‘On the contrary, more men will only slow me down. The prefect has more need of you than I do right now. You will stay here, and help defend the fort.’

‘But, sir!’ There was a pleading tone to his voice and Macro felt sick with disgust.

‘Enough!’ Longinus snapped. ‘You will stay here! Understand?’

Postumus stared back, and there was a bitter twist to his lips as he replied. ‘Oh, I understand, sir. Perfectly.’

‘I shall not forget you, Postumus. I never forget those who have served me well.’

‘That’s a great comfort, sir.’

‘Farewell, then.’ Longinus nodded, made to hold out his hand, and then let it drop back to his side as he turned away and climbed down from the tower.

A little later Macro, Cato and Postumus looked on as the Governor and his escort galloped out of the fort and immediately swung north to give the approaching rebels as wide a berth as possible before they made for the security of the legions under Longinus’ command in Syria. Macro noticed the look of acute bitterness in Postumus’ face as he watched them ride off across the desert.

‘That’s what you get when you play politics, friend.’

Postumus turned to the prefect and laughed. ‘You don’t get it, sir. He’s not going to send us any reinforcements. ‘

‘Why?’ asked Cato. ‘What do you mean?’

‘If you two are the best that Narcissus can come up with, then may the gods help the Emperor. Outside Rome, I imagine that it’s only the three of us who know the scale of Longinus’ treachery. If he leaves us here to die, then he’s in the clear. Of course, the moment Bushir falls, and we’re all slaughtered, he’ll mount a punitive expedition and grieve over our bodies, and claim that he was just too late to save us.’

Macro and Cato stared at him a moment, then Macro shrugged. ‘Fine. Then the only way we get back at that patrician bastard is by making sure we come through this alive.’

‘Oh?’ Postumus smiled weakly. ‘And how do you propose that we do that, sir?’

‘The same way we always do. By beating the living shit out of our enemy and dancing on his grave. Cato?’

‘Sir?’

‘I want every officer at headquarters at once. We’ve got work to do, and it looks like there’s not much time left before Bannus will be breathing down our necks.’

‘Including Scrofa? Shall I have him released?’

Macro shrugged. ‘Why not? He might as well do something useful before he dies.’

07 The Eagle In the Sand

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Macro looked over the faces of his officers, waiting for their complete attention before he began.