The Eagle In the Sand - Scarrow Simon (читать книги онлайн без сокращений txt) 📗

CHAPTER TWENTY

'Postumus has escaped.'

Cato and Macro were standing to one side of the gateway as the exhausted horsemen rode into the fort, covered in dust. A few of them still wore bloodstained strips of linen from the superficial wounds they had suffered in the fight with the desert raiders.

'What happened?' Macro asked.

'Postumus fell ill. Or at least he seemed to. He collapsed and started vomiting and foaming at the mouth. The duty officer had him moved to the hospital block. By the time I was informed the next morning Postumus had gone. So had one of the horses. He must have got out using one of the sally ports. But they were all locked from the inside when I checked them.'

'Well he didn't ride a horse over the wall, so someone had to open a gate for him.'

'I'd guess that some of our officers are still loyal to Scrofa,' Cato said quietly.

'Scrofa? Is he still here?'

'Yes. Under extra guard now.'

'How long ago was this?'

'The day after you left.'

Macro stared at Cato and they shared an instant understanding of the situation. 'Shit,' Macro said softly. 'You know where he's gone, don't you?'

'I'd guess north to Syria. To find Longinus.'

'Where else?' Macro thumped his fist against his thigh. 'If he rode hard he could reach the Governor in four, maybe five, days. So we can assume that Longinus knows that I've taken command here. That means he knows about the imperial authority and what that implies.'

Cato nodded. 'What do you think he'll do?'

'How the fuck should I know?' Macro suddenly felt more tired than ever with news of this latest setback. He needed a rest. A bath and a rest, he decided. Then he shook off the feeling. He was the prefect in charge of this cohort and could not afford to let his guard down while he was in command.Too much rested on it. Macro rubbed his cheek and looked at Cato. 'What do you think?'

'Once Longinus knows the score he's going to want to see us.To find how much we know, and how much we suspect. My guess is that he's already sent a messenger to summon us to report to him in Antioch.'

'The messenger could arrive at any moment.'

'Yes.'

'Shit.' Macro shook his head. 'One bloody thing after another. We can't spare the time to see Longinus. Not with Bannus on the loose.'

'But we can't ignore the summons. Not without throwing into question the Governor's authority.'

'Our authority overrides his, surely?'

'Of course it does. But I doubt that Narcissus would look favourably on us if we openly confronted the most powerful man outside Rome.What if we precipitated the plot that we were sent out here to investigate and prevent? If Longinus does demand that we report to him, I think we'd better go.'

'Maybe,' Macro responded, before he snatched at one hopeful possibility. 'Of course, Postumus might have fallen foul of some of Bannus' men. After all, he'd have been riding alone. I doubt that any of the villages round here would offer him a safe shelter for the night.'

'If Bannus had taken him I think we'd already know about it. We'd have had a ransom demand, or Bannus would have made some kind of example of him, so that we'd know the fate of any Romans who fall into his hands. Anyway, this is wishful thinking.We should assume that he got through to Longinus. And we should assume that we'll know his response to the news any time.'

'Unless the messenger is taken by Bannus.'

'Now you're clutching at straws.' A smile flickered on Cato's lips before the serious expression returned. 'Let's assume that the summons gets through. In that case we'd better make sure that the cohort will be safe in our absence.'

'Safe?'

'As in making sure that Scrofa doesn't resume control. I think we'd better take him with us. Leave Parmenion as acting prefect.'

'Can we trust him?'

'I think so. One other thing. If we are ordered to report to Longinus I think we should have a little talk with Scrofa as soon as possible and find out how far he is implicated in any plot, and see what he can tell us about Longinus.'

'All right then, we'll speak to Scrofa,' Macro agreed. 'But after I've bathed and rested. I'm too tired to think straight at the moment.'

Cato frowned for a moment in disappointment, before he realised that his friend was truly exhausted. 'Very well, sir. I'll see to it that you're not disturbed.'

Macro smiled and patted Cato on the arm. 'Thanks.'

He turned away and started walking stiffly towards his quarters, then paused and looked back at Cato. 'Any developments on the Bannus front?'

'Nothing, whilst you've been gone, sir. In fact there's been no sighting of the brigands at all. I've got mounted patrols out looking for them. They're due back tomorrow. If there's any news of Bannus, we'll find out then.'

Macro nodded wearily, and headed off towards the comforts of the prefect's quarters.

That night, Macro and Cato descended the narrow stairs to the cells that lay under one corner of the headquarters building. Cato carried a torch to light their path and it glimmered on the rough stonework as the two officers made their way along the line of cells. Only one was occupied, at the far end, guarded by two auxiliaries.They were sitting on stools, playing dice, and looking up as Macro and Cato approached they jumped up and stood to attention.

'At ease,' Cato said and nodded to the door. 'How's the prisoner?'

'Quiet enough, sir. He's given up demanding better food and quarters.'

'Good.' Cato nodded. 'Because he's not getting them. Open the door. We need to speak to him.'

'Yes, sir.' The guard eased the heavy iron bolt back, lifted the latch and pulled the door open. Cato ducked his head under the lintel and entered the cell, with Macro close behind him. Inside was a small but neat chamber with a bed on either side, and a slop bucket by the door. High up was a grated window which let in light during the day. Now that it was dark a single oil lamp gleamed from a bracket above the bed on which Scrofa lay, reading a scroll by the meagre illumination of the wavering flame. He sat up as they entered, eyeing them warily.

'What do you want?'

Macro smiled. 'Just a little chat, Scrofa. That's all.' He sat down on the bed opposite Scrofa. Cato placed his torch in a wall bracket and sat down next to Macro. Scrofa's gaze flickered nervously from one to the other.

'No need for alarm, Scrofa,' said Macro. 'We just need to talk.'

'For now,' Cato added darkly.

'That'll do,' Macro said with a look of irritation. 'There's no need to frighten the man.'

'I'm not frightened.' Scrofa tried to sound brave as he glared at Cato. 'I'm not scared of you, boy.'

Cato leaned forward and grasped the handle of his dagger, causing Scrofa to flinch back with a gasp of panic.

Macro clamped a hand on his friend's arm.'Easy there!'

For a moment the three men were still: Cato leaning forward with a look of intense, cruel anger, Scrofa staring back anxiously and Macro struggling to keep a straight face at the act his friend was putting on. Or at least, he assumed that Cato was putting it on. He cleared his throat.

'It's time you were honest with us, Scrofa.'

'Honest?'

'Yes. I'm sure that it doesn't come easily to you, but you will need to tell us the truth. Now then, in view of the rather unusual manner in which I replaced you as prefect of the Second Illyrian, and given that the Emperor's personal authority was attached to the document you saw, I assume that you have realised who Cato and I are working for.'

'Narcissus.'

'The very man. As you know full well, it is his job to look after the security of the Emperor. So you'll understand why he is a little perturbed by the turn of events out here in the east. Particularly concerning the unwholesome ambitions of your friend, Cassius Longinus – the Governor of Syria.'