'How charming!' Ajax laughed. He came round the cage and crouched opposite Macro before he rattled the bars. 'Don't count on it, eh?'
Then he rose and padded off towards his tent. Macro turned his attention to Julia. Her eyes were wide with terror.
'Macro! Don't let him take me. Please don't let him take me.'
Macro shook his head. 'I–I can't help you.'
'Macro, please!' Her lips trembled and she began to cry. 'Please don't let him! Please!'
He tried to shut the sound out, driven half mad by the knowledge that there was nothing, nothing at all that he could do to protect her.
Julia's pleas suddenly stopped as their guard strode towards them. The guard unlocked and opened the end of the cage. He drew his sword and pointed it at Macro.
'Stay back there, you!'
With his spare hand he grasped Julia's arm and dragged her from the cage, before kicking the door shut and sheathing his sword. As he locked the door, Macro scrambled over to the bars nearest Julia and shouted,'Julia! Look at me! Look at me!'
She winced as if he had struck her, and then turned fearfully as the guard reached down to grip her under the arms.
'Julia,' Macro continued with icy intensity,'If you get the chance, kill him!'
'Yes.' She nodded. 'Yes.'
Then the guard pulled her to her feet and half dragged and half carried her across the ground towards Ajax's tent.
Macro leaned back against the bars, praying for the gods to release him from this torment, one way or another.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Cato and his men did not reach the small cove at the head of the bay until the second hour of the night. There was no moon, and even though a local shepherd had led the way, it was hard to follow the narrow track that wound along the side of the hills and then down a steep cliff to the shore. Like the others, Cato carried a haversack with a dagger and a sword bundled together and firmly tied to an empty waterskin. Although every man who served in the legions was trained to swim after a fashion, most never be came proficient. Cato's officers had selected just over five hundred men capable of swimming the length of the bay, nearly two miles. The three men chosen by Fulvius marched directly behind Cato as he followed the shepherd. They had readily volunteered when asked, and Cato felt confident that they would serve him well. One of Fulvius's choices was an auxiliary optiofrom Gortyna who knew the area and had asked to join the column when it marched from the city.
When the man had been brought before him, Cato had looked up from his desk with raised eyebrows.
Atticus.'
'Yes, sir.' Atticus nodded.
'I have to say, this is something of a surprise. I wouldn't have expected you to be at the head of the queue to save Macro.'
'Nothing would give me greater satisfaction than seeing his face when I rescue him, sir.'
Cato stared at the man for a moment before he responded. 'That's an unusual form of revenge to choose.'
'You know the man well enough, sir. It'll drive him mad.'
Cato laughed. 'You have the measure of him, Atticus. Very well, then. I'll see you later tonight. Dismissed.'
The other two men selected to join Cato were legionaries, Vulso and Musa, solid men with good records who were also chasing promotion. Musa had been issued with a buccina, which he carried in the same bundle as his sword belt.
The long, straggling line of legionaries picked their way down the cliff, and emerged on to the coarse sand of the beach. Cato paid off the shepherd, and as soon as he had the purse, with its fifty silver denarians — a small fortune for a night's work — he scuttled along the beach and disappeared up another track. As the men reached the beach, one of Cato's officers counted off each section and sent them to prepare for the attack. The force would swim in two columns, one closer to the shore as they made for the beached ships. Cato had been anxious to ensure that each force would remain close together, and the section leaders were tasked with keeping a regular count of their men. The soldiers heading for the beached ships would enter the water at close intervals to make sure that there was a small gap between each section. The first section would make for the furthest ship, and once the intervals were taken into account, it was Cato's hope that the teams would begin boarding the grain ships at roughly the same moment. With luck they would all be taken before the rebels on the shore had realised the danger and could react.
Cato would lead the other column directly towards the cluster of grain ships anchored in the middle of the bay. There was no need for his detachment to be staggered. They would have to keep together, so as not to tackle the ships in a piecemeal fashion.
Once the last of the men had descended from the cliff and had removed their boots and tunics, Cato quietly gave the word to enter the water. Each man inflated his waterskin and then, holding it in his arms, together with the bundle containing his weapons, waded into the sea with the rest of his section as the order was given. Wearing only a loincloth, Cato shivered in the cool night air. He had decided to swim close to the front of the column and allowed two sections to go ahead before he stepped forward with his three men. He had not mentioned to the other officers that he was a poor swimmer. He was ashamed of the fact, and though he had made some improvement since basic training, he was still far short of the standard of capable veterans like Macro.
There was a faint swell, and the waves crunched and hissed on the sand. Cato firmed up his resolve and strode down towards the surf.
The water was cold and he gave a gasp as he waded out into the sea.
A wave slapped up against his chest and he took the opportunity to launch himself forwards, submerging momentarily before shaking his head and kicking out into the bay as he held on to the waterskin bobbing on the surface in front of him.
'Atticus,' Cato called out as loudly as he dared.' On me.'
'Yes, sir,' Atticus replied with a splutter, a short distance from Cato's shoulder.' Come on, you two!'
Cato kicked out with his legs, hurriedly at first; then, as he got used to the water temperature, he realised that he must pace himself if he was not to reach the ships in too tired a condition to fight. It was hard going, and after a while he turned his head and was surprised to see that the cliff still seemed close by. Ahead, as he rose up on the swell, he could see the rebel camp fires glittering over two miles away. There was a faint glow on the hills to the right that marked the Roman camp. By now only the auxiliary infantry and half of the cavalry should still be there. The rest of the column was with Fulvius, making its way behind the hills before cutting across and forming up on the beach, a mile from the end of the rebels'
palisade and the grain ships within. Out to sea, Balbus and his ships would be creeping cautiously round the headland, and would then heave to and wait for the series of three signal beacons to be lit on one of the hills above the bay. Cato took a deep breath and kicked out again, dimly aware of the hundreds of men in the sea all around him, struggling through the swell towards the grain ships and the desperate fight that awaited them.
Julia sat in numbed silence as the old crone dried her hair with a length of wool cloth, rubbing vigorously at the thick dark tresses that dropped down past her naked shoulders. She had long since given up resisting the wizened woman and the burly guard who seemed to be her inseparable companion. After being removed from the cage she had struggled, but the guard had slapped her and then punched her in the kidneys and told her to stop resisting or he would do it again.
There was no chance of escape, and rather than suffer more pain, Julia had given in to the pair of them, allowing her rags to be taken from her. She was sat down on a stool by a horse trough while the woman doused her with several buckets of water, before setting to work with a brush. The grime had worked its way into her flesh so
