Cato thought quickly, and then winced as he knew what had to be done. He crept over to his equipment, fumbled for his dagger handle and drew the blade. The hatch was old and weathered, and brittle, and Cato summoned up all his energy, grasped the dagger with both hands and punched it up through the hatch, tearing through the wool padding of the bedroll and into the back of the injured man. He heard a faint explosive gasp and his blade was tugged as the man twisted for a few moments before slumping back. Cato sensed no further movement through the handle. He twisted it slightly and wrenched the blade free. Then he crouched down and waited. Shortly afterwards someone padded lightly into the room and paused an instant before moving over to the man on the bedroll.

‘Saul!’ Bannus shouted from outside.’Get the last man. In the back room.’

‘Yes, sir.’

Footsteps thudded overhead and then they heard Miriam say, ‘It’s too late. He’s dead.You’d better take him with you.’

‘Bannus! He’s dead,’ the man shouted. ‘Should I bring his body?’

‘Leave it. We have to go. Now!’

Out in the street the brigands wheeled their horses about and began to ride past the house on their way out of the village. More dust obscured the view, and Cato and Symeon could feel the vibrations of the pounding hooves through the earth around them. The sounds quickly receded.There was quiet for a moment, and then Miriam grunted with effort as she shifted the body off the mattress. The hatch was slid to one side and she peered into the hole.

‘You can come out now. The Romans will be here any moment.’

07 The Eagle In the Sand

CHAPTER NINE

Macro was fuming. Centurion Postumus had him over a barrel. Without written authorisation from the imperial palace he had no power to oust the temporary commander of the Second Illyrian. So when the officers began to turn up, as Macro had instructed, he had to sit in embarrassed silence while Scrofa sent them away again. Not for the first time that day, he cursed Bannus and his brigands with the most heinously dire and painful torments imaginable. Because of the ambush, his letter of appointment was lying out there somewhere in the desert. Worse still, it might have fallen into the hands of Bannus’ men as they rifled through the baggage that Macro, Cato and the cavalry squadron had been obliged to abandon. Macro cringed with shame at the thought, even though there had been no alternative in the circumstances. They had barely escaped with their lives on unladen mounts as it was. Indeed, Cato was not yet out of danger. Thought of his friend spurred Macro on and he stood up and approached Prefect Scrofa’s desk.