The Gladiator

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

The following morning, Senator Sempronius met with his senior military officers. In addition to Macro and Cato, there were the commanders of the three auxiliary cohorts. The prefect of the Batavian cavalry, Marcellus, was a slender, hard-looking veteran with silver hair and piercing dark eyes. The detachments of the two infantry cohorts were led by centurions, Albinus and Plotius, men who had served with their units since first signing up. Unfortunate, since Macro had hoped they might have been promoted to their present rank from the legions.

'Pity,' he muttered to Cato as the senator made the introductions.

'But we'll have to make do.'

Sempronius glanced at him irritably as he continued. 'Macro is the acting prefect of the Twelfth Hispania at Matala. Centurion Cato is serving as my military aide and chief of staff.'

Marcellus looked searchingly at Cato for a moment. 'Might I ask the substantive rank of Macro and Cato?'

'Of course.' Sempronius nodded.' Both hold legionary rank, pending reappointment to new units once they return to Rome.'

'I see.' Marcellus nodded with a small smile of satisfaction.' Then, as prefect, I am the senior officer present.'

'You are, technically,' Sempronius replied in an even tone.

'However, as the senior office-holder in the province, I have the final word in matters of command. For the present I am content to permit Macro to retain command of our forces.'

'I have to protest, sir. Macro is only an acting prefect. I am a permanent holder of that rank. Therefore I should be in command.'

'Your protest is noted, Prefect Marcellus; however, I have made my decision. Prefect Macro will lead my men.'

'I see.' Marcellus nodded. 'I'd like that noted in writing, sir.'

'Would you?' Sempronius looked surprised for a moment, before he recovered. 'Are you sure about that?'

The other man returned his stare steadily and then shook his head. 'I suppose not. After all, what difference does it make? There aren't likely to be any rewards handed out to the commanders as a result of our actions in this crisis.'

'Quite,' Sempronius replied. 'This is a simple policing matter, gentlemen. Our goals are to enforce order, feed the people and recapture the slaves who have run away from their masters. That is all.' He glanced round at his subordinates. 'Having considered the situation, I have made the following plans to achieve our goals. The Batavian horse and the Fifth Gallic will be tasked with hunting down the fugitive slaves and any brigands that are preying on the people and property of this province.' He paused, and chewed his lip for a moment before continuing. 'Prefect Marcellus will command this force.'

Macro cleared his throat.' Begging your pardon, sir. I thought you said I was your choice for commander.'

'I did.'

'Then shouldn'tI lead this column?'

'Your particular talents are required here, for the present.'

'Sir?'

'I will explain later.' Sempronius turned to Centurion Plotius.

'The Tenth Macedonian will remain in Gortyna, to keep order and to help with reconstruction. Centurion Cato will assign work details for your men.'

'Yes, sir.' Plotius nodded.

'Any questions?'

Marcellus spoke. 'Yes, sir. It will take my men some days to carry out their job, and we will need adequate provisions. The thing is, Marcus Glabius has not been forthcoming with the supplies he has hoarded up there on the hill.'

'So I've heard.'

'Well, the truth of it is that he has been giving me half of what I need for the men and horses, and he's been doling it out on a daily basis. I will need at least ten days' supplies, and I will need it in full rations.'

'I've already requested that,' Sempronius replied. 'However, Glabius has sent me word that he must put the people of Gortyna first. He will only grant you — those are his words — five days' supplies, at half rations, for you and your horses.'

Marcellus's expression darkened. 'That won't do, sir. In any case, who is he to tell you what he will provide from his supplies?'

'Who indeed?' Sempronius smiled weakly. 'Glabius is the man sitting on the food chest. He's also the man sitting pretty up there in the acropolis. Until the situation changes, the allocation of supplies is in his hands. In the meantime, you and your men will take what rations he provides for us, and when they are exhausted you will have to live off the land.'

Cato leaned forward.' Begging your pardon, sir?'

'What is it?'

'Prefect Marcellus and his column will not be campaigning through hostile territory. At least, it won't be hostile to start with. The local people have little enough food as it is, and if our men turn up and start seizing what's left, then we are hardly going to keep their loyalty, and that's something we're going to need in full measure in the days to come.'

'Well, what of it?' Sempronius responded in an exasperated tone.

'Our soldiers have to be fed.'

'That's true, but it would be best if they take as little as possible fromeach settlement they pass through, and also they must pay their way'

'Pay?' Marcellus snorted. 'We're bloody army, not traders. We don't pay our way'

Cato pursed his lips. 'As things are, I would recommend that we pay for the food, sir. Unless we want the peasants, slaves and brigands making common cause.'

'Let them try,' scoffed Marcellus. 'I'll ride them into the ground.'

'I'd rather you didn't,' said Sempronius. 'I would imagine the emperor would not be pleased to lose any more tax-payers in this province than is wholly necessary. You'll do as Cato says and pay for your supplies, and don't leave people to starve in your wake. Is that clear?'

Yes, sir.'

'Good, then I want you and Centurion Albinus to prepare your men to march at first light. Your orders will be sent to you later on.

I will want regular reports on your progress, Marcellus. Every other day'

'Yes, sir. Is that all?'

Sempronius stared at him for a moment and nodded. 'Yes. The briefing is over. You may leave, except for Centurions Cato and Macro.'

They remained in their seats as the other three officers scraped back their chairs and rose to salute and leave the room. Once the door was closed behind them, and the sound of footsteps had receded across the flagstones of the stable courtyard, Macro cleared his throat and leaned forward belligerently.

'Might I ask why I am not being entrusted with command of the column being sent to deal with the slaves?'

'It is not a question of trust.' Sempronius sighed. 'Rather, it is not a question of my faith in you so much as my lack of trust in Marcellus.'

'Eh? I don't follow you, sir.'

'You saw what he was like. Ambitious, and resentful. Marcellus has been serving in Crete for long enough to favour an insider like Glabius over me. I could be wrong about him, but I won't take the risk. I'd rather he was kept away from Gortyna while we deal with Glabius. Chasing down the runaways and enforcing martial law will keep him occupied for a while. Besides,' Sempronius smiled,'I meant what I said about requiring your talents here, Macro.'

'Sir?'

'I think it is time I resolve my differences with Glabius and persuade him to retire from his current post. I have no intention of setting Marcellus loose on the southern part of the province short of rations. So, we must get our hands on the supplies up in the acropolis as soon as possible.'

Macro glanced at Cato and winked.' Now that sounds like my kind of proposition.'

Cato looked at Sempronius. 'What do you have in mind, sir?'

'A little subterfuge, which we will put into effect once Marcellus is a safe distance from Gortyna. Tomorrow afternoon should do.'

Sempronius could not suppress a small chuckle. 'And then we shall see if Glabius has any backbone to back up his bluster. That's all for now, gentlemen.'

Macro and Cato were at the door when Sempronius called after them.' One other thing. I've found out who this gladiator might be.

It seems that the governor's wife bought him on a trip back to Rome a few months ago. Apparently he was a rising star and Antonia paid a small fortune for him.'

'Why?' asked Cato. 'I mean, of what use is a gladiator to a Roman matron?'

Macro and Sempronius glanced at each other, and Macro raised his eyes.

'Oh.' Cato blushed. 'I see. Anyway, what is his name?'

'I didn't get his real name,' said Sempronius. 'Only the one he fought under — " The Iron Thracian". Not much help, I'm afraid. Still, if he survived the earthquake, he might be the man who is leading the slaves.'

As the sun began to sink behind the mass of the acropolis, Sempronius, accompanied by two men in the plain tunics of clerks, with the bags containing their writing materials slung from their shoulders, made his way up the path leading to the main gate of the acropolis. He had sent a message to Glabius earlier in the afternoon requesting a meeting to discuss the provisioning requirements of his troops. Glabius had consented, and agreed the time that Sempronius had suggested for the meeting.

The shadows were lengthe ning on the slope leading up to the acropolis, casting gloom over the narrow alleyways between the houses that clustered there. Up on the wall that ringed the top of the hill, a handful of Glabius's men patrolled along the sentry walk, dark shapes against the brilliant glare of the sky. Sempronius was wearing a white tunic, fringed with the broad red band that signified his social status.

Across his shoulder was a sword belt, from which hung a richly decorated scabbard and hilt — a weapon that had been in his family for generations and survived the capsizing of the Horus.

As the gradient steepened and the route began to zigzag up the slope, Macro turned to Cato and mumbled, 'This is never going to work. We shouldn't have let him talk us into it.'

'The plan will work, if we keep quiet.' Cato tapped his mouth with a finger.

Macro clamped his lips together and shook his head in resignation. He walked a little awkwardly, thanks to the knife bound against his spine under the tunic. Cato also moved warily, and with a slight limp, as he was still recovering from his wound. He wore a felt skullcap to help conceal his identity if they encountered any of Glabius's men who might have visited the senator's headquarters. He had met Glabius once, and the man was sure to recognise him when they came face to face, but by then it would be too late for the tax collector to do anything about it.

A vague movement to his side drew Macro's attention and he saw a file of auxiliary troops stealing along the narrow alleys that threaded the houses and small shops crowding under the looming mass of the acropolis. This part of the city had not suffered nearly as badly as the rest, but even so, Centurion Plotius and his men would be forced to pick their way quietly over the occasional heaps of rubble in order not to alert the sentries on the walls above them.

The two guards at the gate rose to their feet and hefted their spears as the senator and his followers approached. Cato saw that they were big, heavy men with the broken noses of boxers, or perhaps from time spent in the street gangs that were a feature of every large city across the empire. They moved to bar the way to the closed gate and one raised his hand to halt Sempronius.

'State your business, sir,' he said bluntly.

'I'm here to see Marcus Glabius. He is expecting me.'

The guard smiled faintly as he replied. 'Governor Marcus Glabius left word to admit you, sir. He said nothing about any companions.'

Sempronius bit back on his anger. 'These men are my personal secretaries. I need them to make notes at the meeting. Now let us through.'

The senator took a step towards the gate. The guard whistled and the other man on duty blocked their path.

'Get out of my way' Sempronius growled.

'Not so fast, sir,' said the first guard. 'I have to search these bags before I let you enter.'

He turned to Macro and Cato and nodded towards their haversacks. 'Put ' em on the ground and step back two paces.'

They did as they were told and watched as the guard knelt down, opened each bag in turn and rummaged through the waxed slates and styli before flipping the flaps back and stepping away. 'Pick ' em up.'

Cato could sense Macro bristling with anger at his side as they retrieved their bags, and willed his friend to control his temper. The guard approached the gates and bellowed out the order for them to be opened. There was a dull grating from inside as the locking bolt was slid aside, and a moment later one of the doors groaned on its hinges as it swung inwards. The guards stepped aside as Sempronius clicked his fingers and led Macro and Cato into the acropolis.

Like many Greek cities, the acropolis was dominated by temples and shrines to those gods most revered by the local people. In addition, there were a number of administration buildings and barracks built close to the walls that ran around the edge of the hill.

There were no priests in view. A handful of men dressed in comfortable tunics were sitting in the shade of a grove as they drank wine from a slender-necked amphora.

'Seems like the quality of Gortyna are doing all right,' Macro muttered.

A large group clustered around a ga me of dice outside one of the barrack blocks, and another six men were patrolling along the walls, occasionally glancing down over the city, or out across the plains in the direction of Matala, and up into the hills behind Gortyna. The earthquake had flattened one of the smaller temples, and large sections of the roofs of the others had fallen in. The two-storey administration building was largely intact, save for the portico, which had collapsed and now lay in piles of rubble on either side of the entrance.

As they passed the Temple of Jupiter, Best and Greatest, Cato saw that it was the newest structure on the acropolis, and the least damaged. Through the columns that surrounded the building he could see sacks of grain and racks of amphorae piled high along the outer walls. The main doors were open, and more supplies were visible in the dim interior. Cato quickened his pace, caught the eye of Sempronius and nodded towards the temple.

'Enough there to feed the people for a while yet, not to mention our men.'

'I know,' Sempronius replied coolly.' Damn Glabius.'

He led them towards the administration building, where another one of Glabius's hired men stood on guard. Sempronius explained his business once again and the guard nodded and escorted them inside with a curt gesture. They passed through the main hall, which was filled with fine rugs, furniture, statuary and boxes of scrolls. The contents of Glabius's house, Cato surmised, carried up to the acropolis for safe keeping until the crisis was over. On the far side, a door gave out on to a small colonnaded courtyard. A staircase on the far side climbed up to a second level of rooms, built directly on top of the wall. The guard led them up the stairs and along a narrow corridor until they reached a do or at the end. He stopped and rapped on the frame.

'Come!' called a high-pitched voice from inside, and the guard lifted the latch and swung the door open before stepping aside to let Sempronius and his men pass. The room was long and narrow, with windows along one side giving fine views out over the city. Smaller windows, high up on the opposite wall, allowed the afternoon sunlight to fill the room with an amber hue. Glabius sat behind a desk beside one of the windows. A pile of waxed tablets lay before him, with one open on the desk. As they entered, he hurriedly made a final mark in the wax and closed the tablet.

As he strode across the room, Macro studied the man they had come to see. Marcus Glabius was short, a head shorter than even Macro, and heavily covered with fat and flesh that made his cheeks pendulous and quivery. Although his wrinkled face indicated advanced years, Macro was surprised to see that Glabius had fine curly black hair, and then realised that the tax collector was wearing a wig. He wore a silk tunic and soft doeskin boots that laced up to just below his knees. He struggled to his feet and bowed towards his guests.

'Welcome, Senator.' He glanced shrewdly at Macro. Cato had manoeuvred himself to stand behind Sempronius's shoulder. 'I had not expected you to bring company. Witnesses to our discussion, perhaps?'

'These men are my secretaries, not witnesses,' Sempronius replied coldly. 'They are here to take notes.'

'Both of them? Surely one would suffice?'

'For a lesser official, perhaps,' Sempronius countered. 'But as a senator, and as acting governor of the province, it is for me to choose how many men I need.'

'Acting governor?' Glabius smiled. 'You have no right to that title, alas. My poor friend Hirtius made that quite clear in his last hours.'

'Nevertheless, I have assumed the governorship, and have written to Rome to seek confirmation.'

A quick frown flitted across Glabius's features, before he smiled again.' How strange. I have written to my good friend the imperial secretary, Narcissus, to ask for confirmation of my own claim to the post. Ah well, we shall soon see who Rome acknowledges. Anyway, I believe you are here to request rations for your men.'

Macro knelt down and opened his bag. With one hand he began to rummage through the contents, while the other stole slowly round, behind his back. The senator cleared his throat and answered the tax collector clearly.

'No.' Sempronius shook his head.' Not this time. I have finished with requests, Glabius. Nor will I condone any more payments, at your profiteering rates, for the rancid stocks that you supply to my men. I have come here to demand that you surrender control of the supplies gathered here. Furthermore, I want you, your friends and your hired thugs to quit the acropolis immediately.'

For an instant, Glabius's eyes widened with a stab of anxiety. 'Sadly, I am unable to comply with your wishes.' He stepped out from behind his desk so that he had a clear line to the door at the end of the room.' Now, if you don't mind, I think I might need a few, er, witnesses of my own in here.'

He opened his mouth to draw a deep breath and call for his guards as Sempronius turned to Macro and nodded.' Now '

Macro surged to his feet, dagger in hand, and hurled himself at Glabius, knocking him back against the wall and driving the breath out of him in an explosive gasp of pain. Before the tax collector could react, Macro spun him round, grabbed him under the jaw with his left hand and thrust the edge of the dagger against his throat.

'Don't move a muscle,' he hissed in Glabius's ear.' The blade's sharp, and will cut through your throat at the slightest pressure.'

Glabius attempted to wriggle, and Macro clamped his left hand tightly about the man's windpipe. 'I said, don't move. And if you make a sound without my say-so, it'll be the last thing you do. Understand?'

Glabius made to nod, but wisely changed his mind and whimpered, 'Yes.'

Cato leaned across the table and turned the tablet that Glabius had been working on round to face him. He flipped it open and ran his eyes over the columns of figures under some clearly marked headings. He let out a low whistle. 'Looks like you're making a small fortune on the commissions on the grain purchases. What am I saying? It's a bloody huge fortune. I think I'll hang on to this.' He turned to Sempronius for permission. 'Sir?'

'Take it. Put it in your bag. I'm sure Narcissus will be delighted to find out how well his friend is doing out of the provincial treasury.'

'Yes, sir.'

'Good.' Sempronius smiled as he stood in front of Glabius and crossed his arms.' Now that I have your attention, and your cooperation, I want you to listen carefully. You will do exactly as I say.

If you manage that, then you will live. If you mess up, or try to make a run for it, or shout a warning, then Centurion Macro will kill you on the spot. So listen. This is what you're going to do…'

A short time after Sempronius and the others had entered Glabius's office, they re-emerged. This time the tax collector accompanied them, following the senator, while Macro and Cato walked behind Glabius. Macro held the dagger in his right hand, concealed in the shoulder bag, which had a small slit to the front through which the point of the blade projected, just enough for him to keep the tip in Glabius's side as they walked steadily along the corridor and down the steps into the courtyard. The guard who had shown the visitors up to the office was waiting in the shade of the colonnade and hurriedly rose to his feet at their approach. Glabius slowed to a stop and beckoned to the man.

'Over here!'

The guard drew up in front of the small party and eyed them curiously, until Glabius started to give his orders. 'I want the men summoned to the side of the Temple of Jupiter, at once.'

'Yes, sir.'

Macro gave Glabius just the lightest of prods, as a little reminder.

'Oh yes,' Glabius added hurriedly.' Make sure they are all there, including the men at the gate and on the walls.'

'All of them?' The guard could not conceal his surprise at the order.

Yes, all of them!' Glabius replied harshly.' D ' you hear me? All of them.'

'But sir, the gate? Who will guard it?'

'That's not important now. I want everyone by the temple, for a… a…' Glabius bit his lip, and then started as Macro applied some pressure to his back. 'A reward! Yes, I want to reward you men. For your loyal service. For all the hard work you have done to help the people of Gortyna come through the dark time that has afflicted us!'

Macro leaned a little closer and whispered under his breath, 'Easy does it. Let's not go overboard, eh?'

Glabius nodded ever so faintly as he cleared his throat. 'Just summon the men. Tell them I want to address them, them and all my family and friends in the acropolis. Send word to them as well, at once. Go!'

The guard bowed his head and turned to stride away.

'Don't walk, run!' Glabius called after him, after another prod from Macro. With a last glance back, the guard stumbled into a trot as he hurried away to carry out his orders. As the clatter of footsteps faded, Glabius swallowed nervously and glanced at Sempronius.' Do you think he believed me?'

You'd better pray he did.'

Glabius stared intently at the senator. 'I don't know what exactly you think you are doing, but you won't get away with it.'

'We shall see. You just play your part and we'll take care of things.'

'What are you up to?'

'You 'll see. Now then, let's get moving again. As far as the entrance. And then we wait there while your men assemble.'

With Macro keeping a close eye on Glabius, they slowly made their way back through the hall and halted just inside the building.

Keeping to the shadows, they watched as the bodyguards and hired thugs began to drift across the acropolis and assemble to the side of the colonnade of the Temple of Jupiter. Sempronius had noted the area on a previous visit, and saw how the bulk of the temple concealed the line of sight to the main gate. They waited and watched as a small crowd of the tax collector's guests ambled around the corner, carrying the wine amphora with them and chatting cheerily as they found a shaded corner to sit down in and wait for their host. All the while Macro kept the point of his blade lightly pressed into the small of Glabius's back. Once, when he swayed forward a fraction, Macro grabbed the back of his tunic and gave him a harsh tug.

'You even think about trying to run for it, and I'll have you.'

'I wasn't thinking about it! I swear. I'm just…just scared.'

Macro winked at Cato as he replied in a growl, ' Good. Being scared might just keep you alive.'

Glabius swallowed and nodded.

They waited until the last of Glabius's followers appeared to have answered the summons, and then Sempronius turned to him. 'Are you clear on what you have to do?'

Yes. Absolutely'

'Then let's do it.' Sempronius took a deep breath and placed his hand on Glabius's shoulder as they walked slowly out of the entrance and started to cross the paved area towards the temple. As they walked, Sempronius muttered to Cato, 'Carry on, Centurion.'

Yes, sir.' Cato saluted and turned to stride towards the main gate, a waxed tablet clutched under one arm to reinforce the impression that he was a menial clerk going about his business.

Glabius glanced round. 'Where's he off to?'

'Never you mind,' Macro said from behind. 'Just concentrate on what you have to do.'

They continued forward towards the small crowd beside the temple. At their approach the men stopped milling about and turned to Glabius and the others expectantly.

'This will do,' said Sempronius, drawing up.' Right then, it's your show.'

With Macro standing behind and just to one side of him, and Sempronius on the other flank, Glabius took a deep, nervous breath and raised an arm.

'My friends! Faithful retainers! I am delighted to announce that Senator Sempronius and I have reached an agreement about the governance of the province. I have decided to — '

'Not so fast,' Sempronius said under his breath. 'Spin it out, like I told you.'

As Glabius continued, the senator glanced to his side and saw that Cato was halfway to the gate. Glabius had to keep his men occupied for a little while yet.

'I have decided to, ah, firstly thank you for your friendship and your service. You have been a great source of support in the troubled days since the gods brought down their wrath on our fine city of Gortyna…'

Cato looked back and was relieved to see that Glabius had the attention of his followers. No one seemed to be taking any interest in the clerk Senator Sempronius had sent on some errand. He continued striding away from the temple, trusting that everyone had answered the summons. Ahead of him was the gate, abandoned by the sentries. The locking bar was securely in place, a heavy wooden beam capped with bronze at each end. As he reached the gate, Cato paused to look round, but there was still no sign of life at this end of the acropolis. He dropped the waxed slate in his shoulder bag and slipped the strap over his head before lowering the bag to the ground. Then he hurried to the locking bar and grasped the handle, heaving it to one side. The beam shifted a tiny distance and he relaxed his grip for a moment so that he could adjust his footing and brace his shoulder against the handle. Taking a deep breath, he gritted his teeth and threw his weight behind the handle, grunting as he strained his muscles to shift the beam. It slid a little further, this time accompanied by a dull grating as it began to move.

Cato rested briefly and continued, and the beam slowly eased towards the iron hoops through which it passed on either door. At last it came free of the left-hand do or and slid into the receiver channel. He eased it a little further, past the fine shaft of daylight that separated the doors, and then let go of the beam, which settled back into its brackets.

Grabbing the empty hoop, Cato leaned back, boots seeking purchase on the worn paving stones. With a squeaky groan that sounded deafening to his ears, the door began to swing inwards. It had opened about a pace when a leather curtain that formed the door in a nearby latrine shed was flung to one side and a man emerged, pulling down his tunic. A scabbard was tucked under one arm, the belt straps dangling down to his sandals. He glanced towards the gate and froze when he saw Cato.

'What in Hades…?'

Cato threw his weight back with renewed effort.

'Stop! Stop that!' the man yelled, releasing the hem of his tunic and drawing his sword and discarding his scabbard in one fluid motion. 'Get away from the fucking door, you!'

Cato ducked through the gap and cupped a hand to his mouth as he bellowed down the road leading into the city. 'Tenth Macedonian! On me!'

There was a scraping sound, and he turned to see that the man was heaving against the edge of the door.

'No you don't!' Cato snarled, fumbling through the slit in his tunic and ripping out the dagger that was tied there. He clenched his fist round the handle and threw his weight against the door, stopping it dead. The impact drove the man back a step, and Cato seized the advantage to thrust again at the door, pressing it open another couple of feet before he sprang through the gap. The guard backed off a short distance, crouched low and readied his sword. He glanced at Cato's dagger and sneered.

'Run, boy! While you still have a chance.'

Cato felt a wave of rage flush through his body. Then he heard a shout from down the slope as Centurion Plotius ordered his men forward. Unless Cato stood his ground, the do or would be closed before they reached the gate. He swallowed nervously and shook his head.

'No,' Cato replied. 'You run.'

'What?' The guard looked surprised for a moment, then his teeth clenched as he stepped forward to attack. As soon as he was in range, he lunged straight at Cato's stomach. Cato leaped nimbly to the side, hissing a curse at the pain in his leg as the blade cut through the air close by. As the guard snatched back his sword, Cato slashed at his arm. It was a desperate attack, and the dagger struck the sword blade with a sharp scraping ring. At once the guard drew his weapon back and now slashed at Cato in a swinging arc. Cato had no choice but to go down on one knee and duck as the glittering edge swished overhead. The guard had put his full strength into the blow, and the moment um of the blade carried his arm round and momentarily unbalanced him. Cato threw himself forward, striking at the man's booted foot, and felt the dagger pierce the leather straps, then flesh and bone. There was a shriek of agony as he yanked the handle free and rolled to one side, and over again before scrambling back on to his feet.

Blood was gushing from the guard's foot as he rolled his eyes and roared with rage and pain. Then his eyes flickered back towards Cato, wide and terrifying. With another meaningless shout he staggered forward, swinging his sword wildly. Cato knew that any blow that connected would cripple him if it did not kill him outright. He held the dagger out in front of him, ready to attempt to parry the sword. The first blow missed its target, but the second, a vicious backhanded slash, connected with the dagger with such force that it was wrenched from Cato's hand and flew through the air, spinning end over end, until it clattered across the flagstones some distance away.

'Right, you skinny bastard,' the man growled, backing Cato against the closed door.' Time to die.'

There was a series of shouts from the direction of the gate, and several of Glabius's men turned their heads at the sounds. After a moment Glabius paused and looked to his left. Until Macro prodded him in the buttock.

'Keep talking.'

Glabius let out a small yelp and lurched half a pace forward before he recovered his wits.

'Better keep their attention,' Sempronius urged quietly.' Get on with it.'

Glabius nodded, drew another breath and did his best to ignore another shout from the gate as he continued.' My friends, let me just say that, having conferred with the senator, I have agreed to relinquish the post of governor, for the sake of unity and the safety of our people. So, I salute Senator Gaius Sempronius, acting governor of the province of Crete!' He thrust his fist into the air. There was no response, just shocked expressions from his friends and followers, some of whom were edging forward so as to see what was causing a disturbance at the main gate. The silence was broken when one of the bodyguards took a step forwards and stabbed his finger at Glabius.

'Who's going to pay us then, eh?'

'He's right!' cried another. 'We'll be out of a bloody job.'

There was a chorus of angry shouts before a voice piped up. We don't need that fat bastard! Let's choose ourselves another governor, boys! Time for a bit of democracy, like.'

There was a roar of laughter and Glabius raised both hands to appeal to them, calling for silence. 'You have to do as I say! I pay you!'

'Not any longer!' a man called out, and then bent down to scoop up a pebble and hurled it at the tax collector, striking him on the shoulder.

'Ow!' Glabius flinched.

Macro spoke quietly to the senator. We ' re losing it, sir. We stay here much longer and that lot will have our bollocks for breakfast.'

Cato's eyes were focused on the tip of the blade as it advanced towards him, gleaming and deadly. The guard would make no mistake this time. In the distance he could hear the drumming of boots on the street as Plotius and his men raced towards the open gate. The guard heard it too, and hesitated, glancing back over his shoulder.

There was no time for thought. Cato acted instinctively. He leaped forward, going low, under the blade, reaching out to grab the guard around the legs and use his weight to throw the man off balance. The impact drove the guard back a pace, but he was solidly built and managed to keep his balance as he glared down at Cato. His blade was still pointed up, so he smacked the pommel down on to Cato's head.

Cato felt his teeth clash heavily as the blow landed with blinding impact. He felt his grip loosen on the guard's legs, even as he willed his fingers to clench into the man's flesh. But for a moment his body was numbed, and he collapsed on to the ground, landing heavily on his side. As his vision began to clear, he squinted up into the light, and saw the silhouette of the guard as he leaned over Cato, sword raised as he shouted,'You are fucked!'

There was a confusion of sounds: boots, the groan of the gate hinges and a sudden grunt and groan of pain. Cato blinked. The guard had gone and he was staring up into a clear sky, and then another blurry shape intervened.

'Centurion Cato! Sir, are you all right?'

'What?' Cato clenched his eyes shut for a moment, willing the dizzy nausea to abate. He felt hands haul him to his feet and hold him there.

'Sir?'

Cato opened his eyes and the anxious expression of Centurion Plotius swam into focus. 'I'm fine. Bit dazed, but I'm fine.'

The auxiliaries were pressing through the gate and spilling on to the open ground inside the acropolis. Cato thrust his arm out towards the Temple of Jupiter, where he could see Macro and the others backing away in the face of a shouting mob. 'Plotius, get your men over there at the double!'

Plotius nodded and swept his drawn sword up as he shouted to get his men's attention. Cato saw a crimson ribbon along the edge of the blade, and glancing down he saw the guard at his feet, the side of his face laid open by a sword cut.

'Tenth Macedonian!' Plotius bellowed. 'Follow me! '

He charged across the flagstones, towards the temple, and his men pounded after him, shields up and spears held ready. Cato ran after them in an unsteady lope, as his sense of balance had not yet recovered from the blow to his head.

Stones were raining down on them now, and Macro and the others had to raise their arms to protect their heads. Glabius turned to run, back towards the administration building. There was a roar from the mob at the sight, and then they surged forwards.

'Sir!' Macro called to Sempronius.' Run for it!'

The two Romans turned and sprinted after Glabius, pursued by the tax collector's erstwhile employees. At the back of the crowd, his friends and cronies hung back with terrified expressions. Glabius puffed into the entrance and ran on, heading towards his office, as if that might save him. Macro was close behind, and realised at once that they would be hounded and killed if they continued. The entrance was a natural choke point. He drew up abruptly and turned round as Sempronius swerved to one side to avoid him.

'Grab that post, sir!' Macro pointed at a broken length of timber in the rubble.

Sempronius snatched it up, hefting it quickly to find a good handhold, and the pair of them faced the mob surging towards the building. Macro spread his feet and held out his dagger, his lips curled into a snarl. There was one man out in front of his comrades, the one who had thrown the first stone, and he slowed as he reached the entrance, then stopped, staring at Macro and Sempronius uncertainly.

The next two men followed his cue and the mob reined in, momentarily quiet as they faced the two Romans.

'Throw down your weapons and back away!' Sempronius ordered.

There was no response, and the crowd glared at him in open hostility. The senator risked a glimpse to his left and saw the first of the auxiliaries running towards the temple.

'Let's kill 'em!' a voice shouted from the back of the crowd. 'Kill

'em now!'

'Wait!' Sempronius thrust out his hand. 'You lay a finger on us and you die! It's all over for you now My men are coming. Look!' He stabbed his finger towards Plotius and his men dashing towards the temple. 'Drop your weapons before it's too late. Those men have orders to kill anyone who resists! Do as I say, drop your swords!'

The crowd was still for a moment, uncertain, and for a moment Macro feared that they might fight, and begin by slaughtering him and the senator. Then there was a clatter as the first sword hit the ground. Then another, and then all the men were dropping their weapons.

'Now back off!' Sempronius called. 'Over there, beside the temple!'

There was a ripple of movement as the men edged away, glancing anxiously at the approaching auxiliaries. By the time Plotius and his men reached the entrance, the ground in front of it was clear.

Plotius saw the scratches and cuts from the stones on Macro and Sempronius's arms. 'You're injured.'

Sempronius shook his head. 'We're fine. Nothing serious. See to the prisoners. Get them off the acropolis as soon as you can. Take them to the amphitheatre. Let them sweat it out tonight and then set them free in the morning. Except Glabius. Find him a nice quiet cell of his own up here and keep him isolated.'

'Yes, sir.' Plotius saluted.

Cato pushed his way through the ranks of the auxiliaries, anxiously looking for Macro. He smiled as soon as he saw his friend and clapped him on the arm.

'I saw them go for you. For a moment there I feared the worst.'

'Feared the worst?' Macro snorted with derision. For a moment he was tempted to make light of it, but instead he shook his head and puffed out his cheeks. 'Fuck, that was close.'