BooksBarbecue
Back The Legion
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

They returned to the others as the skiff reached the shore. One of the men hopped over the side with a splash and guided the bows in. The captain climbed aboard and settled in the stern before the others took their places; Macro and Cato opposite the captain, then the two auxiliaries and Junius on the small triangular deck at the front. The Nubian pushed the boat off and the man at the oars turned the craft and started to propel it back across the glassy expanse of river towards the landing stage on the island. One of the legionaries leaned out to look down at the water and the boat rolled slightly to that side.

‘Sit back!’ Macro snapped. ‘Don’t move again.’

‘Sorry, sir.’

The skiff was heavily laden and awkward to move and the man at the oars had to work hard to keep on course. The sun was beginning to sink into a murky orange haze to the west and the dark forms of birds swooped low over the water, feeding off the insects. They were not the only animals feeding, Cato realised as the skiff approached the landing stage. There was a movement in the reeds away to the left and a long glistening snout protruded briefly through the slender green growths, then with a swirl of water and swish amongst the tops of the reeds, it was gone.

The skiff approached the landing stage, constructed from stone in the forgotten days when priests once came to the shrine to make offerings. Now the stone was worn with age and mottled with bird droppings. The man at the oars shouted over his shoulder to Junius, and then pointed to the rope loosely coiled beside the tribune. Junius nodded his understanding and took up the rope, reaching out to the iron ring that was fastened to the side of the stonework. A thrust of the oars brought it within reach and the tribune grasped it and pulled the boat in. As soon as he could he slipped the end of the rope through the ring and pulled it back, drawing the craft closer. Once the craft was securely moored, Junius clambered ashore and helped the others up. When they were all on firm ground, Macro turned to the Nubian captain.

‘You speak Greek?’

‘Little.’

‘Then no tricks, understand?’ Macro slapped his scabbard. ‘Or else.’