‘We’d better get back to the ships. Hamedes, give him my thanks, and tell him that we will not rest until we have destroyed Ajax. Then his people will be free to live in peace.’

The headman shrugged. ‘He says that between the danger of Ajax and the burden of Roman taxes, what peace can a man hope for? There is no freedom. Not for the fellahin.’

‘Not much we can do about that,’ Macro said dismissively. ‘Here, give me a hand with this basket.’

Hamedes made their farewells and took up the woven handle on one side of the basket while Macro took the other. Then, with Cato following, deep in thought, they made their way back down the narrow beach towards the point where the skiff and the marines lay out of sight.

‘At least we’ll have fresh meat on the menu tonight,’ Macro mused happily as he glanced at the fish.

‘They’ll make good eating,’ Hamedes grunted as he adjusted his grip.

‘They’d better. I’d wager they’re about the most expensive fish ever caught in Egypt,’ Macro concluded ruefully.

That night, the crew of Sobek ate fried Nile carp, while the men of the other ships drawn up on the beach sullenly chewed on their hard tack. Cato and Macro were eating from their mess tins by the light of a cheery blaze of palm logs. Hamedes sat cross-legged on the far side of the fire, reading a prayer scroll he had borrowed from a temple in Alexandria. The fish, roasted over the fire, had been delicious, Macro reflected happily as he lowered his mess tin and licked his fingers. He glanced at Cato, and saw his face in profile, washed in a warm red glow, in deep concentration. Macro patted his chest and burped. ‘Excuse me.’

‘Hmmm?’ Cato looked round absently.

‘Ah, so you are still with us.’

‘Yes. Of course.’ Cato lowered his mess tin, and Macro saw that a good half of the fish remained. He gestured towards it. ‘You finished with that?’

Cato nodded.

‘Then do you mind if I, er . . .’

‘Help yourself.’

Macro nodded his thanks and tucked in.

‘Something’s not right about what we were told by those fishermen, ’ Cato announced quietly. ‘I’m certain we searched the coast thoroughly, and we didn’t find any trace of Ajax, or the ship.’

‘Obviously we didn’t look hard enough,’ said Macro, between mouthfuls.

‘It’s possible. But if I was in Ajax’s position, I would pick a base as far to the east of Alexandria as possible, away from the fleet.’

‘If you were Ajax, surely you would want to be in striking distance of the main shipping lanes?’