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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

They were interrupted by a rap on the door frame. All three turned as a guard entered the room. ‘Sir, got the gypo from the temple you wanted outside.’

Petronius winced. ‘Soldier, I really would rather that you and your companions referred to our provincials in less pejorative terms.’

The man blinked. ‘Sir?’

‘Egyptians, not gypos, eh?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Very well, bring him in.’

Cato looked around at Macro and took a sharp breath as they waited for the survivor from the temple to be brought in to tell his tale.

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER FIVE

Hamedes was tall and solidly built. His bruised head had been shaved, but several days without any attention had left it with a dark furze. Somewhat younger than Cato, his eyes were deep-set either side of the wide curved nose that was typical of the native race. He wore a plain red military tunic, which Cato guessed must have been lent to him. He stood before them barefoot and unbowed. He spoke in Greek, fluently.

‘You sent for me, sir,’ he announced, somehow making the last word sound like a condescension.

‘Indeed.’ The governor nodded. ‘I’d like you to tell your story to these two officers.’

‘Why? I’ve already given a statement, which was taken down by your scribe. It’s not necessary, a waste of time.’

‘There’s no need for the high and mighty act,’ said Macro with a frown that would have unnerved a less easily subdued man than Hamedes. ‘Just be a good lad and give us the details.’

The priest looked Macro up and down. ‘And who might I be addressing, if I may ask?’

Macro puffed his chest out. ‘Centurion—’

‘Enough!’ Cato intervened. ‘You are here to answer our questions, not ask your own.’

‘Really? I thought I was here because I am a witness to Roman aggression against the temple of Isis at Keirkut. The temple is now a ruin, and its servants are carrion meat for the vultures. I am here to see that they have justice, sir.’ He paused briefly. ‘That is, if those who come from Rome are familiar with the concept. Meanwhile, it seems that I am a prisoner.’

Macro glanced at Cato and spoke quietly. ‘Quite full of himself, isn’t he? If he wants to play us around then I’m quite happy to take on the role of interrogator.’

‘Not yet,’ Cato replied quietly. ‘Let’s see what we can learn by less obtrusive means, eh?’

He turned to Hamedes. ‘The governor has asked us to join his investigation into the incident. We could read the report, but I would prefer to hear it directly from your own lips. It would be of considerable assistance to us in seeking the justice you desire.’

The young priest stared back, and then nodded. ‘Very well. I am prepared to cooperate on that basis.’

‘How good of you,’ Macro muttered, and Cato shot him a warning look.