The Gladiator

with a bemused expression. 'If you two have quite finished, can we get back to work?'

The first hours of the night were spent getting rid of as much cargo as possible. The work be came progressively harder as the survivors began to get deeper into the hold, where the heaviest items had been loaded. Much of the cargo had been thrown out of position and smashed against the hull or the underside of the cargo hatch. But slowly the Horus began to ride higher in the water, to the relief of all aboard. However, as they delved further into the hold, it was clear that the vessel had shipped a great deal of water.

'We can start bailing that out once we've shifted a bit more of the cargo, ' Macro decided. 'That'll keep us afloat.'

The mate scratched his chin. 'Yes, I hope so.'

Macro turned to him with an irritable expression. 'Problem?'

'Of course.' The mate sounded surprised.' The cargo's shifted all over the place, and the Horus has been capsized. We were lucky she righted herself. Very lucky Shows how well she was built that she's still afloat. But there's bound to be plenty of damage. Some of the seams will have been badly strained, and are probably leaking already'

Macro shrugged.' Then we'll just have to bail the water out faster than it gets in.'

'We can try'

'Bugger try; we will, ' Macro said firmly.

The mate nodded slightly. 'If you say so. But once it's safe enough I'll have to go into the hold and examine the hull for leaks. Then try to stop them up if I can.'

What's the danger of going in there now?'

'There's still loose cargo in there, Centurion. The swell's getting up and I don't fancy being crushed or buried alive if the Horus heaves too far to one side. We have to get as much of the cargo out as we can first.'

'Fair point. When it's safe to go in. I'll give you a hand.' Macro glanced round the deck and his gaze fixed on the shattered stump of the broken mast. 'Something else occurs to me.'

'Sir?'

'Keeping afloat is one problem, but how are we going to get this ship under way again?'

The mate indicated a spar lashed along one of the sides of the vessel. 'We'll have to jury — riga new mast. There's some spare cable and an old sail for'ard. Then we'll need to rig a new rudder and tiller from what's left of the cargo hatch. Should give us steerage way, but she'll be slow, and I doubt if we can weather any storm.' He shivered.

'Or any wave half the size of the one that hit us.'

'That'll have to do then. Soon as we get going we'll make for the nearest harbour on Crete.'

The mate thought a moment and nodded. 'Matala's the best bet.'

'Matala it is then. Now back to work.'

As soon as he felt that the hold was safe enough, the mate climbed carefully across the remaining cargo and waded towards the side of the hull. Macro lowered himself down and followed the mate, carrying a sack of tarry strips of old sailcloth. Hardly any of the light from the stars filtered into the hold, and the steady creak of the timbers and rushing swirl of water on both sides of the hull was unnerving.

'This way' the mate called. 'Stay close to me.'

'I will, don't worry about that.'

The mate headed forward, picking his way over the timber ribs of the Horus. Then he steadily worked his way aft, feeling for any leaks and holes. Every so often he paused to check and then asked Macro for a piece of cloth, and the two of them squatted in the cold water and did their best to stuff the thick material into the small gaps that had opened in the seams. When they had worked their way round the stern and back to the bows and groped their way to the cargo hatch, Macro climbed the ladder on to the deck and slumped down, cold and exhausted.

'Will that keep the water out?' he asked the mate.

'It'll help. It's the best we can dofor now. Once we have the jury mast rigged, we'll have to organise two watches to take turns at bailing the water out.'

'Fine. I'll lead one. Cato can take the other. I want you to concentrate on keeping the ship afloat and getting us to port.'

The mate sighed. 'I'll do the best I can, Centurion.'

'Of course you will. If the ship sinks and we all drown, then I'll have your bloody guts for garters.' He slapped the mate on the back.

'Let's get this mast up.'

With the Roman officers' help, the crewmen untied the spar and positioned the butt up against the stump of the mast. Then, with four ropes tied to the far end, Macro and five men heaved the spar up. The mate, with two strong men, kept the butt in position as Cato oversaw two teams of men heaving on the ropes. Slowly the spar rose up, carefully guided into a vertical position against the mast's stump as Macro and his men took the other two ropes to steady it. At once, the mate and his men hurriedly lashed the spar to the stump, and then tied more ropes around it, as tightly as possible, until satisfied that the makeshift mast was as firm as it could be. There was no rest for the crew as they improvised the necessary shrouds, sheets and a cross spar from the ship's sweep oars, lashed together. Lastly they fetched out the old sail from a locker and fastened it to the spar. The makeshift rudder was lowered over the stern and a man assigned to the tiller before the sail was carefully hoisted up the mast.

A light breeze filled the sail with a rippling series of thuds, as the mate looked on apprehensively. Then he gave the order to sheet home, and the Horus began to make way through the gentle swell, just as the first glimmer of light appeared on the horizon. On deck, those who were not helping to crew the ship lay down to rest, exhausted. Senator Sempronius cradled his daughter's head and shoulders in his lap and covered her with his cloak. Once the mate was satisfied that the ship was performing as well as it could under the rough repairs that had been carried out through the night, he came to report to Macro and Cato.

'We're holding a course along the coast, sir. Should make Matala before the end of the day. We can put in for repairs there.'

'Good job.' Macro smiled. 'You've done well.'

The mate was too tired for any modesty, and just nodded before he made his way aft to give his orders to the man at the tiller, and then leaned on the side rail. Macro rubbed his hands together and gazed towards the coming dawn. You hear that? Safe and sound on dry land by the end of the day'

Cato did not reply. He was staring at the distant coastline of Crete.

After a moment he stretched his shoulders and rubbed his neck. 'Safe and sound? I hope so.'

Macro frowned. 'What now? The prospect of being saved from a watery grave not good enough for you?'

'Oh, I'm pleased enough about that.' Cato forced a brief smile.

'The thing is, if that wave almost destroyed the ship, then the gods only know what it has done to the island of Crete…'

CHAPTER FOUR

As the Horus crept round the point, those on board got their first glimpse of the devastation that had been visited on the port of Matala by the giant wave. The warehouses and wharves had been smashed to pieces and the debris swept up the slope beyond where the densely packed houses had collapsed under the weight of the sea water surging ashore. Fishing boats and ships lay shattered across the rocks and cliffs either side of the bay. Further inland, above the high-water mark where the wave had come ashore, the destruction continued. Buildings large and small had been flattened, as if crushed under the foot of some titan. Further inland fires burned out of control and columns of smoke swirled into the afternoon sky. Only a handful of people were visible amongst the ruins, some desperately plucking away at the debris to find their loved ones and valuables. Others simply sat and stared at their surroundings in shock.

Macro swallowed. 'What in Hades happened here?'

'The wave, ' said Julia. 'It must have destroyed the port before it reached us.'