The air was still chilly and Macro shivered as he completed his inspection and headed back towards the fort. As he neared the gate he noticed a rider approaching from the north and reined in, straining his eyes to try to identify the man. No Roman, to be sure, with the swath of cloth covering his body and head. Macro’s spare hand shifted to the handle of his sword as he twitched the reins and turned his mount towards the approaching rider. Evidently the sentries had at last seen the man as well, and boots thudded along the rampart as the duty century turned out. Macro frowned at the sloppy watch-keeping. The sentries should have spotted the rider long before Macro. Someone was going to be on a charge for that, Macro decided.

Suddenly the rider was waving his hand at Macro as if in greeting, and a moment later he pulled aside his veil and shouted. ‘Centurion! It’s me! Symeon!’

Macro relaxed his sword arm and let out his breath in a sigh of relief. He raised his hand and returned Symeon’s greeting, and urged his horse forward towards the approaching guide, as Symeon carefully picked his way through the defences.

‘You’ve chosen a poor time to visit us,’ Macro said ruefully.

‘Is there ever a good time?’ Symeon laughed then gestured towards the men busy setting up the caltrops. ‘Come, Centurion, tell me: why have you laid out all these trinkets around your fort?’

‘Bannus is coming.We expect him to arrive before the walls by nightfall.’

Symeon sucked in his breath. ‘How could he have grown so strong, so quickly?’

‘He’s found some new friends. The Parthians have sent him help.’

‘Parthians?’ Symeon’s expression darkened. ‘Bannus is a fool. What does he imagine Parthia will do if Rome is ever forced from this region? He is blinded by his hatred of the Kittim. Judaea, Syria and Nabataea would all fall to Parthia.’ He grasped Macro’s shoulder. ‘We must stop Bannus! Right here!’

‘Easier said than done,’ Macro said wearily.’He’s got us outnumbered. The Governor of Syria has abandoned us. I’m not sure we can hold Bannus off.’ Macro paused as a thought occurred to him.A desperate thought, to be sure. ‘Not unless we get help. How soon could you ride to Petra?’

‘I could leave at once, Centurion. It’s two days’ hard ride. Why?’

Macro smiled. ‘I need to call in a debt.’

07 The Eagle In the Sand

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR