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The Legion
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Текст книги "The Legion"


Автор книги: Simon Scarrow



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Текущая страница: 4 (всего у книги 28 страниц)

CHAPTER FIVE

Hamedes was tall and solidly built. His bruised head had been shaved, but several days without any attention had left it with a dark furze. Somewhat younger than Cato, his eyes were deep-set either side of the wide curved nose that was typical of the native race. He wore a plain red military tunic, which Cato guessed must have been lent to him. He stood before them barefoot and unbowed. He spoke in Greek, fluently.

'You sent for me, sir,' he announced, somehow making the last word sound like a condescension.

'Indeed.' The governor nodded. 'I'd like you to tell your story to these two officers.'

'Why? I've already given a statement, which was taken down by your scribe. It's not necessary, a waste of time.'

'There's no need for the high and mighty act,' said Macro with a frown that would have unnerved a less easily subdued man than Hamedes. 'Just be a good lad and give us the details.'

The priest looked Macro up and down. 'And who might I be addressing, if I may ask?'

Macro puffed his chest out. 'Centurion-'

'Enough!' Cato intervened. 'You are here to answer our questions, not ask your own.'

'Really? I thought I was here because I am a witness to Roman aggression against the temple of Isis at Keirkut. The temple is now a ruin, and its servants are carrion meat for the vultures. I am here to see that they have justice, sir.' He paused briefly. 'That is, if those who come from Rome are familiar with the concept. Meanwhile, it seems that I am a prisoner.'

Macro glanced at Cato and spoke quietly. 'Quite full of himself, isn't he? If he wants to play us around then I'm quite happy to take on the role of interrogator.'

'Not yet,' Cato replied quietly. 'Let's see what we can learn by less obtrusive means, eh?'

He turned to Hamedes. 'The governor has asked us to join his investigation into the incident. We could read the report, but I would prefer to hear it directly from your own lips. It would be of considerable assistance to us in seeking the justice you desire.'

The young priest stared back, and then nodded. 'Very well. I am prepared to cooperate on that basis.'

'How good of you,' Macro muttered, and Cato shot him a warning look.

'Tell them what you told me, Hamedes,' said Petronius. 'If you please.'

'Very well.' He closed his eyes briefly to compose his thoughts. 'It was the last hour of the day when they came. The high priest had begun the ceremony of Ra's entry into the underworld. The senior priests were by the altar on the river landing. The rest of us were kneeling on the bank of the river, around the sacred barge. That's when I first noticed the sail. A Roman warship had entered the river from the sea and was making for the eastern bank of the tributary. The high priest seemed to pay it no attention and continued with the ceremony, preparing the bushel of wheat to be burned as an offering to Ra, the most wise and merciful.' Hamedes briefly clasped his hands together and bowed his head. 'The ship continued towards the landing. At the last moment they took in their sail and turned to come alongside the steps leading down into the Nile. At once the Romans threw down a ramp and came ashore.'

'Were they in uniform?' asked Cato. 'Like myself?'

'They wore tunics like yours but they were white. They had swords, shields and helmets like those worn by your auxiliaries.'

'Marines then,' said Macro. 'It fits with what we know.'

Cato nodded. 'Carry on. What happened next?'

'They surrounded us and forced us to gather around the barge of Ra, most wise and merciful.' Hamedes repeated his earlier gesture. 'Except for the high priest. They took him aside, to be questioned by their commander. He came ashore last.'

'Can you describe him to us?' Cato said evenly, ignoring the glance that Petronius shot towards him.

Hamedes frowned. 'Tall, muscular. Brown eyes. More Greek-looking than Roman, but then that's to be expected in Egypt. He wore scale armour, a plumed helmet and a blue cloak. And he had a sword, the same kind that all you Romans carry.'

'You saw him up close, then?'

'Yes, I was near him when he questioned the high priest.'

'So you would recognise his face again, if you were to see him?'

'I am sure of it.'

'Fine.' Cato waved a hand. 'Please continue.'

Hamedes nodded. 'He told the priest that he was acting under the orders of the governor at Alexandria. The officer announced that a new edict had been issued confiscating all the gold and silver held in the temples. He demanded that the high priest show him where our vault is. The high priest refused. He was angry. He told the officer that the temple was sacred ground and that the Romans were defiling it. He ordered the officer to take his men and withdraw. Instead the officer told his men to bring him one of the junior priests. Then he drew his sword and beheaded the man. He asked the high priest where the vault was again, and killed another man when he did not get a reply. He continued killing us, one by one, until finally the high priest spoke. He cursed the Roman, then took him to the vault. The Romans made four of us carry the caskets of gold and silver coin to his ship. Then, when we had finished, he began to kill the rest, starting with the high priest.' Hamedes paused, and when he spoke again there was a tremor in his voice. 'I saw the blood run down the steps and into the Nile…'

'Did you try to escape?' asked Cato. 'Did you hide perhaps?'

'No. I was too scared to move. I think we all were. Before I realised it, I was the last one alive. He came close to me, closer than we are now, and stared at me in silence for a while. I was sure that he would kill me, so I turned to the west to offer one final prayer to Ra, most wise and merciful-'

'Yes, thank you,' Macro interrupted. 'I think we can take that as read. Get on with it.'

Hamedes glared briefly at Macro. 'I prayed, then he grabbed my shoulder and pulled me round to face him. He said that Rome had had enough of the insolence of our priests. He said that the Emperor had decreed that it was time for the old religions to be erased. He told me that I had been spared so that I might spread the message. The officer said that I was to remember his name, and that he was acting according to the orders of your Emperor, Claudius.'

'Most wise and merciful,' Macro muttered, and shook his head apologetically as Cato frowned at him.

Cato turned back and fixed the priest with a steady eye. 'And what was the name of this officer?'

'As I told your scribe,' Hamedes said to Petronius and then nodded towards the corner. 'He said he was a prefect. Prefect Quintus Licinius Cato.'

'Are you certain?'

'Yes. He made me repeat it.'

'And then?'

'He struck me on the head with the guard of his sword. I was knocked cold. When I came to I was lying on the bodies of the other priests, my robes soaked in their blood. The Romans had gone. They had set fire to the priest's quarters, and they had filled the temple with wood, palm leaves and oil and set it alight. The paintings on the wall, the sacred records of the temple, all burned away. It blazed right through the night and in the morning all that remained was a scorched hulk.' Hamedes winced at the memory. 'I was alone. The temple was gone. All that was left for me to do was come here and seek justice. That, or revenge. I swear, by all the gods of my people, that I will seek out and kill this Roman, this Prefect Cato.'

'The man who attacked your temple is no Roman,' Cato said firmly. 'He is a slave, a fugitive, masquerading as a Roman. He has been murdering your people along the Egyptian coast for the best part of a month now.'

'He was a Roman,' Hamedes replied vehemently. 'Do you expect me to believe that he isn't? Were his men pretending to be Roman too? Was his ship pretending to be a Roman warship? What kind of fool do you take me for?'

'The warship was real. And those were Roman uniforms he and his men were wearing. The man's name is Ajax. He captured the ship and killed its crew. We have been pursuing him for some months now.'

Hamedes stared at Cato suspiciously. 'I don't believe you.' Petronius nodded towards Cato. 'Have you ever seen this officer before? Or the man sitting beside him?'

'No.'

'Be certain.'

'I am sure of it. I have never met them until now.'

'Then would it surprise you if I was to say that this man is Prefect Cato, and his companion is Centurion Macro?'

Hamedes shook his head. 'What trickery is this?'

'There's no trickery,' the governor told him. 'Well, none here and now, at least. This man is Prefect Cato and what he says is the truth. The one who attacked your temple and butchered your companions was an imposter. He intends to provoke your people into rebellion. He aims to fill their hearts with a desire for revenge. And he has been succeeding admirably. Now you know the truth. I need you to help us, Hamedes.'

The Egyptian still looked bewildered and Petronius softened his voice. 'You are a priest. Your people respect you and your word carries weight with them. I need you to tell them the truth. And not just them, but the Alexandrians as well.'

'What do you propose, sir?'

'I will summon the leaders of the merchants' and shipowners' guilds. I'll give them an audience in the palace and you can tell them what you have learned here.'

'Why should they believe me? You must know how the Alexandrians look down on us. Why would they take the word of an Egyptian?'

'Because I suspect that the ordinary Egyptians despise the Romans even more than the Egyptians are despised by the Greeks. If you take our side, it will give the Greeks something to think about. Better that the truth about Ajax comes from you than from us.'

Hamedes nodded. 'I understand. I just hope that I am believed.'

The following evening, Governor Petronius sat on an elaborate formal chair on a dais at the end of the audience chamber. He was flanked by Cato and Macro to one side and two scribes sitting on mats on the other side of the dais, one to take down the words of the governor, another the comments from his guests. As was his custom, Petronius ensured that there would be a record of the meeting since it might well become part of his defence at a subsequent trial in Rome should he ever be charged with corruption or incompetence.

The audience chamber was lined with towering columns with capitals in the characteristic lotus flower design of Egypt. This was the same audience chamber where the Ptolemies had handed out their decrees to their kingdom. The last of their line, Cleopatra, had played host first to Gaius Julius Caesar and then to Mark Antony in this hall, seated on the same dais as the present governor. However, the ceremonial glitter and solemn speeches of amity between two great powers had long since faded into history. In their place stood a crowd of anxious and angry Alexandrians, held in check by a line of stern-faced Roman legionaries. Hamedes had finished relating his experience and confirmed that the man who had claimed to be Prefect Cato was not the same as the man at the governor's side. Further witnesses who had been spared by Ajax were produced to support the governor's claim that the raiders were imposters.

At first only a few voices were raised to denounce the governor, accusing him of concealing renegades within the ranks of the Roman forces occupying Egypt. Petronius listened to the arguments for a moment, until too many voices were calling out for any sense to be made of what was said. He leaned towards Macro.

'Centurion, be so good as to shut them up for me.'

'Yes, sir.' Macro took a deep breath. He cupped his hands to his mouth and roared, 'QUIET!'

The chamber was designed to echo the commands from the throne, and in any case, Macro's parade-ground voice could stop a recruit dead in his tracks a couple of hundred paces away. The tongues of the Alexandrians were swiftly stilled, and when all were silent, Petronius spoke.

'I can assure you that the men who have been raiding the coastal settlements and raiding your ships are not Romans. The whereabouts of the vessels of the Alexandrian fleet are accounted for. The perpetrators are a separate element, and their leader has been identified as the fugitive slave, Ajax.' Petronius paused. 'With that in mind, I trust I can rely on you to return to your communities and help quash the rumours that are sweeping through every quarter of the city. That is the responsible course of action. If anyone here is discovered to have perpetuated the lie that Roman forces have been involved in these raids, I will have no choice but to have them charged with sedition. Those found guilty will face confiscation of their property and exile, or death.'

A handful of the crowd fell to mumbling, before a man stepped to the front and raised a hand. 'Sir, may I speak?'

Petronius nodded.

'It is one thing to discover the truth behind the raids, and quite another to put an end to them. This fugitive and his gang are still at large. What do you propose to do about this threat to our trade? I can tell you that word of our losses is spreading to neighbouring provinces. Shipowners are already refusing to sail to and from Alexandria, and those that do are charging ruinous fees. I am sure that I speak for every merchant here when I say that I pay my taxes and in return I expect my business to be protected to the fullest extent.'

'Of course!' Petronius responded loudly. 'And I am sure that you are equally concerned to protect the lives of the crewmen of the ships carrying your goods.'

The merchant shifted uncomfortably as he nodded. 'Naturally. It goes without saying that the well-being of our employees and shipping contractors is also close to our hearts.'

'Assuming they actually have hearts,' Macro muttered under his breath.

'That's quite an assumption,' Cato replied softly.

Petronius glanced at them and then turned his attention back to the Alexandrians' spokesman as the latter continued. 'Sir, the question I asked is unanswered. What are you going to do about this renegade?'

'The matter is in hand. Prefect Cato is leading a special task force with orders to find and destroy the renegade slave.'

'Clearly the prefect hasn't had much luck so far!' a voice called from the crowd. There was an angry chorus of agreement before Petronius held up his hands and demanded that they hear him out.

'I have utmost confidence in Prefect Cato. He is the best man for the job and it will only be a matter of days before he completes his mission.'

'How many days?' another merchant asked. 'It's already been more than a month since the trouble started. Another month will kill my business.'

There were more shouts, against a backdrop of bitter disgruntlement.

'Quiet there!' the prefect called out anxiously. 'Quiet, I said! Prefect Cato will have every military resource in Alexandria made available to him in order to facilitate the capture or destruction of Ajax.'

Macro nudged his friend. 'That's news to me.'

'And me.' Cato smiled faintly. 'Most welcome news.'

'What else could I say?' Petronius said irritably as he conferred with the two officers in his private quarters after the audience. 'You heard 'em. Their mood was almost rebellious. A number of them have influential contacts in Rome. If that isn't bad enough, the last two emperors have handed out Egyptian estates to their favourites as if they were party snacks. Even Narcissus has a few parcels of land in the delta. The trade in grain and other produce from those estates is being put in jeopardy by Ajax. Narcissus is the kind of man of influence that I'd rather not get on the wrong side of. So it's vital that Narcissus and his friends know that I am doing all that I can to keep a lid on the tensions here in Alexandria.'

'But you're not going to actually give us what we need to do the job, are you, sir?' said Macro.

'No. I can't. I told you, our forces are stretched thinly as it is. I can't afford to send them on some damned wild goose chase.'

'It wouldn't be a wild goose chase if we had more men and more ships,' Macro persisted. 'We could cover the ground more quickly, and be there in overwhelming strength when we eventually find Ajax.'

'If you find him.'

'We'll find him,' Cato said firmly. 'You have my word on it.'

'What if he quits the delta?' Petronius asked. 'What if he sails north, or west? What then? You'll be wasting time chasing shadows.'

'He won't leave the area. Why should he? He's doing a great job of stirring up local feeling against Rome. He'll stay here as long as he thinks he is undermining our interests in Egypt. Give us the fleet and we can find him and trap him in short order.'

'Give you the fleet?' Petronius smiled mockingly. 'I'm already having to use the marines to supplement the city watch. Besides, every available man is needed to counter the Nubians.'

'I need the fleet,' Cato insisted.

Petronius breathed in sharply and briefly considered the demand. 'I'll give you six more ships. But only for one month. That's as long as I can spare them.'

Cato considered the offer. Eight ships in all should be enough to deal with Ajax and his men, but the limited time was a problem. 'One month might not be enough.'

'That's all you have. After that I want you and your men to join the command of the legate of the Twenty-Second at Diospolis Magna. I suggest you get moving, Prefect.'

CHAPTER SIX

'It's like hunting for a grain of sand in a sack of salt,' Macro complained as he followed Cato and Hamedes along the strip of shingle towards a handful of beached fishing boats. 'Bloody Ajax is all but invisible.'

'We will find him,' Cato replied evenly. 'Whatever it takes.'

'It's not whatever that matters, but whenever. The month is almost up, Cato. If we don't find him in the next five days we will have to give up the search.'

'I am well aware of that, Centurion.'

Macro pressed his lips together in a thin line. The failure to find Ajax had tested his friend sorely, and Cato had recently developed a strategy of referring to Macro's rank when he grew weary of discussion or did not want to be contradicted. So they continued in silence walking steadily down the beach towards the fishermen, who were absorbed in the task of plucking the writhing silver fish from their nets and tossing them into baskets. Hamedes went first, ready to speak to the natives in their own tongue and reassure them that the three of them posed no threat. The priest had willingly volunteered to join the hunt when Cato had asked him to act as their guide and translator. The temple at Keirkut had been his life. Recruited to the priesthood when barely a child, it was the only family he had ever known and the desire for revenge burned in his veins.

Cato and Macro wore only their tunics and belts, with the dagger scabbards tucked out of sight behind their backs. Hamedes wore the simple flowing robe of the fellahin. The fishing boats had been sighted by one of the skiffs that Cato had sent in to patrol the Mendesian mouth of the Nile. The rest of the flotilla lay in a shallow cove by the sea. Cato and the others had landed out of sight of the fishermen and removed their armour before approaching them.

Due to the predations of Ajax, it had been difficult to gather any intelligence from the smaller Egyptian settlements along the coast. At the first sight of a Roman sail, or men in Roman uniform, the villagers had simply fled. The only news that Cato had gleaned from the locals had come from chance interceptions of the few vessels that had dared to put to sea, and the handful of times when they had been able to approach people without causing them to run and hide, as now.

'They've seen us,' Macro muttered as one of the fishermen looked up when they had closed to within a hundred paces. At once the man called out to his friends and they dropped their nets and snatched up their clubs and gutting knives. They were torn between abandoning their catch and running, or staying to confront the three men approaching them. There were twelve of them, Macro counted, odds of four to one, if there was any trouble. The fishermen were thin and sinewy and were not professional fighters. Even so, the overwhelming advantage in numbers lent them sufficient courage to stand their ground as they warily watched the three men making their way towards them.

'Tell them we mean no harm,' Cato said to Hamedes. 'We want to buy their catch, and talk.'

Hamedes nodded and called out a light-hearted greeting. The nearest of the fishermen replied sharply, holding out his hand, clearly commanding them to stop. There followed a brief exchange before Hamedes spoke softly to Cato. 'I've told them who we are. The one speaking for them is the headman of their village. He asks if we are alone. I said we are.'

Cato nodded uneasily and hoped that the marines he had left back at the skiff did as they were told and kept out of sight. 'Ask him if he has seen any other Romans recently.'

There was a lengthy exchange in which the headman jabbed his hand downriver. A moment later the priest turned back to Cato. 'A warship entered the mouth of the river several days ago. It stayed for the night and left the next morning.'

'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.'

'But we didn't,' Cato cut in. 'And now we must finish the job we started long ago. As I said, Ajax is clever, and he's consumed by hate. But I doubt he would throw his life away in some reckless act of revenge. So he will have a plan to clear out of the Nile delta if there's a danger he could be trapped here. That's why I think he is further to the east.' Cato unrolled his reed matting and lay down, pulling his cloak over him. 'In the morning, we sail east to Casium and then work our way back towards Alexandria.'

The next day the fleet put out to sea and steered east under full sail. A stiff breeze was blowing and the trierarch of the Sobek advised Cato to give the order to take in a reef in order to relieve the strain on the sail, mast and rigging. They were close to the deadline that Petronius had set for abandoning the search and Cato was determined to make the most of the time that remained. He ordered the trierarch to remain at full sail, and signal the rest of the ships to follow suit.

As the sun sank over the horizon, the flotilla reached the small port of Casium and spent the night taking on water and fresh provisions. At dawn, they set sail, heading back towards Alexandria. It was Cato's intention to search the coastline thoroughly. If Ajax was hiding anywhere, it would be along this stretch of the delta. He was sure of it.


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