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Chapters (43)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Page
  3. By Simon Scarrow
  4. Dedication
  5. Acknowledgements
  6. CHAPTER ONE
  7. CHAPTER TWO
  8. CHAPTER THREE
  9. CHAPTER FOUR
  10. CHAPTER FIVE
  11. CHAPTER SIX
  12. CHAPTER SEVEN
  13. CHAPTER EIGHT
  14. CHAPTER NINE
  15. CHAPTER TEN
  16. CHAPTER ELEVEN
  17. CHAPTER TWELVE
  18. CHAPTER THIRTEEN
  19. CHAPTER FOURTEEN
  20. CHAPTER FIFTEEN
  21. CHAPTER SIXTEEN
  22. CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
  23. CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
  24. CHAPTER NINETEEN
  25. CHAPTER TWENTY
  26. CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
  27. CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
  28. CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
  29. CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
  30. CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
  31. CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
  32. CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
  33. CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
  34. CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
  35. CHAPTER THIRTY
  36. CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
  37. CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
  38. CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
  39. CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
  40. CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
  41. CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
  42. EPILOGUE
  43. AUTHOR’S NOTE

‘Well, perhaps no news is good news,’ Aurelius replied unconvincingly. ‘In the meantime, Prefect Cato, you’re acting senior tribune. Centurion Macro gets command of the First Century.’ He tapped the scrolls. ‘You come highly recommended, and we need experienced officers. As you might know, it’s a while since the entire legion saw active service. We’ve been carrying out policing action most of the time. Still, the opposition’s little more than a mob of mounted brigands. That’s what we’re told, anyway.’

As the man spoke, in his high voice with its sing-song cadence and rhythm, Cato’s earlier fears about the combat readiness of the legion seemed to be justified. Aurelius was clearly a man far more at home wielding a stylus than a gladius. Cato could only hope that the legate had wider military experience.

‘Sir, if I may, I’d like to present myself to Legate Candidus at the earliest opportunity when he returns. I need to speak to him about the possibility of an additional threat to this region.’

‘I’m sure you would like to speak to Candidus,’ the camp prefect replied. ‘So would I. The fact is, he said he would be back three days ago. I’ve sent patrols to look for him but there’s no sign of him on the road to Ombos. The gods only know where he’s got to.’

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

The Nubian army was in camp twenty miles to the north of Ombos, in a shallow loop of the Nile that watered their horses and camels, as well as the herds of goats that served as mobile rations. There was little sense of the orderly layout that Ajax had seen in the Roman army at Diospolis Magna. The gladiator had halted his column of mounted men on a rocky outcrop a mile away from the camp. Prince Talmis’s forces sprawled across the flattened fields of wheat. Ajax estimated that the Nubian army must be at least thirty thousand strong. There were tents dotted around, but most of the men had erected temporary shelters constructed from palm fronds. The majority of the Prince’s men seemed to be Nubian warriors, with a smaller contingent of Arabs, swathed in flowing dark robes. At the heart of the camp lay a cluster of larger tents, and Ajax could make out a loose ring of spearmen guarding the cleared perimeter that stretched a short distance around the tents.

‘That’s where I think we’ll find Prince Talmis.’

Karim nodded. ‘I hope you’re right about this, General.’

‘Trust me. He’ll welcome us. Especially when we offer him a few tokens of our friendship.’ Ajax smiled as he patted the sacks hanging across the back of his horse. ‘Relax, Karim, if there’s one thing you can be certain of in this world it’s that the principle of my enemy’s enemy being my friend applies everywhere.’