The Legion - Scarrow Simon (электронная книга .txt) 📗

'Which direction did it take?'

'West.'

'Towards us?' Macro frowned. 'We never saw it.'

'It must have slipped past us in the dark,' said Cato. 'Or they sighted us first and turned back, or went and hid along the coast. Assuming it was Ajax, that is.' He reflected briefly. 'It has to be him. We're supposed to be the only naval forces operating along the delta.'

Cato gestured towards the fishing boats, small craft made from bundles of reeds, tied together with ropes. 'Ask him if we can buy some of their catch.'

Hamedes translated and the other man cautiously beckoned them closer. Cato kept his hands out, where they could be seen clearly, and walked towards them. The dark eyes of the fishermen watched him closely and they drew back into a loose semi-circle as Cato and his companions approached the baskets. Scores of fish flipped about inside, and others opened and closed their bony mouths, as if gasping. More fish struggled in the nets. Cato gestured to them.

'Tell him we didn't intend to interrupt their work. They can continue, while we talk.'

With suspicious glances at their visitors, the fishermen went back to expertly plucking the catch from the folds of their nets while the headman conversed with Hamedes.

'He asks how much we wish to buy.'

'One basket will do.' Cato took the purse off his belt and took out some of the silver coins that Petronius had issued to the flotilla to pay for supplies. 'Here, ten obols.'

The headman's eyes momentarily lit up and then his face formed a dismissive expression.

'He says twenty. He has many mouths to feed in his village. If he sells his catch, some will go hungry tonight.'

'Bloody haggling,' Macro growled.

'Twelve,' Cato responded to Hamedes. 'It's a fair price. Tell him.'

The headman shook his head.

'Fifteen. He says he's robbing himself. But he can see that you are a good man, so he makes this price just for you.'

'Fifteen obols,' Macro puffed irritably. 'Does he think we're complete fools?'

'Shhh,' Cato hissed. 'Fifteen it is.'

He counted out the coins and handed them over. The headman palmed them quickly and shoved them into a dirty linen haversack on the nearest of the boats.

'Tell him there's another five obols for him if he can tell us if he has heard anything about the location of the men who have been raiding the coast. Ask him if he has any idea where they might be hiding.'

The headman thought for a moment before responding.

'He says he will tell you what he knows if you pay him ten obols.'

'Cheeky bloody sod!' Macro chuckled. 'Cato, do you want me to persuade him to offer us a discount?'

'No. We need all the goodwill we can get. Let's not do Ajax's work for him, all right, Centurion?'

'Yes, sir.'

Cato handed over some more coins and waited for Hamedes to interpret.

'He says that a village was attacked on the next tributary to the west two days ago. Most of the villagers managed to escape, and fled to his village. That's why there are many more mouths to feed.'

'We must have missed something,' said Macro. 'Perhaps he didn't slip by us after all. Sir, we should turn back and search to the west.'

Cato was silent for a moment. His ships had scoured the coastline between Alexandria and here at the Mendesian mouth of the Nile. Every bay and inlet had been explored. Aside from the occasional evidence of one of Ajax's earlier raids, there had been no trace of the fugitives. It was possible that they had scuttled their ship and ventured deeper into the delta but Cato felt convinced that his enemy would not risk abandoning the warship, his only means of escape to sea. If the headman's information was accurate, that left two possibilities. Either Ajax had abandoned the delta and sailed north across the Mediterranean, or he had concealed his ship well enough to escape the eyes of Cato's flotilla.

'We'd better get back to the ships. Hamedes, give him my thanks, and tell him that we will not rest until we have destroyed Ajax. Then his people will be free to live in peace.'

The headman shrugged. 'He says that between the danger of Ajax and the burden of Roman taxes, what peace can a man hope for? There is no freedom. Not for the fellahin.'

'Not much we can do about that,' Macro said dismissively. 'Here, give me a hand with this basket.'

Hamedes made their farewells and took up the woven handle on one side of the basket while Macro took the other. Then, with Cato following, deep in thought, they made their way back down the narrow beach towards the point where the skiff and the marines lay out of sight.

'At least we'll have fresh meat on the menu tonight,' Macro mused happily as he glanced at the fish.

'They'll make good eating,' Hamedes grunted as he adjusted his grip.

'They'd better. I'd wager they're about the most expensive fish ever caught in Egypt,' Macro concluded ruefully.

That night, the crew of Sobek ate fried Nile carp, while the men of the other ships drawn up on the beach sullenly chewed on their hard tack. Cato and Macro were eating from their mess tins by the light of a cheery blaze of palm logs. Hamedes sat cross-legged on the far side of the fire, reading a prayer scroll he had borrowed from a temple in Alexandria. The fish, roasted over the fire, had been delicious, Macro reflected happily as he lowered his mess tin and licked his fingers. He glanced at Cato, and saw his face in profile, washed in a warm red glow, in deep concentration. Macro patted his chest and burped. 'Excuse me.'

'Hmmm?' Cato looked round absently.

'Ah, so you are still with us.'

'Yes. Of course.' Cato lowered his mess tin, and Macro saw that a good half of the fish remained. He gestured towards it. 'You finished with that?'

Cato nodded.

'Then do you mind if I, er…'

'Help yourself.'

Macro nodded his thanks and tucked in.

'Something's not right about what we were told by those fishermen, ' Cato announced quietly. 'I'm certain we searched the coast thoroughly, and we didn't find any trace of Ajax, or the ship.'

'Obviously we didn't look hard enough,' said Macro, between mouthfuls.

'It's possible. But if I was in Ajax's position, I would pick a base as far to the east of Alexandria as possible, away from the fleet.'

'If you were Ajax, surely you would want to be in striking distance of the main shipping lanes?'

'I'd not want to be within striking range of Alexandria. I'd want to be somewhere well off the main routes, away from settlements and with a clear escape route to sea if I needed to get out quickly. Somewhere well to the east of Alexandria. So we're not going back on our tracks tomorrow. We'll continue to the east.'

Macro swallowed quickly and set the mess tin down. 'Why? You heard them today. The most recent attack was to the west, and that's where they saw that ship heading.'

'True, I don't doubt what they say they saw, but I can't convince myself that Ajax is hiding in that direction. It doesn't make sense. Look, Macro, you know the man better than me.'

'Thanks for the reminder.'

'Ajax is as smart as new paint. He's also determined to cause us as much trouble as possible. You and me in particular, given that he blames us for the death of his father. Using our names was a nice touch.'

'You two know him then?' Hamedes interrupted, lowering his prayer scroll. 'You knew his father? How so?'

Macro smiled. 'Our man Ajax wasn't always a gladiator. In his earlier life he was a pirate, like his father, Telemachus. The prefect and I were part of the expedition sent to defeat Telemachus. We did the job. The pirate chief was crucified and his son was sold into slavery along with the rest of the prisoners we took. Only it turns out that he was picked to train as a gladiator before some fool bought him as a bodyguard and took him to Crete. Right now I wish we had nailed the bastard up alongside his father. We could have saved ourselves all this grief, and be back in Rome.'