towards the main deck and had almost reached the base of the mast when the lookout's voice called from above.

'Sail sighted!'

Cato halted and tipped his head back. 'Where away?'

The lookout thrust his hand out, pointing off the port bow, out to sea. 'Over there, sir. Hull down. Eight, maybe ten miles.'

Cato turned to Macro with an excited gleam in his eye. 'Let's hope it's our man.'

'I doubt it,' Macro replied. 'But he might have seen or heard something of Ajax.'

'That's good enough for me. Now back to your ship and make sail. I'll close on him from the sea, you from the direction of the coast. There'll be nowhere for him to run, whoever it turns out to be.'

CHAPTER THREE

The ship made no attempt to evade the two warships and seemed to wallow, directionless, on the sea. As the crew furled the sail and used oars to manoeuvre closer, Cato could see that the sail was billowing freely. The sheets had been set loose or cut, he decided. The wide beam and high stern were those of a cargo ship and Cato felt briefly disappointed that he had been cheated of finding his prey. There was no sign of life on the deck, and the steering paddle rocked gently from side to side as the waves sloshed against the hull.

To landward, Macro's ship was making the best use of the offshore breeze to close swiftly before using oars, although he would reach the cargo vessel a short time after the Sobek.

'Shall I form my lads up, sir?' asked Centurion Proculus, the commander of the legionaries assigned to the prefect's ship.

'No. I'll use the marines. They're trained for boarding actions.'

Proculus breathed in sharply, offended at having to give way to men he considered his inferiors. Cato ignored him, well used to the tensions between the two services. Besides, the decision was his. He turned to the decurion in charge of the ship's complement of thirty marines. 'Diodorus, have your men formed up ready to board.'

'Yes, sir. Shall I deploy the corvus?' He nodded to the contraption lashed to the deck in front of the mast. The corvus was a gangway, which was raised and lowered by a pulley. A wooden pin at one end allowed it to pivot round, over the side of the vessel. At the far end was an iron spike like a crow's beak. When the device was in position above the target vessel's deck, it was released and the spike would slam down, piercing the deck and pinning both ships together while the marines rushed across and into action. Although there was no sign of life, Cato decided to stick to convention in case there was a trap waiting to be sprung.

'Yes. Use the corvus. If you need to be reinforced we can send over the legionaries to settle the issue.'

Proculus puffed up his chest. 'We'll get the marines out of any trouble, sir. You can depend on us.'

'Glad to hear it,' Diodorus muttered sourly as he made off to issue his orders.

As the Sobek closed on the cargo ship, the deck teemed with armed men taking up their positions. When all was in readiness, they stood still, awaiting the order to go into action. The warship's trierarch slowed the beat of the sailors manning the oars and cautiously brought his vessel up on the stern quarter of the drifting hulk. When he judged that they were making just enough to carry them down the length of the cargo ship, he shouted the order to ship oars.

Cato had put on his full armour and climbed into the turret on the foredeck to survey the other vessel as the Sobek glided alongside. There were dark streaks around the scuppers which faded away as they approached the waterline. Blood, he realised. A moment later he saw the first of the bodies, a man slumped over the side rail. Then more corpses scattered across the steering deck.

'Make ready the corvus!' Diodorus bellowed and there was a grating creak as the gangway swung out, round and over the side of the cargo ship.

'Release!'

The gangway dropped, the iron point curving down, gathering speed, and then it slammed into the deck with a splintering crack.

'Forward marines!' Diodorus cried out, raising his sword as he climbed on to the gangway and raced across towards the other ship. His men ran after him, coarse, leather-soled boots pounding the boards of the gangway. In moments the marines were across and warily fanning out across the deck of the cargo ship.

Cato climbed down from the turret and called out to Proculus. 'You and your men wait here. If I call for you, come at once.'

'Yes, sir.'

There was no sound of fighting, no shouts or cries of alarm from the cargo ship, and Cato left his sword in its scabbard as he strode across the gangway, briefly glancing down at the water washing between the two hulls. Despite being aboard for the best part of two months, he still feared and hated the sea; another good reason to pray that his current quest came to a successful conclusion as soon as possible. When he reached the far end of the gangway, Cato jumped down and looked round slowly. There were bodies strewn across the deck and dark patches of dried blood. The cargo hatches had been dragged aside and the freight below was a jumbled mess of goods: shattered amphorae, discarded bales of cloth and split sacks of rice and spices. Diodorus was squatting beside one of the bodies and Cato joined him.