themselves!'
His anger was taken up by others and the air was filled with jeers and shouts. A mother raised her infant up for the passing horsemen to see and cried out in a shrill voice that her baby would soon die unless he was properly fed. Cato was tempted to offer some reassurance, and promise that they would receive a fair share of the rations, but realised it would be a pointless gesture. His voice would be drowned out by the din assaulting the column on all sides, and it would only make him look weak.
Distracted by the baying of the crowd, he failed to notice Atticus edging his way along the grain sacks piled on the leading wagon.
When he came to the end of his chain, Atticus stopped and continued on his stomach until he could reach the end of the wagon.
Cato's gaze turned away from the crowd and he started as he saw Atticus lying full length.
What's he doing?' asked one of the auxiliaries marching beside Cato.
Bracing his feet, Atticus thrust his arms against the rearmost sacks of grain.
'Stop him!' Cato shouted, springing towards the wagon. But it was too late. The first of the sacks on the top of the pile tipped over the end and toppled on to the road. It landed with a soft thud and split.
Grain exploded across the road with a swift, soft hiss. A second sack was already falling as Cato caught up with the wagon and hauled himself up. He saw Atticus struggling to push yet more of the grain on to the road, and stamped down hard on his arm. Atticus cried out as the nailed studs bit into his flesh and snatched his other arm back to try to shift Cato's boot. Leaning down, Cato hauled the third sack back so that it was in no danger of falling. Before he could think to do anything else, there was an excited shout from the crowd and a man darted between the horses and went down on his knees to claw the grain into a fold in his tunic. At once others followed suit and the auxiliaries were shoved aside as people frantically pressed through to get at the spilled grain.
Leaning down, Cato glared into Atticus's eyes and clamped a hand round the man's throat. 'Try anything else, and I swear I will cut your throat where you lie. Understand?'
Atticus was gasping as he nodded. Cato clenched a little tighter for a moment to emphasise his threat before he released his grip and turned towards the chaotic scene behind the wagon. The vehicle was still moving forward, behind the gap cleared for it by the decurion and his men. But the desperate surge of the crowd towards the grain had split the column in two, forcing the following wagons and their escort to stop.
Cato turned to Macro and called out, ' Keep going! I'll take charge of the rest.'
As Macro nodded, Cato jumped down and drew his sword, bracing his feet to maintain his balance as he was jostled by the crowd. He forced his way through to the rear half of the column, standing stationary before the heaving mass of civilians scrabbling away at the grain.
'Auxiliaries! On me! Form a wedge!'
Cato took up position in the middle of the road, and the men of the Twelfth formed up at his back in a chevron. When he saw that the men were ready, Cato took a deep breath and called out, as loud as he could,'Shields front, present spears!'
There was a clatter as the shafts of their spears rapped against the shield rims, and an arrowhead of sharp iron points faced the crowd.
'Advance!' Cato bellowed and then called the time: ' One… two… one… two!'
The wedge tramped steadily forward and faces in the crowd began to look up in the direction of the approaching formation. Some snatched a last handful of grain and then turned to push their way to safety.
'They'll murder us!' a shrill voice cried out, and there were panicked shouts as the civilians scrambled out of the path of the oncoming soldiers. Cato called back over his shoulder,'Get the wagons moving! Don't stop for anything until we reach the acropolis.'
As the wheels rumbled into life behind him, Cato continued the advance, the boots of the auxiliaries grinding over the scattered grain. Before them an old man had slipped to the ground and was struggling to rise to his feet. One of the soldiers thrust his shield out, knocking the man on to his side. He landed heavily on his knee and then rolled into a ball, hugging the joint as he groaned in agony. The auxiliary lowered his spear tip and Cato thrust his sword out towards the man.
'No! Leave him be and step over him.'
The old man was left on the ground as the formation passed over him, and then looked up in terror as the ground trembled under the weight of the heavy wheels of the wagons. The horses stepped nimbly over the prostrate form, but the wheels were insensitive to his plight, and Cato glanced back at the sound of the thin cry of dread to see the old man wriggle to one side at the last moment. Cato continued to advance along the road as the other civilians hurried to get out of the way of the lethal spear points.
Just before the column reached the remains of the gate, a stone flew out of the crowd and clattered off the side of a cavalryman's shield. Moments later more followed, mixed with mud and turds, spattering the men around the wagons.
'Ignore them!' Cato shouted.' Keep moving!'
The rear of the column entered the town and continued along the main route, now cleared of rubble by the work gangs Macro had organised. Some members of the crowd followed them a short distance, still throwing missiles, before they gave up and backed off, shouting final insults before returning to their shelters. Macro was waiting for them on the ramp leading up to the acropolis. As Cato approached, brushing filth from his shoulder, Macro smiled ruefully.
'Like I said, we're always in the shit.'
'It wasn't pretty, but at least we got the wagons through,' said Cato.
'There's enough supplies for a few more days.'
'And then we have to go out and repeat the whole thing all over again.' Macro turned towards the first wagon and stabbed his finger at Atticus.' Nice work, mate. You almost got some of your people killed. Happy now?'
Atticus shook his head.' Not my fault.'
'Oh, but it was. If you hadn't played your fancy trick back there, there wouldn't have been any trouble.' Macro gestured to two of his men. 'Take him back to the prison. No rations for him for the next two days.'
'What?'
'The price you pay for the grain that you caused to be wasted.'
As Atticus was unchained from the wagon and led away, Cato surveyed the refugee camp and shook his head wearily. 'It's bad enough having to deal with the rebels, without making enemies of the civilians.'
'We're in a thankless job here, Cato old son,' Macro agreed, and waved the rest of the column forward up the slope to the gates of the acropolis. 'Even so, we have to do what we can to save these people.'
'Yes,' Cato replied, and was silent for a moment before he continued quietly, 'I hate to say it, but unless we get some help from outside, and get it soon, the province is going to collapse into complete chaos. It'll be a bloodbath and there's precious little we can do to prevent it.'
CHAPTER TWELVE
Do you think Portillus is up to the job?' asked Cato as they rode out of Matala the following morning. Behind the two centurions followed the cavalry escort. Julia sat alongside the driver on a small cart halfway along the column of mounted men.
'He knows what he has to do,' Macro replied. 'I gave him his orders last night. Keep the people fed. Keep the rebel slaves at bay.
Simple enough. Even Portillus can handle that. Anything else comes up, then he sends a message to Gortyna and asks for instructions. And at least he won't have to contend with Atticus.' Macro nodded to the rear of the column, where the Greek troublemaker was riding between two burly men.
'What do you intend to do with him?'
'He's tough and has courage, and provided he keeps his mouth shut I reckon we can put him on the strength of one of the cohorts at Gortyna.'
'What if he disagrees?'
'In that case, I'll offer him a choice. Atticus can wear the uniform, or he can wear chains.'
