 
AMULET I

BY

FRED NATH

For

Alex, Stuart & Andrew

Smashwords Edition

Copyright Fred Nath 2011

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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Prologue

"When the swords flash let no idea of love, piety, or even the face of your fathers move you" - Gaius Julius Caesar

I am Aulus Veridius Scapula. I am a Roman citizen and a talented and efficient killer of men.

The fates have spun me a strange tapestry, for I was not born to be a killer. I was born to a respectable tradesman's family. I might even have become a jeweller like my father, had it not been for the Censor's visit. All I had left of my father was the amulet in the end. He made it himself, its green light adorning my neck and bringing me luck or perhaps just memories, I cannot tell. That my life turned out so differently is a matter for the Gods, for it never followed any conscious purpose of mine.

As Mars can bear witness, I owe my skills to my teacher, Meridius, as well as to the legions in which I served. They both taught me to fight and use a sword effectively, which served me well through these long years. Meridius taught me to kill in close combat; the legion taught me to kill in unison with my fellow soldiers, but either leads to the deaths of others.

Taking life is not easy to live with, not at first; but those such as I, who have layer upon layer of blood on their hands, become used to their trade, inured to the violence.

Despite this, we all remained human inside. We still laughed and loved like those who lived in less brutal worlds. The savagery was external and mechanical. We did not fear our enemies; we feared more those soft feelings inside, when they penetrated through the hard shell of a violent life.

Love and slaughter. These could not coexist. There is no place for gentle emotions on a battlefield any more than violence belongs in the bedchamber. So we buried our feelings, deep inside us. How else could we become warriors?

My travels with the legions took me far, but deep inside, it was always Rome that I longed for. Mother of cities, the greatest and most marvellous place in the known world. It was for the glory of Rome that we all strived and fought and died, but what we created in doing so, history must judge in the end. Whether generations to come will see us as barbarians or fathers of wisdom, is in the hands of Jupiter alone.

I will tell of all that happened to me, before the ferryman asks for my fare. I do not fear that journey, for I will see the many familiar faces of those who have gone before. My father, my mother, Meridius, even my enemies - it will be a strange reunion in Elysium.

When you find me, put a coin in my mouth for the fare, lest I be stranded on the shore and wander among you forever.

BOOK I: THE INHERITANCE
Chapter I

"While we deliberate about beginning, it is already too late to begin" - Quintillianus

'Julius! Look, over there!' I said, pointing, wooden gladius in hand.

'What?'

'That sedan chair! What's it doing here?'

'It's certainly somebody rich. I've never seen one with carvings like that,' Julius, my friend and neighbour said.

'No, nor have I, look at the curtains! They've got pictures on. I did see one with six Nubians once but that was at the Forum Romanum. Look! He's getting out!'

'I wonder who it could be?'

It was not the Censor's wealth that was remarkable; it was that he was so out of place. The luxury he displayed was almost unknown in that part of the city where we lived, near the Forum Boarium, amidst tall tenements, tiny squares and milling crowds.

I realised even at my age that his clothing revealed his status, for his toga had the crimson border used only by the top rank of the equites class. The gold ring on his right hand glinted in the warm summer sunshine, as he grasped the door in his descent. His toga was of fine quality, bleached and brushed with chalk to whiten it. A red motif decorated his sandals as if he had to appear wealthy from top to toe.

He had a wrinkled, weatherworn face and the skin beneath his dark eyes sagged a little, as if too much wine and too little sleep were beginning to take their toll. I watched as he brushed dust from his toga. How could I know then, a mere child, that his arrival on that hot afternoon, would in the end, shatter my life and shape my destiny?

I was fascinated, as only a child could be, by the opulence of this mysterious man's arrival. I had not seen such a well-appointed man before at our home and I guessed, excited, that someone important had arrived.

'He's going to our tenement. I'm going to see who he is.'

'Aulus, they won't let you in. Stay here and play. Please!'

'Sorry Julius, I just have to know what's going on. I just have to.'

I ran sandals slapping, across the cobbles and went inside behind the visitor's servant, my curiosity thrusting me ahead.

The servant had crossed the little courtyard and entered our tenement apartment, which was on the ground floor. He announced his master's arrival.

'I announce the Censor, Mettius Costa. He seeks to discuss an item of business with the owner, Gaius Veridius Scapula,' the servant said, in a more haughty and formal tone than was necessary. The Censor was after all, a relative. A rich relative, but family all the same. I had never seen him before, but I knew his name, for my parents often talked about the wealthy half of the family.

Had my father, Gaius, known that his brother-in-law the Censor was going to visit, I think he would have worn the cleaner of his two tunics, for I know he would have baulked at the idea of showing his relative poverty to such a man. Not that he was poor, he had barely enough to be well off by tradesmen's standards, but he always said that the richer half of the family made him feel the poor relative.

The workshop was well lit but untidy. Tools lay on the workbench in front of my father and he had set up a vice to hold the gemstones and precious metals that he worked with. The lighting was vital for the fine work that he carried out. He sat at the workbench for most of the day creating jewellery that even the richest people in Rome were proud to wear, as he often told me with pride.

I remember once, as a small child, running my hand over the flat, scored, oaken surface of that workbench. I can recall the smooth feel of the wood, worn by years of use, charred and pitted in places from the molten gold dripped here and there despite my father's steady hand. It had seemed reassuring at the time, as if it showed some sense of permanence in a changing world.

Although father had become a plump man, in his youth he had participated in all kinds of athletic sports and had won several races in the Saturnalia entertainments. He was a proud man too and he was fond of extolling our family's achievements as well as his own. I can recall few times when he raised his voice to me and he never beat me as Julius' father beat him.

Father was adding the final touches to a carved gemstone held in the wooden clamp, when he heard the servant's announcement.

He looked up from his work and frowned at me, 'Aulus, out please, you know you are not allowed in my study.'

My father had a round reassuring face and a short beard that framed his usual easy smile. I looked back at him and almost bumped into the visitor as I sidled through the doorway. The man paid me no more attention that he would to a passing dog. I stopped outside the doorway, my curiosity overcoming any embers of my caution. I stood listening with my shoulder against the doorframe, small and unnoticed, like the little lizards that crept with such stealth on our walls.

Marcus Mettius Costa, the Censor, strode into the study and looked around with an expression of distaste on his face. I could see from around the doorjamb that he sniffed as he looked at my father. He appeared to be a tall man, thin, humourless and mean. He wore a frown as he peered over his large hooked nose at father. He was sweating.

I often wondered at the difference between my father's voice and manner when he was dealing with people about his work. It was almost as if there were two people called Gaius. There was my father, a kind and gentle man and another more formal serious man whom I did not know.

'Welcome Marcus Mettius, how kind of you to visit my humble establishment. Have you come to order jewellery for my illustrious sister or something for yourself?' my father said.

'Cut out the sales talk, Gaius. I have not come all the way from the Quirinal to order trinkets on a hot day like to-day. I need to talk to you about the ownership of your grandfather's estate.'

The Censor had a lisp, which according to my father, did not embarrass him in the least. He had risen through the ranks of Roman society and now, having been Consul twice, he was in one of the most senior senatorial posts in Rome. There were only two censors, whose roles were to regulate the Senate and judge mainly complex legal matters.

'I see you're wearing a toga even in this heat. Aren't you hot?'

'I am a Censor. My public office demands wearing formal dress at all times in public. To not do so, makes a nonsense of the traditions inherent in such a prestigious office.'

'There is no need of formality here Marcus, we are family you know.'

'Did you not hear me? I need to talk to you about your grandfather's estate.'

'My grandfather's estate? After my father died, you took it. Wasn't that why we fell out in the first place?'

'Look, I need the deeds to the property so I can sell it. I know you have them. I have a buyer and without the deeds there is no legal sale.'

'Sell it?'

'Yes, I have a buyer.'

'You can't sell it without the deeds.'

Father smiled, goading.

'I need those deeds! By Jupiter! Sulla himself requires the land to settle some of his veterans. He has offered a fair price. I want to sell it,' my uncle said.

'I still maintain that the property does not belong to you whether Sulla the Dictator let you have it or not. He won't always be around, you know.'

'I need those deeds.'

'No. As long as I have the deeds, I can prove my ownership. Come on Marcus, it's nothing to you, with all your wealth; you could buy ten of those estates and not even notice it.'

'Can't you be reasonable? Perhaps I can buy the deeds from you. How about fifty thousand sesterces?'

'Not for a million!'

'It is a fair offer and it could improve your status in life and raise your son Aulus, to the higher levels of society in time.'

'You know, I promised my father I would never sell the land. When I am old, I may retire to that estate and there is nothing you, or any clever lawyer, can do to stop me.'

'Even if you did, you could not afford to run it!'

'The income from it may not be great but with a little work and investment, it could be productive. I need it for Aulus.'

'I have had the upkeep of it for almost six years and the fact that some payment is made to you at the moment, is merely an acknowledgement of your lowly status in life, and the generosity of my wife because she is your sister.'

'I can't and won't sell the deeds,' my father said. 'There is nothing you can do to persuade me, so I'm afraid that there is an end to it.'

He spread his hands out at his sides and shrugged his shoulders.

'You could be made to sell. Have a care Gaius, I am an influential man and can make things happen if I so desire. You would be unwise to cross me.'

'Don't threaten me, Marcus. I won't sell the land and Aulus will inherit it after me.'

The two men looked at each other for a moment, Marcus glaring, my father smiling. The Censor turned abruptly and strode to the door, straight towards me. He turned back then, wanting the last word, for he was that kind of man. There was venom in his voice.

'You fool; you don't know what you are doing. You're only a little man and little men get swallowed up.'

As the Censor left, father made a rude sign with his fingers at the disappearing back and then smiled an introspective little smile.

'I may not be rich,' he said under his breath, so I could hardly make out the words, 'but I at least, have ancestors. My gens reaches back as far as Romulus, which is more than you can say, you stuffy old goat.'

He turned back to his bench, humming a little tune to himself and began carving the stone. It was a Medusa's head, commissioned by the Senior Vestal herself, and he had told me how proud he was that she had selected him, for it was indeed an honour.

I stood outside the study, wondering what the conversation had meant. I knew that my rich uncle was a powerful man and that his wife, my aunt Livia, had arranged for me to have lessons at their house.

Although my parents had told me how Mania, my mother, had arranged it all, I now had an uncomfortable feeling that I might not be welcome if my father and my uncle did not get on. I longed to ask my father why he and Uncle Marcus were not on good terms but dared not, for even at the age of eight, I knew I should not have eavesdropped.

I left the building intent upon a game of gladiators, for Julius and I fought with our wooden swords so often it was almost like being there, in the arena, the crowds screaming and the hot sun baking the contestants.

Marcus Mettius Senior was standing outside, tall and forbidding. For the second time, I almost bumped into his toga-clad figure.

'I suppose you must be Aulus then?'

'Yes sir,' I replied.

'I suppose we will be seeing more of you shall we not?'

'Yes sir.'

'Well next time, don't run around corners, you might bump into something unpleasant and we cannot have that can we boy?'

'No sir,' I said.

* * *

The sun was beginning to peep over the horizon, splintering the faint pre-dawn light that had spread across the great city, but the air still felt cold. We weaved our way through an army of pupils and slaves who walked to school through the streets, interspersed between tradesmen and the last of the carts, which were leaving the city. There was a moratorium on carts in the streets of Rome between dawn and sunset, as that was the only way to avoid daytime gridlocks on the main thoroughfares.

Even at this time of day, there were street vendors selling food and tradesmen were opening their shops. Groups of tradesmen gathered on corners discussing, gesticulating and laughing. There was almost an atmosphere of anticipation in the mornings, which did not exist by the afternoon, when the sunshine heated the stone cobbles and Rome slept.

Our route took us past the Forum Romanum, the main and most central forum. By midday, it would be crowded with people. Politicians used it to give speeches from the rostra, recruiting voters to their causes while street vendors sold anything from food to clothes. Young people gathered to talk and meet friends. Senate decrees and public meetings took place there and anyone who was anyone wanted to be seen participating in the general bustle. The grave of Romulus was there too, marked by two large black marble stones. It was a strange place of history, politics and fun. The forum was Rome and Rome was the forum.

The road forked just after the Forum Romanum. The right hand fork led to the Esquiline, which was a residential area resplendent with many oak trees from which the hill obtained its name. The southern slopes ended in a hill called the Oppius where some of the bigger houses and richer people resided. We headed towards the Oppius and we needed to fork left there, to head towards the Quirinal, where my Uncle Marcus had his home.

This was my first day at school. It would have been an interesting day, had it not been for my anxiety. It produced a feeling of tightness in my stomach and a faint, constant wish to urinate. I was not used to such feelings and my mind harped back to home, where I felt so much more secure, warm, and happy.

'It's a steep walk, Perseus; can we stop for a few seconds?' I said to our slave who accompanied me. He had been with our family for as long as I could remember. He was of medium height, with greying, sandy coloured hair and staring bulbous eyes that showed a sense of humour despite his lowly position in life. I always felt that slaves had little to laugh at, but I also knew that my father was a kinder master than most.

'Yes, young master, even I am feeling it. We have to get most of the way up the Viminal before we turn off left to the house of your uncle.'

'I wish I was at home.'

'Your parents have arranged this and I for my part must also do my duty, young master. I am sure that a young man of the gens Veridius, to which you belong, will not give in to fear! Your great grand-father and grandfather were true Romans and they will watch out for you, or at least their shades will follow you and make sure you come to no harm.'

'Perseus, if I insisted we go home what would you do?'

'The master instructed me that if I had to, I should pick you up and carry you. I am sure that he was joking, and that sort of thing will not be necessary.'

'Of course not. I was just asking.'

We walked along a long straight road called the Vicus Longus. With faint breathlessness, we turned left to reach the Quirinal.

I was eight years old and a late starter, because the only good inexpensive school was a long way from my parent's home and they had waited to enrol me until they had discussed it with Aunt Livia.

'Perseus,' I said presently, 'I don't know my letters very well. What if they expect me to know all about writing?'

'But I thought the master had taught you your letters?'

'Well, he did a bit, but I find it hard to tell them apart. My reading isn't very good at all.'

'Don't worry, young master,' Perseus said, 'I am sure that your teacher will know what to do, he is a Greek after all.'

'I heard they beat their pupils,'

'I am equally sure he will not beat you. Your father would never send you somewhere to be beaten. He is not that sort of man. Why, he is even kind to slaves like me!'

'But...'

'No more buts young master, we are nearly there. You must show them that you are of a proud and ancient family.'

We walked up the wide path to the gate and Perseus knocked and stood aside for me to announce our presence. My bottom lip trembled a little and I wanted to run away. A janitor, chained to the doorpost as was customary, opened the door.

'Well, you must be young Aulus then, we were expecting you. I am Cerberus. You must excuse the name, but the master thought it would be amusing to name me after the three-headed dog that guards the entrance to the Greek underworld! You are most welcome young sir,' he turned to Perseus, ' I will take care of him now. Make sure you are here to collect him this afternoon.' The man smiled and rang a bell.

Cerberus was a scrawny man with greying hair and a squint. His grey linen tunic had a large stain at the front and a small tear in the neckline.

'Where should I go?' I asked.

The house was huge by my standards and I stared open mouthed at the long, paved, path that led up to the entrance.

'Don't you worry young sir; a slave will respond to the bell and lead you to the peristylium where the lessons are to be held. Marcus the younger is already there. I'm sure you will both get along fine even though he is a little older than you.'

'I hope so,' I mumbled. I stood then, waiting in silence. There was a tension in my little body; I did not know what was going to happen next. I still felt like running as far away from this huge house as possible.

Within a few minutes, another slave walked down from the house and bade me follow him. We entered the house, which only served to fuel my apprehension for I found the inside even more daunting than the outside.

The Atrium was huge. It made me feel small and alone. Tapestries depicting land and sea battles, adorned the walls and there were niches in the walls with statues and ornaments. The mosaics that decorated the floor were made of tiny squares of stone of a variety of colours and shapes that I had never seen before. I almost hesitated to step upon the floor in case I might damage them with my small sandaled feet.

I followed the slave through a corridor to the peristylium. It was a large colonnaded garden with a central fountain and in one corner an altar for offerings to the house god. In the cloisters were groups of tables and couches where the occupants of the house would lounge or take food if the weather was suitable. Standing next to the fountain was a boy.

He was a head taller than I was. He had a shock of black hair that seemed to have a life of its own hanging over his ears and dancing in the summer breeze. His face was attractive even at this age and he had an air of confidence or arrogance that impressed me, for I was very young then. I guessed that Marcus was two or three years older than I was, but I was bold enough to greet the bigger boy first.

'Hello, I'm Aulus. We're cousins.'

'Yes I know. You're from the poor side of the family.'

I had nothing to say in return. I wanted to leave. He was not being the friendly cousin I had imagined. There was silence then, apart from the normal household noises of slaves padding around and furniture scraped on floors. I heard a bird screech above us.

The problem was what to do with my hands. I folded my arms but it seemed inappropriate, so I clasped my hands behind my back. In the end, I let them hang by my sides and shifted my weight from one foot to another.

Marcus stood there looking at me. It was a cruel stare and minutes passed as I looked around me. He spoke again, looking down at me.

'My father clearly doesn't mind wasting his money on the likes of you! You should be grateful I put up with you being here. The tutor was only employed to teach me and if it wasn't for Mother you wouldn't be allowed anywhere near him.'

'Oh,' I said, 'I'm sorry. I don't understand about such things. I just came because I was told.'

'Because you were told! What are you? Stupid? A slave?' Marcus was enjoying my discomfiture. I felt he made it plain that I had muscled my way into his private tuition and was not wanted.

'You'd better behave or you'll be sorry. Greeks aren't tolerant people and this one will tan your hide if you give him any lip.'

'I won't give him any lip. It's my first day at school. Can't we be friends?' I felt like crying again but was determined not to show it to this big boy.

'Friends? What a joke. I have friends. Friends my own age and they are the same social class. Why would I want to mix with someone like you? You aren't even a patrician.'

'Yes I am! I'm a Veridius Scapula. My father said so!'

'Your father's a fool, that isn't even a patrician name anyway.'

My anxiety escalated. This was not what I had expected. Why was he so nasty? I thought maybe it was because his father and mine were angry with each other. I longed for the day to end, yet it had only started.

I was about to argue, but Marcus, deciding that the conversation was at an end, walked around to the other side of the fountain and sat down on the edge. I did the same on my side of the fountain. I stared at the mosaic beneath my feet, trying to come to terms with this discouraging start. I remember a tightening in my throat and that my eyes felt a little moist. I missed my mother.

It was in this pose that Livia, Marcus' mother found me.

'Aulus! My little one!' she said in a high pitched but cultured voice, 'where is my hug?'

She held her arms open, bending at the knees. I for my part, although pleased with the display of friendliness, walked with uncertain steps towards her feeling somewhat daunted at first. The passage of time had clouded my recollection of her, for I had not seen her since I was a very small child. She leaned forward and her embrace enveloped me, eclipsing the world for a moment beneath the folds of her beautiful gown. I remember the smell of her hair, which had a pleasant scent of flowers. Her breath smelt of cloves. I think it was the first time I had smiled that morning.

'It's simply lovely to see you again! Why, it's been such a long time, I bet you hardly remember me!'

'I am most pleased to greet you aunt Livia,' I said, for I was a well-mannered child despite my age. Aunt Livia smiled back at me, a smile that swept formality aside in an instant. She was a cultured and attractive woman, her appearance enhanced by her elegant hairstyle and expensive red linen gown. As first impressions go, to an eight year old, it was overwhelming.

'Aulus, you don't need to be so formal. Even though I haven't seen you since you were small, I want you to feel at home here. We will talk later, but now I need to introduce you to your teacher, Gennadius. Where is Marcus? Oh there you are! Come over here. Have you met Aulus? You must be nice to Aulus he is your cousin after all.'

'Yes mother,' the sullen boy said, his face betraying him.

'Oh Marcus, you mustn't be in one of those moods of yours. Come with me you two and we'll meet your teacher. His name is Gennadius.'

I recall that she held my hand as we walked inside and her fingers were long, hard and cool. The feeling of tension had not resolved, my heart was beating fast, but I felt somehow that I might have found someone kind at last.

Chapter II

"A learned man has always riches in himself." - Phaedrus

A dog barked outside in the faint moonlight, urgent and urging. Father awoke with a start. He scratched his nose and looked at mother in the anaemic light that emanated from the small window. For some reason, she and I had awakened at the same time.

'I heard a noise,' Mother said.

'Shh!' my father replied, 'I can't hear.'

Awakened from sleep, I could hear a definite soft sound of someone moving around near the atrium, which led to the study. The room in which we slept also opened onto the atrium. The sounds were clearly audible through the thin wood of the door. Father sat up in bed. He reached for the stout wooden cudgel that he kept near the bed for such contingencies. He slipped out of bed. He appeared to have a clear intention of confronting the intruders

'Don't go in there!' Mother said, 'there could be a whole gang of them! Block the door and we'll wait until they have gone.'

Father was neither large nor was he any longer athletic as he had been in his youth. It took little encouragement from my mother to make him think better of disturbing whoever it was that was breaking into our home. He took a chair, wedged it against the door and tested its firmness. I slept on a small straw palette in the corner and I got up and huddled next to Mother for I was as frightened as she appeared to be. She, like my father was a little overweight, womanly as she said. She was gentle and never scolded. She had a way of calming me and she stroked my forehead with her hand with a softness and gentleness that only a mother could give to such a caress. If there is one thing about her, I remember it is that she always smelled good. She used Egyptian perfume made from the finest lotus flowers and the smell of lotus still brings back memories of her, her softness and warmth.

For what seemed a millennium, our terrified family sat embracing each other for comfort while the noise of someone moving furniture and things breaking; thrust itself grasping, through the door at us. With each crash or sound of breaking pottery, we jumped. My mother was shivering. At one point, someone tried to open the door and all three of us heard a sound, as of low menacing voices. Then silence.

Time passed and the dawn saw us still sitting in bed, immobilised by the events of the last hours.

'Do you think they've gone?' Mother said.

'This time I will have to go and see,' Father said.

He moved towards the door, with caution, as if he thought the burglars might still be lurking on the other side. He gripped his cudgel with both hands. He held it before him. He listened for what seemed like an age to me, before he moved the chair to one side and opened the door a crack.

'They've gone,' he said.

'Are you sure?' Mother said, fear betrayed in her soft, gentle voice. It made no difference to my anxiety.

'Yes it seems safe. You stay there.'

'Be careful.'

* * *

The amphitheatre was crowded with Romans. The sun shone high above us. I was sweating in my armour and the bronze shield weighed heavily on my left arm. The two of us faced each other in a mortal combat. There was blood on the sand, for some criminals had been set against lions in the preceding bout. The lions of course were easier to remove once their bellies were full. The Senator in the box signalled the beginning of the fight and I eyed my opponent. He was a huge Gaul but as we fought, he had dropped his guard. We circled each other. Our eyes met. His fierce bearded and scarred face was terrible to behold. His eyes were steel blue and cold.

I knew with a certainty that comes seldom in battle that I would win. The massive crowd cheered, the sound deafening, as it rose to a fever pitch. They had only come to watch the skill of the master of swordsmanship that I had become. They would not be disappointed.

I struck a massive blow, which hit the barbarian's shield. He took the full force of the blow and swung his long sword at my head. I parried with my gladius and pushed forward with my shield. It took him unawares and he stumbled back but I tripped him as he fell back. He lay defenceless looking up at me. I raised my sword for the final stroke.

'No, no! Spare me, I am just an ignorant barbarian' the vanquished Gaul said.

'Very well, I am after all a true Roman,' I said.

I turned to leave the amphitheatre as the crowd cheered me. The sound was deafening, but my opponent attacked again from behind. I had been a fool to leave him alive.

The raised sword never landed. I was quick as lightening. I parried. The ring of metal upon metal. The cheering crowd. A thrust here and a parry and stab. Through the heart!

I had struck down this treacherous enemy, who lay bleeding before me. I stood above him breathless and proud. The crowd roared as the barbarian champion fell, drowning his dying screams. Flowers were strewn and coins too. I would be a rich man at last and the world was mine!

'Aulus!' called mother, 'Aulus, your father wants you.'

'Yes Mother, I'm coming.'

I had to stop the game of gladiators with the neighbour's son and hanging the wooden gladius from my belt, crossed the courtyard to my mother, chasing my short shadow in the sunshine. Over my shoulder I said, 'Sorry Julius, we can play again later. You can be the Roman next time, promise.'

'He is in the study; he has something important to tell you' Mother said.

I went inside, resenting the abrupt ending of the game by the adult seriousness that seemed to pervade everything these days. My father sat at the table with a wooden box open in front of him.

'Aulus, come here lad. You see this box, with the scrolls in? Well, it contains the deeds to a large estate in Ariminium.'

'Does that mean we are rich really?'

'No, my son. We cannot claim it now, even though Sulla has retired. His people run the Senate and your uncle has much influence there. We cannot claim ownership and Marcus Mettius the elder has possession of the estate.'

'Is it stolen?' I said with widening eyes.

'No Aulus, it rightfully belongs to me. My father left it to me and when I go to Hades, it will belong to you. '

'Oh,' was all I could think to say.

'Those men that came in the night and did all that damage were after this document.'

'I see,' I said, but I did not realise that this conversation was to shape the pattern of the rest of my life. It is often so, for the Gods obscure meanings from us and we are left to busy ourselves in their unpredictable and unfathomable patterns.

'I am going to hide it. It will be hidden in the courtyard of this house and exactly where, is inscribed on this amulet, between the two stones.'

I looked at the trinket twinkling in my father's hand. It was a small, bright, oval, green stone, the size of a man's little finger nail. Father had dovetailed the two halves into each other and he had bound them with silver wire to hold them together.

'You must remember this. The message is very small and it is in Etruscan. You do know what Etruscan is, don't you?'

'Yes father.'

'Good. You must never take this off ever. Never give or sell it to anyone. It is the last piece of your family inheritance and you may need it when you are properly grown up.'

Father placed the amulet around my neck, where it hung on its double leather thong like a lucky charm. It was a tight enough fit, but invisible under the neck of my tunic.

'Father, may I ask you something?'

'Yes, my son, of course you can.'

'Why is everything so serious now? Even Gennadius seldom smiles.'

'You poor little chap,' he said, 'it is only because we adults get worried about things. It will get better.'

He ruffled my hair in an affectionate way.

'The burglars won't come back will they?'

'No, of course not. They didn't find the deeds and now when I have hidden them, there won't be any way for them to find them without the amulet. That is why you must keep it very safe. It is less than a year before you take up your manly robe and we will have to consider what you are going to do then.'

'I want to be a soldier.'

'The only successful way for you to do that, would be as a military Tribune and I have no money or influence to achieve that for you. Now that Marcus Mettius the senior is against us, it would be doubly impossible. He is rich and has influence and since you took it upon yourself to punch his son into oblivion I can't see that changing.'

'I'm sorry father, but he was trying to hit me; I got cross. Anyway that was almost three years ago and maybe they have forgotten.'

'They won't have forgotten. Just remember; never lose your temper like that again. It makes you hasty and you will do silly things.'

'Yes father.'

'Look at this. It's a ring for the chief vestal herself, just finished.'

'That's nice,'

'Is that all you can say? See how fine the features are on the medusa's head. It's a work of art! I suppose you're too young to appreciate how much work goes into these things. You will, one day I hope.'

'Yes father,' I said, shifting from one foot to the other. I was itching to be out and playing.

'Good, now run along and play. Gennadius will be here soon and I expect you to do well with your lessons.'

As I immersed myself in the game, I did begin to get a vague feeling that all the things my father had said would one day affect me, but for the moment, I was a Gaul, a big Gaul and one who this puny Roman would never get the better of in the arena.

Chapter III

"Adversity has the effect of eliciting talents, which in prosperous circumstances would have lain dormant." - Horace

I ran across Mars' Field that day feeling happy. I came to a breathless halt in front of my tutor. The Campus Martius was crowded that day. Young men ran to keep fit, others practised swordplay and groups of soldiers were being drilled by their Optios. I was smiling.

'I'm sorry I'm late, the training group has only just finished,'

'What have you been up to?'

'We've been running races and practicing with swords and shields. I won the contest.'

'Physical pursuits are always beneficial but the mind must be exercised as well.'

My mental picture of Gennadius is as a short, bald, kind man with a small wart on his left cheek. He told me once that he felt it made him look distinguished. He had never worried whether it would put women off. He had never married. He explained this to me one day, by saying that it was because the learned and sheltered life that he had led had kept him away from the opposite sex.

I think he enjoyed his bookish nature and took pride in his academic life perhaps as it turned out, because he had other distractions. Despite this, I knew by instinct that Gennadius understood children well, which the Greek would have been delighted to hear, for he had been teaching for almost thirty years.

'Yes Gennadius, I know. Can we go and look at the soldiers training over there first?' I indicated a squad of legionaries practicing their drill further away.

'Yes, but not too long. I must get back in good time to your uncle's home and your father has also asked me to meet him to discuss your further education.'

We walked a little closer and watched the recruits drilling on the hard, dry, cracked earth. I remember that I felt happy then and comfortable with my tutor who I had now known for more than four years.

The recruits had shiny new equipment and clean uniforms so I guessed that they were fresh untested soldiers. I was surprised at how well they performed. Open order, close order, columns of four. The drill went on and the men performed each manoeuvre as if they were one man.

Half an hour later, as Gennadius and I walked back towards the Capitoline to return home, I noticed a group of men, young and old, standing at a desk in front of a tent.

'Who are they?' I asked.

'They are legionary recruiting officers. Stay well away from them! They will tell you anything to get you to enlist and they are not fussy about how old you are! They are quite happy to take boys who are much too young for military service. Once you sign your name you are committed to twenty years of service and they strangle deserters.'

'Next month I can take up my manly robe and choose a career,' I said, I'm sure I could pass for fifteen.'

'In the next month, you should consider where to take your education further. I have friends in Alexandria and for a nominal cost they would take you for further education in philosophy and mathematics provided I recommend you.'

My mind was as far from philosophy and mathematics as it was from jumping into the Tiber with my clothes on, but I said nothing, for fear of offending my tutor. I wanted to join the Roman army and become a soldier like my grandfather and my great grandfather.

I had been brought up on tales of their military careers and was sure that one day I could lead armies too. I dreamt how the Senate might award even me a triumph. My mind pictured the scene already. Garlands of flowers being strewn around in front of my chariot, Aulus the Great standing, throwing silver coins to the adulation of the masses who lined the triumphal route. The cheers, the jollity...

'Aulus look there,' Gennadius was pointing to the city southwards. Wrenched from my reverie, I saw there was a plume of smoke rising in a dense cloud from somewhere to beyond the Forum Boarium, where my parent's home was.

It was the greatest fear of any Roman. Huge parts of the city were built of wood and a fire could spread rapidly. The whole of Rome could burn if only one small house fire became uncontrolled. There was no fire fighting service and if there were a fire, the whole neighbourhood would gather with buckets to help put out a blaze. It was not fellowship and support but self-preservation and the authorities knew this, which was why they had never felt they needed a fire-fighting service. It was expected that the citizens would react quickly and mostly they did, with help from the Town Guard.

Gennadius and I hurried south along the Via Triumphalis towards the Capitoline hill and ran part of the way, despite Gennadius holding us up with his breathlessness and his limp. We ran past the Ara Maxima and turned left at the Circus Maximus to the Clivus Scauri where the tenement I lived in was situated.

I drew to a halt, breathless and with my heart thumping. I had realised that the fire was in our neighbourhood as soon as I had crossed the Capitoline and stood stock still as I surveyed the scene before me. Gennadius joined me and stood by my side. Neither of us spoke, for words were unnecessary. The entire tenement had burned down. There were people milling all around the street outside and the Town Guard had turned out both to help and to keep people away from the blaze, which was under control by now.

We both rushed forward. I screamed at the guard who was keeping the crowd back.

'I live here.'

'In there? Not any more you don't,' he said.

'My parents, where are they?'

'If they got out, they may be over there,' the soldier said over the noise of the crowd and the crackles of the dying embers of the tenement building. The Town Guard had already collapsed the burning building to prevent spread of the fire. He pointed towards the far corner of the block of buildings.

Ignoring Gennadius, I began frantically calling my parent's names as I ran to the area the soldier had indicated. As I pushed through the crowd with urgency, I looked in desperation a familiar face and saw none. Gennadius joined me then. The throng of people had slowed him down. I saw an old man who lived nearby and who knew my parents. I pushed through the crowd towards him, followed by the small Greek.

'My parents. Have you seen them?' I pleaded.

The man turned to me.

'Aulus, where have you been?'

'I was on the Campus Martius. Where are my parents?' I had to shout above the noise of the crowd, but my voice had a desperate and high-pitched tone this time. I was on the verge of tears. My mind was racing.

'I haven't seen them, all I know is that there were shouts from the street to leave the buildings and by the time I came out the soldiers were collapsing the building to prevent the fire spreading. Were they both at home when you left?'

'Yes, but maybe they got out.'

'If they were caught in there, then they maybe couldn't get out. No one could live through that blaze. Someone said something about it smelling as if oil had caught fire. All the lamps must have caught. Sorry, Aulus I haven't seen them.'

'Where would they go if they got out?'

'They would still be in the street, I imagine, I will help you look for them,' the old man said, looking round at the crowd.

I began to walk up and down the street, frantic to find my parents. Soldiers, bringing buckets of water, were damping down the residual smouldering timbers. I approached one of them. I recognised him from the Campus Martius. My terror made me bold.

'Have you seen anyone come out of the building?' I asked, this time with tears streaming down my face, desperation in my voice.

'Sorry sonny, no one made it out of there. It smelt as if someone had burned a whole load of oil in the place. If there was anyone in there, they won't be coming out now. Lucky the whole street wasn't burned down. Did you know any of the occupants?'

'Yes,' I said, my sobs getting the better of me. I could not speak any more. Words would not come. I squatted in the street crying. Gennadius knelt at my side. He put his arm around my shoulders and I turned into the fat little Greek's embrace and sobbed inconsolably.

* * *

It was dusk, the sun sinking beyond the temples and tenements of our great city, threw long, almost solid shadows across the street. Gennadius and I knocked on the gate of the big house on the Quirinal. There was a smell of baking from a house across the road although it was a long way away and there was fearsome barking from the hounds in the house's compound. The gate hatch opened first as if the occupants needed to apply caution, but perhaps it was only my imagination, for evenings in Rome are never a safe time and roaming gangs of thugs and thieves abound even on the Quirinal.

'I'm sorry sir; the master has left strict instructions that the boy is not to be allowed in. I can't disobey him. I would be whipped if I did,' Cerberus said. He looked at me strangely.

'Don't you realise what has happened? This boy's home has burned down and maybe with his parents inside too. Have you no heart man?'

'I'm sorry sir. Maybe if you go up to the house and explain, the master will change his mind?'

'All right I'll try. Aulus wait here and I will go and see your aunt, if she will receive me at this hour, that is. I can't imagine that she would leave you out in the street.'

Gennadius walked up the path to the entrance. As he disappeared from sight, Cerberus let me sit in the janitor's hut for I must have looked ready to collapse.

Within a few minutes, Gennadius reappeared, walking as fast as his short legs and limp would allow. When he was half-way to the hut, Marcus the younger walked out of the doorway and picked up a stone. He threw it at the Greek and it hit him on the shoulder.

'Now get out, you filthy little Greek! And take that little dung heap with you.'

Gennadius did not as much as look behind him.

'Come on Aulus, we need a place to stay and tomorrow we will find out what happened to your parents.'

'What happened?'

'I am no longer employed by your uncle and your aunt was forbidden to see me even when she was told about the fire. I have never encountered people like this in all my travels.'

I felt as if my whole world had come apart. I could see no future. We made our way to the Subura. There was a Greek tavern there, which Gennadius was familiar with and he hired a room. I felt benumbed by the day's events. I knew it was unlikely, but I kept an ember of hope in my mind, that my parents might have escaped the fire and would be looking for me.

I sat on the straw mattress staring at the floor. What would become of me? Where would I go? I noticed my hands were trembling and felt tears welling up again in my eyes. When I looked up, Gennadius was opening the door and he entered carrying a small bundle of food. There was bread, figs and fruit.

'Here is something to eat,' the Greek said, 'You must keep your strength up. Tomorrow we will search the place thoroughly for any signs of your parents and then start questioning the neighbours to find out whether they escaped the fire.'

'No, I'm not hungry. Thank you. I don't know what to do now. Everything has gone away, I don't even know if they died or not.'

'That is just what we are going to find out tomorrow,'

I still stared at the floor, then exhaustion took me, I lay down and my eyes closed by degrees, as Somnus took me away, far from that terrible day, a day that was to remain in my memory forever.

Morning came. I had awoken before dawn and when Gennadius awoke, I was looking out of the window into the street. I had been staring at the cobbles below and watching an old woman emptying her chamber pot into the central channel of the street below. It emptied into the city's drains that led by circuitous routes into the Tiber. I had been wondering how it would feel to float all the way to the sea, away from Rome, from pain and grief. I turned to face the Greek when I heard him stir behind me.

'I think someone started the fire deliberately,' I said.

'What makes you think this? I don't think anyone would risk setting fire to a tenement in Rome for any reason. It could have spread to the whole city.'

'The soldier said it smelt of burning oil. My parents had only a little oil in the house for two lamps. It must have come from somewhere. I think someone set a fire but I know of no one who would do such a thing. Everyone loved my mother and father. They were kind people who hurt no one.'

I felt a lump in my throat and moisture in my eyes, thinking of my parents.

'Come, there is no need to think like that. We will go back to the street and start some enquiries.'

Gennadius and I packed up and left. We walked south through the busying streets as dawn rose on another day in the greatest city in the Empire. Street vendors were already out in the hope of getting custom from the students and trades people, who had begun to populate the streets on the start of another working day. The smell of the central channel of the street hung in the air, but no one noticed. The odour was so commonplace that no one noticed let alone remarked upon it. It occurred to me that it was quite an ordinary day for almost everyone except me and it confused me. No one else could be feeling as I did and no one apart from Gennadius understood.

The blackened ruins of our home gave few answers at first, but as we pushed our way through the charred remains, we came across two terribly charred bodies. It was clear they were human bodies but the twisted, blackened remains looked more like statues of charcoal than human forms to me. Perseus must have died too. We found a third body in the slave's room on what remained of the cot.

I knew in my heart that the bodies had been my parents and in an unexpected way, I felt relieved, as if the answer to a question had presented itself to me. There was a numbness in my thoughts, as if the truth of my grief evaded me. I could at least now arrange the funeral rites and could mourn them.

I had no idea how to organise such things for I was only a child, but Gennadius at least, was there to help and when we found the bodies, the tutor put a gentle hand on my shoulder for comfort.

When we went to the temple of Venus Libitina to arrange the funeral I realised how much trouble Gennadius was prepared to go to on my behalf. We did not even get to speak to the undertakers, the Libitinarii, but stood in line the whole morning, merely for a slave to deal with us.

'Were the deceased wealthy?' the Pollinctor said seated behind a desk on the steps of the temple. He had noted the names of my parents on a scroll before him and looked up at us with unblinking brown eyes. We had stood in line most of the morning and neither of us felt like going into details.

'No, not wealthy. They were in a burial society though. We have little money with which to pay.'

'Right, well, what we have on offer in that case is a simple ceremony. Where are the bodies?'

'They are still in the burned-out house,' Gennadius said.

'There is an extra charge for fetching the bodies I'm afraid. We can provide the flautist to follow them. Who is giving the extremum vale, the funeral oration?'

'I will speak on the boy's behalf.'

'Right, we will have to do the anointment here at the temple and we can take the short route out of the city after the extremum is spoken. Any special requests?'

'Do the Libitinarii perform the rites here or outside the walls?'

'Usually outside. They have many rites to perform now because of the fever in the Subura so it's quite busy. It will be a short ceremony I'm afraid. Death stalks the Subura just now.'

'How soon can you perform the funerary rites?'

'This afternoon, after the midday meal. We take about an hour's break at that time. Got to keep up our strength, death is all around us you know.'

I witnessed the whole conversation with a vague feeling of detachment. It was almost as if I was standing next to myself looking on and taking it in without being more than a spectator, like seeing a play unfold before me.

I remember the funeral well. It rained. There had been no need for the Pollinctores, the Libitinarii's slaves to wash the bodies because of their charred state. They anointed them with spices and perfumes.

I still felt benumbed, as they bore the bodies out of the city. A dreary tune played on a flute accompanied us to the city walls and they laid my mother, my father, and Perseus on three piles of wood. The oil burned with a strange smell of cooked meat mixed with incense. My father had belonged to a funerary club and they made a place in the Columbarium where they interred the ashes with all the others.

The whole business seemed to mean so little. It was a kind of anticlimax to their lives and I had no idea how to react. I had never experienced anything like this. Even when the Libitinarius sprinkled me with the purifying water, I did not react. A reaction to grief is involuntary. It grips you and leads you, passive in its clutches, to the despair that flows through all your thoughts.

* * *

'Aulus, you must try to eat something,' Gennadius said.

'I don't feel like it,' I replied. We were sitting in another bedroom in another tavern in the Subura. This was Rome's roughest area. It was a den of thieves characterised by gangs of thugs, who extorted money from shopkeepers and tavern-owners. They robbed and stole almost without any control. Few honest citizens were abroad after dusk.

A small oil lamp burned on the table in the impoverished lodgings in which I found myself. The smoke from the lamp irritated my nostrils. The flaking plaster and the rough, worn floorboards added a depressing atmosphere, as I sat on the straw palette on the cot under the window. The straw smelled damp. Someone laughed, drunk, outside.

Gennadius had tried to find work and he had received one or two interesting offers but he was living off his savings and with two mouths to feed, it was becoming a struggle. I knew that the present situation could not last forever. I understood that I would need some kind of work but since the death of my parents, I seemed to have lost all volition.

I spent most of my time in the room, grieving. The depths of my despair and bitterness had not made me good company and I knew it, but I was powerless in the grip of such strong emotions.

Gennadius had been kind, I think he realised that and it puzzled me. The Greek tutor had not only given me free tuition when my parents were alive, but had now taken me in and looked after me through the aftermath of the fire. Gennadius had paid for the funeral as well making all the arrangements. I understood all this but could still not come to terms with my grief enough to control my feelings and express my gratitude.

The tutor sat down beside me on the bed.

'Poor Aulus, what shall we do with you?'

'I don't know, I suppose I need to find some work.'

'Work? No, you are like a son to me. I will support you and you can finish your education. I am very, very fond of you.'

Gennadius, taking me by surprise, put his arm around my shoulders and pulled me towards him. His left hand moved to my thigh stroking, patting.

'Oh Aulus such affection as a man can have for his pupil! My fondness goes beyond anything I have felt before. In my home country such relationships as ours, between an understanding man and his willing pupil are well recognised to enhance both mental and physical existence!'

The Greek leaned forward, eyes closed and made to kiss me on the mouth. I was not large but I was muscular and strong for my age, at least enough so to push the potentially amorous man away with such force that he ended sitting on the floor looking up at me.

'What were you trying to do? I don't want to kiss you. You're a man!'

'It is just a sign of affection for someone you care for. Please don't be upset!'

The plump man got up and with both arms outstretched reached for me again as I stood by the door. For my part, I was horrified. I most certainly did not want any kind of physical relationship with anyone and least of all this Greek tutor. I felt angry and confused. I had been so grateful to Gennadius but now was suspicious of his motives, past and present and found it hard to face him.

I slipped through the door as the Greek clutched the empty air I had occupied seconds before. I ran down the stairs and out into the emptying street to the accompaniment of Gennadius wailing from the window, 'Aulus, Aulus, come back!'

I was angry, disillusioned and above all fearful about what to do next. All I could think was that I had to get away from the Greek. Gratitude seemed to take very much a second place in my thoughts, although I knew that might have been wrong.

Heads turned as I made my way through the alley. In my anger and confusion, I ran down the small cobbled street and came into a small square. It was getting dark and there were only a few people abroad there, most of them hurrying home. With no street lighting and no protection from the gangs of thugs that roamed the Subura, few Romans would want to be out in the dark. Those that were, stared at me, for a lone child wandering the streets at that time was unusual.

I must have looked scowling and sullen for no one spoke to me or even smiled. I slowed to a walk when I reached the far end of the square. I sat in a doorway wondering what to do. A spider crawled across my hand. I flicked it away and looked around me. As the shadows lengthened, I could see no one. I was alone. The street was empty as my purse.

As I sat and pondered my position, I decided not to return to Gennadius. He had tried to kiss me! Why? What would make a man behave like that? I had heard my father laugh about Greeks and make jokes about how they were fonder of each other than of their wives, but had not then understood what the humour was intended to express.

I thought I knew now and I thought with revulsion that it was wrong. With anger rising again within me, I put my chin on my knees and tried to sleep but no sleep came. I realised that I was hungry and it was early yet.

I toyed with the little green stone around my neck. Feeling it's neatly wired exterior beneath my fingers, I thought of my father. The thoughts forced their way into my consciousness like an unwelcome guest. I saw his face in front of me, his smile, his rounded features and I felt pain deep inside me. It was pain I had no experience of, nor had I imagined how acute such pain could be.

Where had my life gone? In only a few days, all had gone. My home, my mother's arms, her soft caresses, had vanished into a nightmare from which I wished I could awaken. I wanted my parents. I needed to feel the warmth, the enveloping love - but it was all gone now. No. I could not think about it. I would not think about it. Think of something else. No use.

Only a few days ago I was on the Campus Marius, running, playing, with no concerns apart from where my education might take me. Then all gone, into smoke, into fire. Gloomy thoughts of death, destruction and disillusionment were all I had left. The amulet seemed to grow then in my fingers or perhaps in my mind. It was all that was left \- it was my family, a thought, a consciousness buried deeply, darkly, within it. My father, my mother, everything. It represented to me all that I loved and I was almost comforted that I had that still. The fact of that love was intangible, elusive but still mine, as embedded in the amulet as it was inside me. I chose to bury the pain. I forced myself to avoid it. Think about something else.

Gennadius. What had he been thinking? I had trusted him. Had he been trying to seduce me? Had he planned it all along? My young mind began to wonder if he had set the fire. Could he have done that to get me on my own? No, not Gennadius. I had known him long enough to know that he was a genuinely kind man and anyway, he had been with me when the fire happened. I knew deep inside that he was good. He was a slave to his nature - a prisoner.

I began to ponder what I could do now. I knew I was too young to join the legions and too small in the body to pass for a fifteen year old, despite anything I had proclaimed to Gennadius. It dawned upon me that I would have to find work or try begging. I had seen beggars at the Servian Gate before and although my father had said not to give them anything, I had done so once. Father had been angry, saying that giving to beggars encouraged them. I began to realise what made people beg. I resolved to try to get work as a delivery boy but if that did not work, the Servian Gate was only a short walk away and I could try begging. Surely, someone would give me enough for a meal. The feeling of hunger was unfamiliar and I was alone.
Chapter IV

"Now he is treading that dark road to the place from which they say no one has ever returned." - Catullus

I was thirteen years old and I was alone. The hunger gnawing away at my insides is the only excuse I can offer for the way I behaved; I should have known better, but a craving for food can drive anyone to anything.

I sat in the oppressive heat on the sun-baked ground, outside Rome's Servian Gate. The air was still and the dust from the Via Servia hung in billows every time someone rode or walked into the city.

A man, leading a donkey laden with trade goods, passed and scowled at me as if I should not be there. A group of four young girls overtook him, giggling and shoving as only young people do. A big Nubian slave followed behind, he was there to protect them. The girls did not spare me a glance; they were too busy talking in their cheerful high-pitched voices. It was a merry summer's day for them, but not for me. It felt this way, because I had no luck at finding work and now, not even at begging. Perhaps I possessed no talent for it; perhaps I lacked charm. I wondered what I needed to do to get someone to feed me.

A middle-aged man approached; a leather satchel on his shoulder.

'Please sir, a copper as for a hungry boy, please sir.'

The man looked at me with palpable disgust. He sneered.

'Get some work, you little parasite.'

'Please sir, anything; I've had nothing to eat for two days.'

'Get away from me you street scum,'

He tried to cuff me across the mouth and walked away. Judging by his clothes, he was no wealthy man, but it was clear even an ordinary fellow like him, detested beggars like me. It reminded me of where I was in the pecking order.

I sat down again, my back to the wall with my knees bent up to my chest; I hugged them as if curling up would still the hunger pangs. A loud rumbling came from my stomach anyway so it was an ineffectual ploy. I prayed I could have my parents back. I longed for my home and a reversal of the terrible events pitching me into this miserable place. I dared not think too hard upon it all though; it made me want to cry. The gentle tension in the back of my throat was a warning to stop thinking about what was gone, so I forced myself to consider the present and pushed my grief into some deep corner of my mind lest it overwhelm me. It was a trick I often used, a mental protection; an escape.

The concept of tasty, succulent food began to infiltrate my mind again. It seemed relentless. I thought about fruit, bread, and meat - roasted, fried, salted or boiled. I could see it in front of me, almost taste it in my mouth. I swallowed the involuntary saliva and it seemed to make the orchestra performing in my stomach even louder. I looked around me. I saw a sedan chair in the distance, making its way across the flat, cracked ground as it approached the gate.

Presently, I noticed the arrival of a street vendor. He was selling bread and a fish stew from a wheeled barrow. The smell reminded me of happier days, laughter and a full stomach. This cruelty of the senses, appreciating and drinking in the sumptuous odour, was overwhelming. I watched disconsolate, as the sedan stopped at the stall and a large fat man emerged. A good few dinners must have gone into that enormous paunch. He purchased a bowl of delicious, steaming, tasty and satisfying stew and a loaf of beautiful, white, tempting, glorious bread. It was only a single-meal sized loaf but enough to make my eyes project on stalks with envy. I licked my lips.

As the man bit into the bread, I felt my mouth watering and imagined my teeth crunching into the crust. There can be no sound so compelling to a hungry mind than the sound of teeth sinking into a crusty loaf. I could almost taste it as well as hear it. My mouth moved with an involuntary chewing movement.

Then it happened. Somehow, the Gods turned my envy to anger. The anger turned to action. Why should others eat when I could not?

I was desperate to eat. I was quick and I knew I could run fast as anyone. Faster than most. Take the bread. The thought spread in my consciousness like a fire. A relief from hunger, a relief from the pain in my stomach, the pain in my very shade.

How to get it?

The man was fat. He would not run. He could not run. Perhaps a chance of food, a way to relieve the cramps digging away at my innards like crabs on a corpse.

I walked up to the diner in a casual way and began to walk past. Easy now, don't overdo it. I smiled as the plump fellow raised chubby, grasping fingers to his mouth. They looked like sausages to my hungry eyes. The bread almost reached his lips again when, quick as boiled asparagus, I grabbed and ran. As the stew spilled down his tunic, I skittered away. I ran so fast it surprised even me. I ran through the Servian gate to a chorus of cries behind me.

'Thief!'

'Stop him.'

'Thief, my food!'

Grown men jumped out at me, people pursued me, but I dodged and ran. I ate as I ran, savouring the rewards of my perdition. When I reached the Subura by running past the Circus and the Forum Boarium, there was no bread left; not even a crumb. I had never eaten on the run before, but in successive weeks, I learned it could be the sweetest meal and I did it over and over again. Rome is after all, a big place for a small person.

Perhaps stealing food from the customers of street vendors revealed a kind of hunting instinct in me. I do not know. I only understood it allowed me to survive, to flourish, to live. I slept rough. I walked the streets at night and found festivals were the best time of all. They gave food away and people were careless about where they left their things.

My problem was where to sell the things I stole, since more than food entered my grasping fingers. One particular night, during the Saturnalia, when people gave each other presents and almost everyone in the street was drunk, I came across an over-refreshed man in a toga, who sat snoring in a doorway near the Forum Romanum.

The sound of revellers was all around and it was late. Groups of drunken merrymakers backslapping and laughing meandered their inebriate way home and decorations in the streets were beginning to look forlorn and abandoned as they waved in a light breeze.

Splashes of red wine stained his toga and he slept with the depth only contented inebriation can imbue. With each snore his nose twitched and on occasion, he raised a hand as if to touch his face, but in his drunken state, it was a half-hearted movement coming to nothing.

He was clutching a small bundle wrapped up in a linen cloth, with one hand. I reasoned it was Saturnalia after all and everyone else got a present. This was my gift from the Gods. It needed no skill to relieve him of his burden either. I did not even have to run this time. Grinning like a Greek, I walked away with the swagger of any thirteen-year-old thief and found a quiet corner in which to examine my purloined treasure.

The bundle contained a filigree triangular necklet, made of gold and silver wire. I pondered what to do with it. I realised I needed to sell it, but where? In the Subura there were people who would buy anything, but I had no idea how to make sure they did not cheat me. I wanted what it was worth.

Next morning, I walked along the main street of the Subura, at the start of the Vicus Longus, to where I had seen a jeweller and lapidary shop on my wanderings. I stopped across the street and waited to see who the jeweller's customers might be. I knew from my father's business, one could judge the jeweller by his customers. Had I not heard my father say so often enough?

After almost an hour, I realised the clientele were local Suburans and a few very rough looking men. I began to become street-wise at last. They were unlikely to be buying jewellery for their wives, even if they had any. I walked into the shop as if I knew with certainty what I wanted. A brash swagger was all it took.

'Yes?' enquired the jeweller.

He was a small, thin man with a puckered scar on his cheek and a look of seriousness and suspicion in his dark eyes, which I could understand. He was sensible enough to know a thirteen-year-old was not the type of customer known to frequent jewellers, least of all, a lad dressed in a tight, dirty and tattered tunic, worn to a ravelling.

'I have something to sell which might interest you. It is a piece of family jewellery of great value and I can only sell it at the right price. My mother lies dying of an illness and requires a doctor. The Greek bastard won't come unless we pay him first, so Mother sent me to sell this item at the best possible price. You may not be able to afford to buy it.'

'Here let me look at it,' the jeweller said, with a sigh of resignation, 'You young thieves seem to tell the same story every time! Steal it from a rich consul's wife or something?'

'Steal? I would never do such a thing. If you offer me a fair price there might be more family treasures to sell as time goes by.'

'All right but let me look at it at least. I won't take it from you. The last thing I want is to attract attention.'

The jeweller examined the necklet. 'It's a fine piece,' he said, 'I can offer twenty sesterces and not more.'

'Twenty's not enough. My father was a jeweller and I know its worth.'

'A jeweller, you say? What was his name?'

I hesitated and then told the man about the fire and how Father died. It was no secret after all.

'I knew your father, we had dealings from time to time and we met at the Lapidary Guild sometimes. He was a fine technician. The last thing of his coming to me was a ring. Here, I have it still.'

The jeweller reached under his desk and pulled out a box. He produced a ring with a large green gemstone. It depicted a carved medusa's head. I recognised it at once.

'Why did my father sell it to you?' I said, 'It was meant for the Chief Vestal.'

'It was no Vestal who sold it to me. It was a rough looking slave from the Quirinal. Cerberus, I think his name was. Why they have to give these silly Greek names to their slaves I don't know.'

'My father made it just before the fire and it was due to be collected anytime after.'

'If you're trying to say it's yours you can forget it! I bought it fair and square and you're not having it!'

'No, that's not what I meant. You might be able to sell it still to the House of Vestals. I'm interested to know how the slave got it though.'

'I really don't know. Ask no questions; hear no lies, that's my motto. Now if you've finished passing the time of day, I have work to do. I'll give you twenty-five sesterces, for your father, he was a decent man.'

I took the money. I now possessed enough for food and I bought a new tunic from a stall in the Forum Suarium and it left me enough to pay for a month's lodgings in a tavern.

Thieving became my art and my living. I never seemed to question it and I was damned good at it too. It kept me alive but deep inside, I knew it was not my real destiny. How could I reconcile my daily dishonesty with the noble family to whom I owed my very existence? The honour of family and memories of my parents lay buried deep most of the time; but all things hatch out in time.

Guilty thoughts haunted me when I was alone, before sleep or sometimes when I awakened. The dingy rooms, the dirty alleyways and the dregs of Roman society, seemed to mirror my feelings of dejection and unhappiness with the turns my life took and the person I was becoming. I lost my pride, abandoning my morals and my scruples. I would take anything from anyone as if the world owed me for the losses I suffered. Betrayal took a hand in this shaping of my mind. I felt I was a child betrayed by all who mattered to me. I wanted revenge upon the world and everyone in it. The world took from me and it was my right to take from the world in return.

I swam in a sea of bitterness and anger in those days.

Chapter V

"Men in general are quick to believe that which they wish to be true." - Gaius Julius Caesar

I had grown enough to pass for sixteen years old at least and in the Subura, no one asked questions. I was very fit. My thieving required a lot of running and I practised on the Field of Mars often, with other lads of my own age. I made no friends and was careful to avoid too much social contact with my peers for I feared that they would find me out as the thief I had become.

I began to break into houses and some of the goods I stole were valuable. The jeweller in the Subura always bought my loot and we had a good working relationship. I stole, the jeweller bought and we both seemed content.

I often puzzled over how the slave Cerberus whom I remembered well, had gotten his hands on the vestal's ring. It dawned upon me that there had to be a connection with the fire, for father would never have parted with the ring otherwise. It was a gradual process, but I worked out that my parents had probably been murdered and I suspected who had done it although I had no proof. I buried that one deep in my head for the more I thought about it, the more painful it became. I never connected it with the map in the amulet around my throat at that time.

I slept during the afternoon, as most Romans did. It was at those times that the thoughts were most intrusive. In the half-sleep of daytime rest, my hand always strayed to the amulet around my neck. It was strange in one way. Most parents give their infant boys a bulla, an amulet that they wear until adolescence. In my case, it was a gift when I was older for my father had not believed in such things before then. The lateness of the gift made it special. Father's own hands had made it and it was doubly precious to me for that reason. There was more to it than that. It became a representation of all that was of value in life to me. I fingered it and thought of my parents, my love for them and my loss. It was still a comfort, despite the memories and gradually those memories became a little less painful and when they surfaced, I did not always want to cry. Sometimes remembered scenes would make me smile as I lay on my cot in the dingy tenement rooms that I could hire. The amulet helped me sleep and became a depository for my treasured memories.

At night, I prowled the well-off areas of the city. My favourite was the Quirinal, where the biggest houses were. Famous people lived upon that hill and the richer you were the higher up the hill you lived. I broke into houses if they were empty or if they looked an easy target.

One afternoon, I found a smallish house, by Quirinal standards, but it appeared empty, so I resolved to try it that evening.

The night sky was starlit but there was no moon and I felt conditions were ideal. I decided to climb the wall that led to what I anticipated would be the peristylium, a colonnaded garden. A tree growing close to the wall afforded an access to a keen climber and presented no difficulties.

I scaled the tree and using an overhanging branch, dropped onto the wall and then down to the ground. There were rooms opening off the peristylium, but as slaves were the usual occupants, I gave them a wide berth.

There was a small staircase leading up to the first floor and once I was sure there was no one awake in the house, I ascended the stairs. There was no sound, not even a dog barking and I felt my confidence growing that there was no one in the house.

The first floor had a corridor with rooms opening off it. I walked stealthily to the room at the end and with delicate care pushed the door ajar. It was a bedroom and it was silent and empty. A divan stood in the corner and a desk held a wooden box with a lock. I walked slowly to the desk and opened the unlocked box, listening all the time. There were some scrolls and writing implements but nothing of real value, so I began to look around for something more lucrative. With each passing moment, I felt more at ease and relaxed. With no one in the house, I could take my time and perhaps find jewellery or something else of value.

The chest that stood in the corner only contained clothes, a sword belt, a scabbard and a new pair of sandals. There were no valuable ornaments and as I made my way through the various rooms, I concluded that the owners were not particularly wealthy.

I stood on the landing and decided to go to the Atrium where people often kept statues and ornaments. A thick silence, almost tangible, hung in the air and although the place seemed deserted, I began to have an uncomfortable feeling, as if someone was observing me. I stopped in the dark and stood still. Had there been a sound, I might have jumped six feet in the air, for I was as tense and wound as a spring.

Moments passed. Still no audible signs of life. I looked around me. I listened. I heard a dog bark far off and a laugh in the street. The house remained as silent as a tomb. I entered the atrium through a corridor from the peristylium and as I made my way downstairs, I thought there was a faint sound from one of the slave's rooms below. I flattened myself against the wall in the stairwell, but after a few moments, there was no further sound and I put it down to my imagination.

The atrium had some chairs and two divans, and it was clear that the occupants took some meals here, for there were some unwashed bowls that had contained food recently, on a low table. I was puzzled by the deserted house. It seemed lived in, but empty.

In a niche in the wall, stood a small gold statue, which reflected a faint beam of light from the street outside. I felt drawn to it. It was of a soldier holding a short sword high above his head and on its base was embossed the letters: 'PRIMVM PILA LEGIO IX HISPANIA'.

I had no idea what the inscription meant but I thought it was a golden military piece from its weight, so I was about to put it into my leather pouch when a faint rustling behind, made me turn. I was to recall that sound a thousand times, for I almost collapsed at the sight of the man facing me.

The soft beam of light from the window outlined him. That same faint light revealed that his contorted features grimaced and snarled. He thrust a blade at my chest. It pushed me back against the wall. I glimpsed a scar running down one side of his face. An opaque eye that did not move.

I had jumped almost out of my sandals when I saw him, but the blade point at my chest made my knees tremble and I felt a wave of sweat. Panic. An urgent message from my bladder. The end had come. I knew death when I saw it and cursed myself for my stupidity.

I tried to push the blade away, but the man held it firm. The point began to hurt as it pinned me against the wall. The man looked at me and said nothing. His silence was as terrifying as his appearance. Moments passed without a sound, then sweet relief; he raised the blade. I was on the point of wetting myself.

'I should kill you for the little thief you are,' the man said in a gravely voice, 'but I don't often kill kids.'

The accent was rural and crude and the word 'often' did nothing to inspire confidence. I noticed my knees were trembling.

'I am most sorry to be here but I thought the house was empty. I wasn't trying to steal, honestly.'

'Trying to steal my retiring present were you? Of the ten Centurions left in that legion after the battle, I was the only one rewarded in that way and it offends me to have a brat like you even touch it.'

'I was only looking at it, you must be very proud.'

I reached behind me with a quick and dextrous movement replacing the ornament without taking my eyes from the man in front. The old soldier raised his right hand deftly and fast and the hilt of the gladius struck me on the chin hard.

I remembered no more until morning.

When I awoke, it was to the sound of birdsong and a headache. The sun was shining above me and I could not move. My hands felt numb, tied behind my back and I was unable to change my posture, for a cord stretched up from my hands and fettered feet, to encircle my throat. My captor sat on a stool in the peristylium and regarded me with cold killer's eyes and a faint smile.

The face that confronted me had only one functioning eye and there was a scar reaching from forehead to chin that had even I realised had healed badly for it drew the face towards it in a frightening grimace. If anything, the face looked marginally worse in broad daylight than it had in the gloom of the Atrium in the night. It kindled thoughts of demons and furies, dead souls and Hades and worse still pain and eventual oblivion.

'Why would a thieving little rat like you break into an old soldier's home in the dead of night? You must have known there are penalties for doing what you were trying to do. I think I might torture you a little before I send you on your way to Hades. Well what have you got to say for yourself?'

He got up and poked at me with his sword.

I tried to reply with some glib excuse but no words came, my mouth was dry. My heart palpitated beneath my ribs and I was breathing fast. Fear had chased away all my thoughts and replaced them with visions of torture and death. I was so young I thought, I had my whole life ahead and here I was. It finally happened then, I could not control my bladder any longer. I lay in the pool of urine and tears came too.

Quintus Cerialis, former prefect of the Ninth Legion regarded his handiwork with satisfaction. I did not know it then but he was in reality, a kind man and his intention of frightening me seemed fulfilled. He must have found it hard to keep up the terrorising, for he was not a bully, which became apparent, for he let me up after cutting my bonds.

'Clean yourself up.' His voice low and serious, he handed me some underclothing and indicated a small hand-pump in the corner of the courtyard.

I stood there. There was a lack of understanding at first. One moment death, painful death, loomed ahead like some approaching cloud and in the next, the sentence had miraculously been revoked. I washed myself and put on the clean underwear. I looked round and found the Prefect regarding me, the look of anger still clear upon his contorted face. I hoped he was not of the same ilk as Gennadius. There would be no escape if that were the case.

'Are you still going to kill me?' I looked him in the eye. As soon as I spoke I realised it was a stupid thing to ask. I was irritated by it and angry with myself.

'We all die soon enough. Don't tempt me to hasten the end for you. I could do it and no one would be any the wiser, boy.'

'But you won't will you?'

'You have committed a serious crime. I don't have to kill you, there are worse punishments for the likes of you, punishments that fit the crime. If I hand you over to the Aediles, you'll face ten years as a galley slave and believe me, few survive more than five years and no one survives the full term.'

'I, I'm really, really sorry sir,'

'Sorry! What do you mean, sorry? We're all sorry for something. Sorry doesn't put it right. You were here because your whole life has been wrong. You don't know discipline. You don't know right from wrong!'

'I don't understand,' I said, on the verge of tears again. I was not used to being berated in this way. Nothing he had said so far had a glimpse of comfort and I still did not know his intentions.

'You will understand when that overseer flays your bleeding back with his leather whip! D'you think you can get away with the kind of life you lead? Where are your parents? Who are they anyway, to let a child like you loose on the streets at night?'

I was hesitant at first as I began to tell Quintus the truth about how I had become a thief. I hoped that the prefect would feel sorry for me despite himself.

'If you have children, you will understand how I felt; I was on the streets of Rome hungry and desperate. A poor orphan. Where could I turn?'

'Look you little thieving rat, I have no children that I know of and you can quit trying to make me feel sorry for you, it won't work!'

'I was just looking for some food. I haven't eaten in days.'

'You look plump enough to eat, you little liar. Do you think the legions employ imbeciles as Prima Pilae?'

He looked at me and I recognised the look in his one eye. It betrayed sympathy despite his scarred appearance, but the fact of the intended theft interfered with any compassion that I could wring from him. I began to relax a little, as the spectre of imminent death receded. I still kept an eye on the short sword in his hand. He was silent for a few minutes, pondering my fate. I was still unsure whether he might kill me or not.

'I'll give you a choice boy. It's a simple choice. You can become a man, or you can go to the galleys. I have influence with the Ninth Legion and can get you enlisted with ease.'

'But I'm not old enough.'

'I don't care how old you are, you need military discipline.'

'I don't know anything about being a soldier.'

'You'll learn soon enough! It made me what I am to-day. And what is that I hear you ask? I am a man with honesty, integrity and discipline. Things that even a little street rat like you can learn. They dragged me from the same gutter as you and they made me into a man. A fighter and a killer, but a man. I have led a life and seen things that a worm like you wouldn't believe! All for the glory of Rome!'

'But...'

'Silence! A life of honour, a life of comradeship and fidelity,' Quintus spoke with feeling, thrusting his stubbly face close to mine, his eye was staring wide and I wondered if he was a little mad.

'If you can do that, boy, I will help you to become a soldier. If you refuse, then I'm sorry for you, you'll be seasick for the rest of your short life. Well?'

It seemed to me that the only way out of the predicament, the only way to escape, was to humour this fierce man and embark upon the very career that I had wanted since I was a ten year old. It made sense to capitulate. I had no thoughts of escape. No thoughts of running away, yes, I would become a soldier and meet what seemed to be my destiny.

'All right then, I'll join the legions. Is the Ninth a good one?

I wished in the end I had not asked, for I was treated to the strategies of Pompey in Spain and the role that the Ninth Legion had played in suppressing the tribes that threatened Roman rule.

We ate during the lecture. Fruit, figs, and bread with watered wine appeared and the prefect never ceased speaking all the while. It was a diatribe.

It was late afternoon when Quintus took me by the scruff of the neck in a grip of steel, to the recruitment stall on the Campus Martius.

'Quintus! How are things?'

The man who spoke was an officer. He was a tribune but I did not know that then.

'Not bad. I have a new recruit for you.'

'Oh?'

'Yes he has expressed extreme keenness and enthusiasm to join the Ninth, but he may need a bit of watching, he had a tricky side to him.'

'How old is he?'

'Old enough.'

'You're sure? The general has been having a crackdown on the age we recruit at. He said that the younger ones don't fight well.'

'I can vouch for his age. He'll fight well enough.'

'If you say so. Word has it we're going to Etruria to train in a few weeks.'

'I think that will suit my reprobate friend here. He's never been out of Rome. He has expressed a wish to see more of the world and out of the kindness of my heart I have agreed to let him.'

All this took place without either of them so much as glancing at me. It annoyed me, but I could no more break the grip that Quintus had on my tunic than I could have dealt with the Gordian knot.

'He needs to sign here,' the tribune said indicating a scroll of papyrus in front of him.

'Sign it,' Quintus said, 'you can write can't you?'

'Yes sir,' I said, and wrote my name.

'He might be useful as a scribe in that case,' the tribune said, 'if he can write, he might even be useful to the General's scribes.'

'He needs his proper training first, this one.'

'Of course, the training hasn't changed from your day or mine.'

'Over there lad,' Quintus said and pushed me roughly towards a huddled group of new recruits of varying ages, supervised by a squat, stocky Centurion. The realisation that I was now a soldier began to dawn on me like a tattoo, painful and permanent.

When they herded me with the others to the camp, Quintus did not say goodbye. He did not even bid me luck or farewell, nor did he look over his shoulder. I was sorry for that, but hoped he would spare me a thought in the years to come, for he had changed my life.

A tall thin Optio shoved me into line and I wondered if all that had happened in the Subura could have been for a reason. Perhaps the Gods had planned all this for me to become a soldier. The thought disappeared almost as fast as it had evolved. I knew it was the way things happened, in this strangest of worlds.

I did not mind the discomfort of the barracks nor did I mind the physical activity for I was a fit young man. It was the loss of my freedom that rankled. I was used to going where I wanted and doing things in my own time at my pace. It took long weeks for them to instil in me that a soldier is only a tiny speck of sand on a huge beach and the sea of discipline rolled in upon it anyway. There was as much use in challenging that new discipline as there was in dreaming of wealth. I knew it and I took it into my mind and body with a maturity that was uncharacteristic for one as young as I was. It was only weeks before I realised that to become a soldier I had first to abandon my individuality. I had no fears for that, because I had not liked the person I was becoming in the Subura and I knew that, hard as it was, the Legion was offering me an escape.
Chapter VI

"If fortune favours you do not be elated; if she frowns do not despond." – Ausonius

It was a cold spring day. The officers had arranged the sword contest almost six months before and no one had anticipated the poor weather. A cool wind swept across the Campus Martius swaying the grass into little eddies and swirls, driving the sloping rain into every tiny aperture of my clothing.

Riding on the breeze, was the ever present odour of the Tiber. The poor river, Father Tiber, into which every sewer in Rome emptied, gave out the smell of its contents, which always surrounded it like an odiferous cloud. A good day in Rome carried the smell away to the west. On this particular day, it was a west wind and the stench did nothing to enhance the sweaty smell of the seven thousand legionaries gathered around us.

The Augurs, dressed in their long black robes stood on the podium, undaunted by the rain, mumbling their incantations to Mars. Everything in Rome started with augury for we are both religious and superstitious.

The legionaries, remarkable for being even more superstitious than most, betrayed no great interest in the religious proceedings. Perhaps it was because they were impious but more likely, they were impatient to see what was to them, the most important event in the month. The augurs stunned the ewe and cut its throat. They proclaimed the liver to be clear and the entrails clean and at last we could begin.

The entire Ninth Legion had bought tickets and the eight pairs of contestants stood facing each other in two lines. The spectators murmured in anticipation.

I had drawn Titus Percennius, a small fast man from Brundisii. I knew him slightly, for two years before we had been in the same barracks when we were on manoeuvres in Sicilia. Percennius was experienced in swordplay but I thought I might have the edge on him if I kept my wits about me.

My Centurion, Asinnius, had trained me with the gladius and had given me a few tips. He was a short man with greasy black hair that hung down over his forehead when he took off his helmet. He had a habit of frequently brushing it aside with his hand. He was mostly pleasant but had a short temper and he had a reputation for venting it on anyone to hand. He also had a reputation as a gambler and rumour had it that his debts had reached astronomical proportions. I knew that he had money riding on the outcome of the sword contest but of course, it made little difference to me. I did not have much money and would never have betted with the little I did have. I always remembered my father describing gambling as a fool's game.

'Remember it's a fight to first blood and not a mortal combat. We aren't Germans you know,' Asinnius said.

'Can I draw blood from anywhere?' I asked.

'Yes but it's not like gladiators fighting. You have to avoid the groin, throat and face. Of course we get an occasional grudge fight where one of them dies but that's very unusual.'

'So I have to fight will all the skill I can muster but not hurt my opponent?'

'Something like that. Here I'll show you my favourite move.'

Asinnius feinted with his sword to his left and as I parried, the Centurion knelt to my left. He reached out to his left fast and touched my knee with the flat of his sword. He rolled away before I could respond. He got up breathless and smiled.

'If that was a contest, I would have cut you a little but only enough to draw blood and I would have won. Now you try it.'

'What do I get if I win the whole contest?'

'Forget it; you won't win the whole contest. The man who will win, is an officer called Meridius. He is the fastest thing that ever walked on two legs and believe me he can run rings round a pup like you!'

'Don't bet on it!'

'Believe me, I will.'

I was fast. Asinnius knew it from the hours he had spent training me and he and his friend Barbus, Centurion of the third cohort, had bet a large portion of their month's wages on me winning my first bout. The Centurions knew that I stood no chance of winning the contest. They knew quite well that my speed alone was not enough and that experience counted for more. Experience was the one thing I lacked, since the only fighting in three years in the Ninth Legion had been in Crete, when the legion, under Quintus Caecilius Metellus had helped put down a minor rebellion. Even then, it had only been one small skirmish and I had drawn blood just once.

The eight pairs of contestants lined up facing each other, far enough apart that the fights would not interfere with each other. I looked at my opponent; I fiddled with the green stone around my neck hoping I would get luck from it. I could feel the silver wire wound around it, worn smooth in places by my examining fingertips. Percennius smiled in a friendly way. I suppose he was full of confidence and had nothing against the youngster he saw before him.

The fighting began with a roar from the assembled legionaries. We were all armed with the short gladius sword of the legions. It was short, broad bladed and double-edged. Each of the contestants had sharpened their weapons to razor sharpness for a tiny nick in the skin would give them the bout. Each of us carried a small round shield such as the auxiliary soldiers carried, because a scutum, the large oblong shield of the Roman infantry, would have been an impossibly cumbersome obstruction to skilful swordplay.

The wet ground beneath our feet was churned into mud in no time as each contestant circled the other in the sloping rain, with small sidesteps, looking for an opening.

Percennius was an experienced sword fighter and nimble with it. He feinted to his left. Then, quick as a snake, the sword swung to the right. The speed took me by surprise. I managed to protect my right arm with my shield, but it was close.

Next to us, we could hear a gladius hammering a shield. The crowd roared in anticipation of someone's fate. It all came into my mind at once. I realised I would need all my concentration and focus. My opponent was already stepping forward for another try.

This time I knew what to expect. I realised both of us were fast. The only edge I could gain would be from anticipation. I pictured what I thought Percennius would do. I decided to move. I stepped forward.

Expecting a feint as before, I parried to my left. I struck upwards with the edge of my sword. He parried. Our shields clashed. Thrust - parry - shield - thrust - slash. The weapons became a blur of moving, molten steel. Within moments, we both stepped back, unscathed and breathless. There were similar movements all around us. I felt a back thrust against mine, hard and unforgiving.

Percennius winked. He winked, smiled and stepped forward. I felt he was scorning me. It made me react. As my opponent had expected, I thrust forward with my shield. I held back my sword. I made a forward slicing cut aimed at his left arm behind the locked shields. Percennius was too quick. As he blocked, shield to shield, he reached under mine in a short quick lunge. It would have caught me on my left forearm. Anticipation is everything. I had already moved aside. As Percennius' arm withdrew, I stabbed. Across his chest behind his shield, I caught the outstretched arm. I had cut a small nick below the elbow.

We stepped away from each other and a Centurion checked Percennius' arm. He raised his right hand and pointed to me. There were smiles and some applause for me from the nearest legionaries, but most were watching the reigning champion who, with both arms raised, waved at the crowd to huge applause for he too had won his first bout.

There were four pairs left and I now faced a big man with a black beard and curly hair and a scowling expression of distain for me, his young opponent.

He attacked without delay. He swung his gladius from left to right and right to left. He hammered my shield until I dropped it from a nerveless arm. We faced each other again. I was sweating. I looked him in the eyes. They were staring and wide.

The big man rushed forward his weapon swinging. I could ill afford to be still. I parried and knelt. I reached low to his left knee, sword slicing from left to right. Then I rolled away and stood.

Fortuna! I had cut my opponent's left knee. It was a lucky strike but it drew blood from a deep gash at the front of the knee.

The big legionary looked down at his knee and stood for long seconds regarding his wound. He promptly lost his temper; his face turned puce. He leapt forward with his sword raised. He was swearing at the top of his voice. I had to back away fast. The man followed me. I ran in circles. It became a farce. Seeing me chased by that huge sword-wielding fury, half the spectators roared with laughter. One of the Centurions, who acted as marshals, was finally able to interpose himself.

I had one further bout and found myself facing the reigning champion, Meridius. This man was unlike the others. He seemed relaxed and confident and he stood before me in an almost arrogant pose, as if the result was a foregone conclusion. There was a look of calmness in his hazel eyes and he had an open expression, deep lines at the corner of his mouth betraying a keen sense of humour. His cleft chin and sharply sculpted nose gave him a craggy strong face. It was the face of a leader of men.

I felt my heart thumping but not from exertion, I felt tense, excited, but not hopeless. I thought I could win, for I felt I had won all three bouts so far by luck. I knew I had a chance even against a real champion if I was lucky again.

I touched the amulet at my neck. It had brought me luck so far, why not once more? Had I asked any man in the legion, I might have realised that no one else thought I could win.

Meridius stepped forward fast. I confess I was taken by complete surprise. He made one simple thrust with his blade. Straight at my face. I was expecting the reigning champion to have speed, but the deftness and purity of the movement showed a focus I had never imagined possible. I only just managed to avoid the thrusting gladius by raising my shield. I stepped back. On came the champion. His sword thrusting, parrying, swinging in a blur. I needed dizzyingly deft footwork to avoid it. I had to work hard at defending myself. I found I was backing away all the time. My opponent moved forward quickly in small half steps.

Neither of us raised our swords too high. Nor did we lower our shields enough either, to allow the expected lucky cut to occur. After fifteen minutes, some of the crowd made catcalls.

It was rare for such matches to last this long, but neither Meridius nor I gave way. The drizzle became rain. It became more difficult for me to maintain rapid footwork as the mud stuck heavily to man and sandal. I wiped my brow with my sword hand.

We were breathing hard when Meridius slipped and my heart leapt for I saw my chance. I thrust forwards in a straight line. I aimed at the momentarily flailing champion. To my utter surprise, the man was still able to parry. His riposte caught me on the wrist. It was deft, a small, clean wound and a definite cut. I realised with chagrin that I had lost. In one short moment, the dream had gone.

Meridius smiled. He approached me, embraced me and taking my right hand, he raised it above shoulder height to show his admiration for his young opponent. A little blood trickled down both my arm and his hand as he did so.

'You should never fall for the pretended stumble. It's an old trick.'

As it dawned upon me that I had been fooled, I found I had no anger or irritation, only admiration for my vanquisher.

To my surprise and barely hidden delight, the crowd of soldiers raised a cheer and as I felt my cheeks flush, my Centurion led me from the field.

Chapter VII

"A friend is long sought, hardly found, and with difficulty kept." - St. Jerome.

'You did very well there lad' Asinnius said as we walked back to the camp. It was still raining and the soft mud splashed on my grieves as we walked. He slapped me on the back.

'Is that all you can say? I almost won!' I said feeling somewhat carried away with my first success.

'Second isn't first. There's only one winner and that was Meridius. You did well though; I never thought you would get past the second round. Maybe Fortuna smiled on you and you were lucky!' Asinnius smiled, pleased with his teasing, 'You will get a prize, you know.'

'A prize? What kind of prize?'

'You get to come with us to Pontus.'

'Pontus?'

'We've been ordered to Pontus to serve under Lucullus. He's going to annihilate that Mithradates fellow. That Pontic King been a thorn in our flesh for years and the Senate are sending us with another legion as reinforcements, to root him out. He's been the Pontic King for years and his daughter is married to the Armenian King. We've defeated him before but he always gets away and hides, then comes back with another army. "Unkillable" they call him. "The Great King" is another title.'

'I thought you said I got a prize.'

'That is the prize! You get to go on a trip to foreign places. You don't even have to plan where your food is coming from. Uncle Asinnius will see to that!'

'Very bloody funny! I went through all that, so you could win money betting and all I get is nothing.'

'Yes, yes, poor Aulus. Now run along back to camp and get cleaned up. You have to be back here when the Champion gets his prize. I'm told it's a silver statue of a man wielding his sword. If they give you a statue it'll be one of a man lying on his back, with blood running down his arm!'

I made my way back through the mud to the field for the prize giving ceremony.

I was used to the teasing and barracking I received in the army. I was one of the youngest in my century and although the other soldiers teased me, they were fond of me. That was the main reason why, when it came to battle as it had in Crete, I had difficulty getting anywhere near the fighting. My comrades tried to keep me safe in the back of the century, to my intense frustration.

My closest friend in the army however was Junius, a country boy from Aretium. Junius had grown up on a farm near Aretium and we had met when I was on manoeuvres in the north of Etruria. We first became acquainted outside a bakery in the main street. It was crowded with soldiers who were on leave in the town, much to the disgust of the locals. Junius was delivering a sack of flour and as he jumped from the cart had landed on my foot.

'Jupiter's Balls! My foot!' I said hopping.

'Sorry, it was an accident.'

'An accident my foot!'

'Yes,' the tall fair country boy said, smiling.

We looked at each other and I smiled then laughed.

'Really, I'm sorry,' he said.

'I'll accept your apology if you buy me a cup of wine.'

'Let me just deliver this flour and I'll be pleased to buy a round. My name is Junius Sinna.'

'Aulus Veridius Scapula, at your service,' I said and saluted with pride.

I helped him carry the sack into the bakery and we walked a few yards down the road to a tavern.

'This one will do. The wine here is pretty good.'

We sat outside in the sunshine and began swapping stories. He was a farm worker and although one could not describe him as streetwise, he knew all the local politics and gossip.

'So you've lived in Rome all your life?'

'Yes.'

'Wish I had,' Junius said, 'this place has no future for a man, it's dull as the mud it's built on. All I ever do is use a pitchfork and sweep out the stables with a broom. Wish I could train to use a sword like you.'

'It's not so hard. The worst bit is the drill. We have to march in lots of formations and learn to move as one man on command. Weapons drill is just as tiring, but it's going to make me a warrior for Rome. Here,' I said, passing him my gladius.

'It's beautiful,' he said. He swung it from side to side.

'Not like that,' I said, 'It's meant for stabbing. It's too short to use in that way. We form up with shields together and use the short sword to stab over the shields and between them. In a press of battle when the enemy is crushed up against our shields, the barbarians have no chance to swing their swords. Well I don't know from experience yet, but my centurion, Asinnius told me about it.'

'Will they teach me to use a gladius if I join up?'

'Of course, you wouldn't be much use wielding a broom. Mind you, we're learning to dig ditches and put up palisades too. We're the greatest engineers in the world!'

'I don't know how I'll stand being a farmer. It's the most boring work in the world.'

'Why don't you join up? The pay is good and the work is tiring but worth it. More wine?'

'Thanks. Maybe I should join up. Even my father was a legionary once. He fought in the army of Marius. I only know country life though. I don't know anything about fighting and I've never been to Rome either.'

We swapped stories of our daily life. I told him of life in the Subura. I told him how I had stolen and got caught in the greatest city in the world. Junius talked of life on the farm and the local country affairs, politics and gossip, which held me spellbound. We had nothing in common; but we shared our sense of humour and this made the whole afternoon a pleasure for us both. It was an island of time, which allowed us to escape the present.

We laughed most of that afternoon, sitting outside in the torpid sunshine at the tavern. As a basis for friendship, it was not very meaningful but it was the most fun either of us had experienced for weeks. Most of the soldiers in my century were much older than I was and to meet and chat with someone my own age was a pleasure. I secretly hoped Junius would join.

The afternoon flew past. When we parted, I was sure he would take the plunge. He did join up and I was always amazed that he failed to blame me for the hardships we endured. At times, he seemed almost grateful. To my mind, it showed the strongest facet of his character; he was loyal.

Those first months of training, as raw recruits in the Ninth Legion were most remarkable because of the relief we felt when they were over. Junius and I had drilled repeatedly for weeks; triple lines, double lines, wheel to the right, wheel to the left, open order, close order. It had driven us both to distraction, but as the army toughened us up, our friendship grew. It had helped us get through the hardships and there had been good times too.

I often remembered with embarrassment, a girl we had shared in Crete. Now that was a woman! Junius had needed to push me into her arms before anything happened, but we had shared her services in our drunken haze, going halves on her fee. It forged a further bond between us.

When I walked back from the camp, I could hear the assembled voices of the men of my legion. A huge sound, seven thousand men talking, laughing, shouting and scuffling as bets were collected or reneged upon. I felt good. I felt as if I was becoming someone at last. Men would know my name and I was proud. I had to push my way through the inebriate mass of men to get to the centre where the Legate, Quintus Tullius Cicero was ready to present the prize to the winner of the contest.

Cicero was a man of medium height, with short curly black hair and a frowning serious face that seldom cracked into a smile. His men held him in high respect for he was a man made to lead men. He had fought in North Africa, Crete and Spain and had been awarded almost every honour that the army could offer. His best qualification in our eyes was that he fought in the front line when needed. He was a swordsman, an equestrian and above all a fair leader.

Cicero stood on a small but sturdy podium, erected in haste for the contest. Typical of Roman soldiering it was substantial and were it not on the Campus Martius it could have stood for fifty years. He looked out at the sea of faces and for once, he smiled.

'Hispania! We have seen a wonderful display of swordsmanship to-day. We stand now beneath the eagle and the bull standard of our legion to award the prize of championship to my friend and colleague. He has won it in blood, but happily not his own!'

There was scattered laughter, even though it was a barely humorous remark. Cicero turned to his orderly who handed him a silver statue. He held the trophy high above his head and shouted so that the men could hear him above the roar of the legionary's voices.

'Meridio allectus est,' Chosen Man, was what he called Meridius. It was a title labelling him the sole victorious champion of the entire legion. As I found myself cheering with the rest, I began to realise how close I had come to receiving that title myself. The thought was a humbling one. Perhaps next time or the time after that. I still had sixteen years to serve so there was plenty of time.

'Now for the second prize,' Cicero said with a slight involuntary shudder as rainwater ran down the back of his neck.

I remained standing quite still for long moments before I realised that the Legate meant me. Eager hands pushed me forwards and I stumbled slightly as I approached the podium. Meridius, descending the stairs smiled and tapped me on the shoulder as he passed by on the steps...

'Well done youngster, you were very quick, there's real promise in that right hand,' he said.

I climbed the steps and there was loud applause from the legion. Cicero turned to face me and presented me with a gladius. It was a beautiful weapon; silver wire encircled the ox-bone handle. The blade had letters carved and tempered in an intricate design. 'LEGIO IX HISPANIA'.

The memory of the last time I had seen that inscription pricked my conscience. It was an aberrant thought, but I wished I could show it to the old prefect, for I now understood what being in the legion was all about. It was for Rome but also for my own pride, and my honour.

I raised the gladius over my head briefly and there was more applause from my fellow legionaries. My heart soared at that moment. It was the crowning moment of my life so far and I had achieved it myself. It gave me a sudden realisation that this was what I wanted. To be seen by all as a champion and a swordsman. That moment remains within me still, and I look back on it with real pride.

I bowed to the Legate and grinning, turned to go to the steps.

'Not so fast young man,' Cicero said, 'How old are you?'

'Nearly nineteen, sir,' I lied. I was not used to speaking to any officers, let alone the Legate of the entire legion and my nervousness showed.

'For your age, you have a truly remarkable skill with the sword. I will ask Meridius to help you gain some further skill for I think that one day you will be in his sandals. He is a man of great honour and generosity and I am sure he will be happy to train you.'

'I am honoured sir,' I said, not knowing what else to say. I bowed again and descended the podium steps to much backslapping and applause.

'Men,' shouted Cicero, 'There is just one more announcement. You sail in a week for Pontus. You are to join Lucullus and crush the Pontic King, Mithradates. You will bring fire and sword to Pontus. Ready yourselves!'

His men roared their anticipation and the assembly broke up.

Junius approached me and slapped me on the back.

'Aulus, you really did that well, you nearly won.'

'No there was no chance, Meridius is incredible.'

'Let's discuss it in the tavern. I have just the place in mind. A little place off the Forum Boarium, where the serving girl has big prospects,' he indicated the front of his chest, 'she's been encouraging me all week. Maybe she has a friend for you. She is too pretty to share.'

I blushed as we walked across the crowded Campus Martius, I still remembered the girl in Crete with embarrassment.

We walked to the tavern and I began to wonder about Meridius. Would he become my tutor? Would he be, like Gennadius, someone to let me down? It prodded me with a feeling of insecurity. I did not want to invest the emotion of being a pupil, dependant but learning, only to feel threatened and let down once more.

I had guilt too and grief for I realised that Gennadius had been kind. He had been so necessary to me and had given me so much that discarding him, because of his sexual needs, pricked me with guilt as well as the anger that had led me to survive on the streets of the Subura.

BOOK II: PONTUS

Chapter I

"In a change of masters the poor change nothing except their master's name." - Phaedrus

We landed at the main port of Pergamum. The docks were a hive of activity as the men came ashore in the bright, baking, burning sun. There were two legions, the Ninth and the Fourth. The port was a day's hard march from Pergamum and to my great disappointment, we were not allowed to visit the city. When Alexander conquered the whole area, he had built the palaces and temples on the top of a mountain one thousand feet above the lowlands below. It was reckoned a great site of ancient Greek buildings and I was to miss it all.

I was sweating in the almost palpable humidity, hating the feeling of the damp felt lining of my helmet, as it stuck to the back of my neck. The sweaty, leathery smell of the men surrounding me, masked the fishy odour of the docks as I stepped ashore and formed up with my century.

I touched my father's amulet for luck. My superstitious nature made me cautious as well as curious about how this chapter of my life would turn out. I still felt a cold anger over all that had happened to me but I managed to keep it buried deep and all that showed now was a hint of a smile on the lips of my sunburned and usually serious face.

It was a smile of relief but there was gratitude too. Gratitude to have survived the sea voyage, the seasickness, dysentery and the diet of fish and barley. I thought to myself that if ever I had to hang from the stern of a boat again to open my bowels, I would go mad. It was for me, one of the worst parts of sea journeys. One minute you were answering the call of nature, the next minute grasping frantically at the rope ladder on which you are perched. Had I been able to read the future I might have felt differently about that sea voyage.

I stood in line with the other legionaries, kit on my shoulder, leather-wrapped shield in my left hand and looked inland hoping for a glimpse of Pergamum herself, the legendary Attalid city. There was however, a heat haze, which would have obscured the city from my view even if the distance had been less.

I had heard much about the ancient city from Gennadius and I recalled that it was famous for its library, the second largest in the world, as well as the stature of its medical men. Indeed, there was a famous temple to Asclepius in the city, where it was rumoured that any illness could be relieved or cured by bathing in the sacred waters of a spring inside. I did feel I was missing out by not visiting the ancient city, but realised I was not there to stop and stare as so many others who came from Rome.

Small boats transported most of the baggage and provisions as far up the River Caicus as possible and the men and cavalry were to follow on foot along a winding cart track that crawled in dusty meanderings eastwards. On the morning of the second day, I looked up at the city, which stood on a plateau high above to my right. I could easily make out the sloping tiers of seats in the amphitheatre, which could hold fifteen thousand people. It was a theatre in the Greek style, built into the mountainside. Semicircular, it was a phenomenal feat of engineering. The acoustics were such that when it was built, by Alexander the Great, someone sitting on the highest and furthest row could hear an actor's voice as clearly as if he was next to him. Gennadius had always said that the important feature was not the acoustics, but the masks the actor wore which somehow amplified the voice. The outline of the Great Temple of Zeus, built when Pergamum was part of the Attalid Empire a hundred years before, reached up to the sky like supplicant hands on the brow of the mountain. Its columns shone white, as the sun reflected from their marble surface.

'You know, Junius,' I said as we marched, 'It's a funny thing, but we inherited this place from its original owners.'

'How's that?' Junius said.

'Well the last King, Attalus the second, had no son to pass the empire on to, so to avoid the entire place being squabbled over by Greeks and Egyptians, he bequeathed all his treasure to Rome. The Senate however, decided that he had left the kingdom to them and we've occupied it ever since.'

'How do you know all these things? You seem to be a bloody guide not a soldier. Are you sure you aren't really an officer in disguise?'

'Very funny. No, I had a Greek teacher for a few years when I was young and he was full of historical details about the east. He said the east was the most civilised and educated place in the world, and that Pergamum was its intellectual capital.'

'You know, Aulus, sometimes I can't understand what you're talking about. All I know is that we are here to fight a load of half-Greek, half-Scythian, half-Parthian heathens and if we keep talking and walk as slowly as this we'll miss the bloody war!'

'Too many halves! I doubt we will get that much fighting. Lucullus has already won by the looks of it. He overran a huge Pontic army at Cabira. Apparently, the Pontic cavalry attacked our baggage train but our cavalry ambushed them and wiped them out. That only left the Pontic infantry and our men cut through them like a knife as they routed. I wish I had been there. If the legionaries hadn't stopped to loot the bodies and the camp, they would have caught the Pontic King. I suppose if that happened though, we wouldn't be needed and we could all go home. As it was, their King escaped and that's why Lucullus wants more troops so he can keep this place quiet while he goes after Mithradates in Armenia.'

'Who told you that?'

'I was chatting to one of the sailors at the dock, he said he's had to carry dispatches and the messengers knew all about it. I wish we could visit the city though.'

'You speak Greek?'

'Of course, don't you?'

'Not much use talking to cattle in Greek you know. Sounds like we'll be marching all the way to Armenia, before we get a decent fight, from what you say.'

'Don't worry farm boy, we'll get plenty to do!' I said.

It took four weeks for the army to reach Ancyra in the centre of Phrygia. It was a hot, dusty, thirsty route through mixed countryside of farmland, barren hills and flat plains. Sunburn, blisters and dysentery became a part of our everyday life, but few of us became seriously ill. We were well equipped and carried plenty of provisions. As we marched, we built a fortified camp at each stop, for although there was no fighting to be done here, we routinely dug trenches and built palisades each night around our encampments. Every one of us knew how to dig a trench properly and we all carried a spade and a stake to make the palisade with when we reached the campsite.

We turned northeast after that and the terrain became rockier as they climbed up for almost two weeks. Eventually we were able to look down at a vast plain that reached out to the sea halfway between Sinope, the capital of Pontus and the Bosporus at Byzantium. We made for Herakleia, a city of Bythinia on the coast, in a northeasterly direction.

After eight weeks more of hard marching next to the sea, we came to Sinope and joined the five legions that Lucullus had at his command. The city was under siege and the arrival of the two new legions was welcomed by the veteran legions of Lucullus. Food had been running short on both sides and it was becoming more and more difficult to supply the troops, partly because of the long supply lines

'Don't you think about anything apart from eating?' Junius said.

'Yes I do, but it feels like a priority to my stomach at the moment. I hear the city is ready to surrender anytime, but even if they do there won't be any food inside, will there?'

'No, maybe not. If there was, they wouldn't surrender would they?'

We looked at each other and laughed. I felt that if I did not laugh I might cry. The hardships of the long march had taken its toll and all I wanted at that moment was food and plenty of it. The siege was going well by Roman standards, despite the difficulties engendered by shortages.

Gennadius had taught me about Pontus. The last five kings had the name Mithradates and for almost four generations they had been, to a man, a thorn in Rome's side. All very young Romans were brought up with the belief that if they misbehaved, Mithradates would come for them, yet I remained fascinated by the capital city that was so different from Rome. It was a bridging place between the Armenians to the east and the Scythians around the Black Sea to the north. The mixture of cultures had produced a thriving economy, the Pontic people took pride in their trading and horsemanship, for Pontus had some of the best heavy cavalry in the Roman world, excepting the cataphractii of Parthia and Armenia. Like everywhere in the known world the Greeks had got here first and many of the traders were Greek or spoke that language.

'Have you heard the news from Spain?' asked Junius.

'No, what's happened?'

'Gnaeus Pompey has ended the Sertorian war and made a clean sweep across Spain. He must be a pretty good soldier that one.'

'Yes, but I don't think much of his political skills and I'd be surprised if he gets very far. Sulla liked him though, which is hardly a recommendation.'

'Sulla was a great Roman,' Junius said.

'Don't talk to me about Sulla,' I said, 'the man may have had a good sense of humour but it was on account of him that my parents were killed.'

'Oh?' Junius said, for I had never spoken openly of the matter before.

'Yes, he wanted land that my father had inherited and he worked on my uncle to get it. I don't have any evidence but I'm pretty sure my parents died protecting the whereabouts of the deeds to that land,' I said, playing with the Amulet around my neck.

Fiddling with the thing had become a constant habit. The silver wire, polished by my calloused fingers, glinted in the sun; I knew every crack, every crevice, the only part of my father to survive. Yet I had never looked at it directly, since it hung around my neck.

'Pity Sulla's dead, there is no one for you to take revenge on I suppose.'

'Oh there is. My uncle Marcus must have had something to do with it and when I leave the army I intend to find out what happened.'

'You think your uncle killed your parents?'

'I don't know. I try not to think about it, I can't get on with life if I ponder on it too much. It's like a festering sore.'

'Oh for the love of Mercury, why are we having such a morbid conversation? We are young and there is a city full of beautiful women and wine!'

As Junius pointed to the walls of Sinope, the gates opened ponderously, with loud creaking sounds.

'There you are, all I had to do was point and the walls are ours! Junius the wall-breaker they call me!' Junius shaded his eyes and pointed as a column of men emerged from the gateway.

'Looks like another delegation, maybe the siege is ending,' he said.

'Well I can tell you, there will be no plunder this time. The General has passed a message through the Centurions that if you're caught plundering you'll be crucified. He wants to build good relations according to Meridius' I said.

'Meridius? When did you see him?'

'That was the last time he gave me a lesson. He can wield a sword that one. For an officer he's good company and what a fighter! It's almost as if he was one of us you know.'

'He can't be; he's an officer. They all have a rich background and money up their asses.'

'Not this one, he really does want me to do well with the sword practise. I know it.'

'Maybe so. Let's go over to the Praetorium and see what's happening. Maybe the city is going to give up.'

Junius and I walked up the Via Praetoria to hear the news. The layout of our camps was always the same, so we could find our way around even in a huge encampment. The Via Praetoria was the main roadway that led to the central area in front of the command tents.

Lucullus had been negotiating with the city council for terms of surrender. To my disappointment, the terms were accepted. It meant there would be no storming of the city walls. There would be no heroics to display and no military decorations to hand out. I felt there was little point in joining the legions if I could not gain some military honours. If all they did was talk and win, where did the heroes come from?

For I wanted to be a hero. My great-grandfather, who had become consul, had been a hero, according to my father. A great man, a good man. I burned with the desire to become like him. To pass on the name of Veridius Scapula with pride meant much to me, although I had no idea how to carry all this through.

I hoped for glory and honour in the Ninth, but where would I get the opportunity? I was a low ranking soldier in a huge legion of professional soldiers and who was I anyway? A thief? A junior man-of-the-line legionary, nothing else. My sword work had progressed with tutoring from Meridius, but what did that mean? Even if, in years to come, I were to become the legionary champion of the Ninth Legion where would that get me? It certainly did not mean promotion. To become a Centurion even, would take me years. There were times when I despaired of reaching my goal.

There was no sack of Sinope. Lucullus wanted to win hearts and minds in Pontus because he intended to use the port of Sinope as his main supply line. It meant sea battles against the corsairs, but ships could be built, marines could be trained, and warfare could be taken even as far as Chersoneses across the Black Sea if necessary.

And me? I walked into that city with my comrades, staring at the starving people and wondering how I might achieve my aim. Although the populace lined the streets, there was no welcome for us Romans soldiers. Instead, there was a fear and caution expressed in the closure of shops and taverns and markets. Not that there was much to sell, for three months of siege had stripped the corn stores bare and the shelves in all the shops and the markets stalls were empty.

Like most of the Ninth Legion, I was billeted in the north of the town near the harbour. Junius had scouted around but found nothing to interest him nearby. The city was similar in many respects to Rome. There were tenements and squares and cobbled streets but that was where the similarity ended. All the buildings were of stone, unlike Rome where many buildings were constructed of wood. It lent an air of permanence to the place a sense of antiquity, as if it had been standing there forever.

'The women are all hidden away, there seems to be no food and there isn't even a decent tavern open,' Junius proclaimed disconsolately on the day after the fall of the city.

'No, but at least we're comfortable here,' I replied, indicating the tenement accommodation in which we had found ourselves billeted.

'I would feel more comfortable if the owner of the place didn't keep asking me for money. He seems to want sympathy.'

'I can see how he feels. We've walked into his city and deposited ourselves in his tenement and he gets nothing for it.'

'Maybe he can get us some women?' he said.

'You should try. It might take your mind off the plunder Lucullus stopped us from getting'

'Come on Aulus, cheer up! I'll try to see if he can be persuaded or bribed to provide some entertainment.'

Junius wandered out of the building, but I had my doubts about my friend's venture. I was feeling more despondent than at any other time since my forced nascence in the legion. All I had was the legion. There was nothing in Rome for me but this place of stone buildings, starvation and gloom could never be construed as a good substitute for my home.

Rome was not just a city; it was a concept, an ideal for which any of us would give up our lives. It was honour and right and the legion was my family now. Not a loving family, no softness, no tenderness but family all the same. The bonds that held us to each other were different to kinship, we were not brothers, we were brothers-in-arms, but perhaps that was a bond in itself. And Rome? Rome was our mother and father and we all longed for her but it was no substitute really, for what I grieved for.

I should have been more patient, for it turned out that there was certainly action enough for me in Sinope, but no one knows what the Gods plan and the future runs before us in unknown paths.

Chapter II

"Success consecrates the most offensive crimes." - Lucius Annaeus Seneca

'By Zeus! How many times do I have to tell you, the riposte is to the left? You start with a left stroke and then a right and then when they parry, you strike left. What is the matter with you? You mastered that one before you left Italia! If you carry on like this I will end up concluding you're a drone like the rest of them!'

'Sorry sir, er... I mean Gaius, I just have problems concentrating. I seem to be learning how to fight all the time but there really isn't anyone to fight is there?'

We were standing outside the walls of the city, their sheer stone surface rising far above us as we circled each other in our practise. Dust rose in little clouds from the dry cracked turf beneath our sandaled feet. Meridius paused for a moment and looked at me. He looked puzzled as if wondering what was going on in my mind. He had spent a week trying to train me in more and more complicated swordplay on a daily basis. Both of us were bored stiff. We had both come to serve Rome and our legion, but all that had happened was the surrender of the city and a quiet rest without any action.

'No, I understand what you mean. I have a similar feeling myself. Tell me Aulus, you seem like a more educated man than most of the others. Were you educated in Rome?'

'I had a Greek teacher for a while before my parents died and then I was on my own.'

'How did you join the legion?'

'I was encouraged into it by Quintus Cerialis a retired Primum Pila.'

'Really? Old Quintus? He's very fondly remembered by this legion. He took on twenty men on a bridge to save another Centurion and killed them all. He lost an eye and was so badly wounded that they despaired of his life. He recovered in the end, but he ended up retired. He is still revered as one of the legion's greatest heroes. If he is your patron and helped you get into the legion, you are very lucky.'

'I wouldn't exactly say he is my patron but I certainly owe my presence here to him.'

I smiled inwardly. If anyone here knew how I had actually come to be in the legion, I would have died of shame.

An Orderly interrupted the sword practise. He informed Meridius that he was summoned to the command headquarters and my lesson ended.

As I walked back to my lodgings I almost bumped heads with my landlord as we both rounded a corner in opposite directions. I looked down at his plump smooth face, jostled by the passing pedestrians on the crowded cobbles. Beads of sweat rolled down his forehead and top lip, his breathing heavy as his fat chest heaved up and down. His generous rough, grey tunic, dampened in the heat, hung tent-like from his rounded frame. He smelled of garlic.

'Polymecles! How nice to see you. What time will we be dining? I must say I'm hungry already.'

'Master Aulus. I am most disappointed to tell you that dining will not be the pleasure that it once was in my humble home.'

The little half-Greek landlord appeared distressed by something and I thought I ought to show some sympathy even if I felt little.

'What terrible thing has happened? I can see from your face that things are not as they should be. What's the matter?'

'Sir, it is simply that we have no oil. There was a large shipment arriving this morning but it has not arrived and the prices are now beyond my modest purse. If you were to pay some rent, then I might be able to purchase some oil and instruct the cook to make a truly splendid meal for the great Roman soldiers who have so kindly settled in my humble home. Your protection is always so welcome.'

His speech came out at a speed that would have shamed a racehorse and a with a thick Pontic accent. I looked at the man with a wry smile, for I suspected this was just another call for rent and sympathy.

'My dear Polymecles, you know that we soldiers are humble and poor. How can we pay you if the army keeps us on short rations and pays us so seldom? We will of course give you a generous settlement when we leave but in the meantime, you must trust us. We are Romans, our word is good.'

'There is still no oil for cooking. Word has it that the corsairs have taken the whole shipment.'

'The corsairs?'

'Yes sir, there has been a group of them sailing almost unchallenged up and down the coast, raiding everywhere.'

'Have they always been so troublesome?'

'No Sir Aulus, they were on the side of the Great King before the war, but now he has been defeated, they support his illustrious memory by attacking Roman ships,'

'Pity we can't locate them then isn't it?'

'Many people know where they can be found. I think they hide in the coastal inlets to the west and come out to attack any ships coming to Sinope.'

'Maybe so, but there is no way to find out where, is there?'

'There are many of them in the town even as we speak. I saw a well known corsair in a tavern only a short distance from here.'

'When?'

'Only a short time ago,'

'Can you take me there?'

'Lord Aulus, there would be a risk to my person. I could never take such risks without some form of inducement.' He held out his hand palm up in the expectation of remuneration.

'If I were to cut out your tongue, that would certainly realise a risk to your person, would it not?' I said.

'But sir, I could not tell you about such important events if you did that!'

Polymecles inclined his head to one side.

'Maybe I should take that risk,' I said fingering the hilt of my dagger.

'Please Sir Aulus, no violence. I am only an impoverished landlord! I will help you for you are the great conquerors of the Pontic Empire.'

'We will get my friend Junius and you will lead us to where you think this corsair might be.'

'It will be as you wish O Powerful One!'

'You really annoy me you know.'

Polymecles grinned.

When we got to the tenement, Junius was busy. He was so busy in fact that he had to be called repeatedly. His head appeared through the window. He leaned out bare chested. He was sweating.

'Can't a chap get a bit of rest around here?'

'I need you!'

'That's just was Aripele was saying just now,' smiled Junius smugly.

'Ari what?'

'My companion. I don't take it kindly that you disturbed us.'

'Come on farm boy, there's a bit of adventure in the offing!'

'Down in a minute. It had better be good.'

The minute took half an hour and I was becoming more irritated by the second when Junius arrived, with a smile as broad as the Tiber across his lips.

'We can get some information if we follow our noble landlord.'

'What do you mean?'

'The corsairs have come to town and they're the ones ambushing the convoys. That's why there are no supplies coming into the city.'

'So what, it's not our problem.'

'No, but if we get some information on them maybe we have a chance of recognition and it gets us that much closer to promotion. I'm heading for Centurion even if you aren't.'

'You're as mad as the augurs at Saturnalia! Even if you captured a corsair there is no reason to suppose that he can tell you where his mates might be.'

'He won't have to tell us, but he will tell the Legate. They have ways to make a man talk you know.'

With a hint of ill grace, Junius re-entered the building and came out buckling his sword belt. We followed Polymecles through the streets to a dockland quarter at the north end of the city.

'It was here sir, where I saw him enter.'

'Where are you going?'

'Please Noble One, if I am seen leading you here they will send men to kill me. I cannot be here.'

'Nonsense. You stay and if you are wrong we will kill you!'

I grinned as I spoke. I think my age and inexperience made me see the entire escapade as a bit of fun. I did not foresee the seriousness of what the situation might become. Polymecles began to shake and his knees were trembling, but I was resolute, determined to have him show us the corsair.

The three of us entered the tavern and looked around.

'Drink sir?' enquired the proprietor.

'Three cups of wine please and not the sharp stuff from Herakleia. Something drinkable please,' Junius said.

'All my wine is drinkable kind sir. I will fetch the best the house has to offer and you can judge for yourself,' he grinned gently as he spoke and chewed on some nasty local leaf-based concoction, which seemed popular with the locals. It was a preparation, which made them relax and to my mind made them idle. We looked around casually.

We sat at a table in the far left corner of the stuffy hot tavern. There were only a few customers because of the time of day. Most stayed away during the noonday heat and rested at home rather like in Rome. Nothing happened until early evening in Sinope when the heat began to die down. A dog barked outside but otherwise the only sound was a low murmur of a few voices and laughter from one table in the opposite corner. A fly buzzed next to Junius' ear and he swatted at it. I surveyed the scene.

'Which one is your famous corsair?'

'Please Exalted Leader of Men! Keep your voice down. These are very dangerous killers. They would eliminate us in a second like snuffing out a candle, if they knew we were here to spy upon them.'

'We legionaries have no need to fear such people. We can look after ourselves,' Junius said.

The barman brought the wine in a wooden jug and placed three wooden cups before his guests. We paid in sestertii, which the barman dared not refuse and we continued to look at the surrounding occupied tables.

'Well?' I said.

'I think it is that man with the beard at the far table, the one with the laughing men.'

'You think? You said that you knew who he was.'

'Yes lord, but my recollection for faces is not as good as it was when I was as young as you are, Exalted One.'

'Are you teasing me?' I said.

'Sir Aulus, nothing would be further from my mind. I would never do such a thing to the noble soldiers of Rome!'

'Definitely him then.'

'Yes I think so, perhaps.'

Junius stood up and as casually as seemed appropriate, strolled to the entrance of the tavern where he leaned against the doorpost trying to look casual. I stood up and approached the table. As I approached, all three men looked up. What I saw then was a look of total self-assuredness in their eyes. These were men who believed in themselves, their own prowess and strength, they exuded confidence.

I was disconcerted and drew my sword. I vaguely realised that this was not what I had imagined would happen. I wondered if I had been hasty.

My action was enough to make the three men stand and put hands to the hilts of their own weapons. They carried curved swords of a type that I had never seen before. Their weapons were much longer than a gladius and for the first time since I entered the tavern, I began to have real doubts. My perturbation did not show on my face but merely served to make me ready, in anticipation of what each of my potential opponents might do. This was what Meridius had trained me to. Anticipation is everything.

'You are a Roman,' the bearded man said in accented Greek. It sounded like an accusation rather than a plain statement and he scowled as he spoke.

'Yes and you are a corsair I am informed.'

'I am an honest sailor. You are a usurper and unwanted in this city.'

As he spoke, his two companions fanned out to either side and all three drew their weapons. Junius approached from the doorway as Polymecles scuttled through the door.

I wanted the bearded man alive but had no idea how to take him. I felt sure I could keep him at bay and maybe kill him but no one had ever told me how to disarm an opponent. It was the difference between theory and practise, I thought to myself. I knew it would reveal whether I had skill and talent or whether it was all my personal pipedream.

My heart thumped beneath my ribs. My mouth felt arid. My hands were a little moist with sweat, whether from anxiety or the heat in the small room, I could not tell. It held my attention for a fraction of a second only.

The man on my right was the first to move. He lunged at Junius with his weapon. Junius was a big man. A big target, but fast. A parry, and a step forward, a swift thrust and that part of the fight was embers only. Both my opponents used the distraction to make their play. Both raised swords at the instant that Junius engaged. The table between us flew towards me with a clatter. I backed up and parried to my left then my right waiting for an opening.

Junius withdrew his blade from the chest of his opponent. He bellowed a challenge and went for the bearded man. The second corsair stabbed at my stomach. Parry, riposte to the right. Sideswipe to the bearded man. Return to the left, point piercing flesh. Second man down. Blood, red blood, spurting from his throat. He clutched at the wound with denervating fingers and sank to the floor.

The bearded man was frantically trying to attack Junius but the death throes of his former companion who was twitching all over, distracted him. He tried to back away but I side stepped behind. I picked up one of the stools that had scattered when the table upturned. As my quarry raised his blade against Junius' sword, I thumped down hard with the stool and the bearded man crumpled in a heap. Junius looked at me. The whole fight had taken only moments. I felt sick.

'I would have killed him if you hadn't interrupted,' he objected.

'No good to us dead, is he?'

'No, that's true. Maybe I got carried away.'

I was shaking, I still felt nauseated. I had not killed a man before, except that one time in Crete and that was in a battle line. It seemed so different. I looked at Junius but saw no remorse there, only a smile of triumph and a few beads of sweat on my friend's upper lip. I somehow forced myself to cap my feelings and looked at the dead man. Had it not been for the blood he could have been mistaken for a living man, and not this lifeless heap of meat. So like life, yet so unlike. I tried with an effort to snap out of my thoughts quickly, for there was much to do.

We searched the two dead men and both had heavy purses with gold coins. We did not stop to count the coins and we found nothing else of use or value. The bearded man was groaning and I held my sword blade close to the man's chest while Junius sought rope to bind him. The barman was notable for his absence. We tied the bearded man's hands and supporting him by the arms; we dragged and walked him back to the century command point near the temple of Athena in the centre of town. The hungry and debilitated people of Sinope barely spared us a glance as we made our way across town.

Centurion Asinnius was crossing the square in front of the temple as we approached.

'What have you got there? Beating up the locals. It's a good way to get yourselves executed around here you know.'

'He's not a local, he's a corsair. One of the ones who've been raiding up and down the coast. We thought he might reveal where his comrades are hiding.'

'You thought did you? You two aren't supposed to think, only follow orders, that's how an army works. Nobody thinks, they just obey and then you get the job done. Here, you can leave him with me'

'Then Legate won't know it was us who risked our lives to bring him here,' objected Junius.

'Believe me sonny, the Legate isn't very happy at being here on guard duty, and I doubt whether he would look on two of his soldiers disturbing him very favourably either.'

'But we don't want to disturb him, just tell him we caught this man.'

'If you think you can burst in on a Legate of the Army of the Republic of Rome, Sonny, then why don't you try?' Asinnius swept his arm behind him gesturing the temple, 'I wish you both the best of Roman luck.'

Neither of us moved. We glanced at each other and then at the sagging bearded man between us but neither of us summoned the courage to disturb the Legate to make our report.

'All right you win,' I said, 'will you tell the Legate who it was that captured the pirate?'

'Yes I will, I do not need to steal other men's glory. Now get back to your billets and await further instructions. We've got a marching drill first thing in the morning, and I expect you two to be there.'

Asinnius led the stumbling corsair away and as we turned I heard Junius slowly say in a very quiet voice, 'Bastard.'

I looked at my friend. Junius was smiling but I knew that inside, we both felt the same. We had risked our lives for nothing and two men lay dead. What price death? It could have been either of us lying on that tavern floor, simple pieces of flesh now, no thoughts, no ambitions. The face of the dead man flashed in front of my eyes. I snapped out of my sombre thoughts as we rounded a corner and Junius began to laugh. Not a belly laugh, more of a snigger.

'That bastard Centurion will take all the credit you know. We may not get fame through this, but I just put my hand in my leather pouch and guess what?'

'What?'

'I have enough gold here to buy a bloody tavern. I don't know what they were doing there but it must have been pretty lucrative if they had that much gold.'

'So what?'

'Don't you see? They were concocting a deal of some sort. We need to find out what kind of deal and maybe there'll be something we can discover that'll be useful if not to our careers, then maybe to our purses.'

'You could be right,' I said, beginning to realise the significance of my friend's words, 'We need to talk to Polymecles and maybe go back to the tavern.'

We quickened our pace.

Chapter III

"I prefer tongue-tied knowledge to ignorant loquacity." - Marcus Tullius Cicero

Polymecles looked nervous. His eyes shifted around from face to face and he was clearly not concentrating on the conversation. The landlord looked past me, over my shoulder as I talked, and he was clearly shaken by something.

'Polymecles, we need to know!' I said.

The three of us stood in the tenement courtyard in the afternoon sunshine. It was hot but cooling down, for it was mid-afternoon and the city was finally beginning to stir. I could smell cooking from somewhere near. The brightness of the sun tinged everything with a bright yellow that made us squint. A fly buzzed around my head. Settling every now and again on my face, an itching crawling that made swatting irresistible.

'Lord, I cannot tell you. I have no knowledge of such things. I am but a humble landlord and no one tells me such things.'

'Look you silly man,' interjected Junius, 'We killed two men who were carrying large amounts of gold. There must have been a reason. Why would anyone here make a deal with the corsairs for gold if it wasn't important?'

'Maybe, Lord Junius, the inn-keeper can tell you? I cannot.'

'Can't or won't?'

'My lord, if I knew, I would tell you, for are not the Romans the new masters of this great city?'

'By Jupiter Optimus Maximus, if you don't tell me what you know or guess I'll tear the heart from your chest and feed it to the birds!'

Junius grabbed the unfortunate man by the front of his robe and hoisted him into the air. I stood in the background, having no taste for such dramatics. I was well aware that Junius would never harm the landlord and I suspected that Polymecles for all his protestations knew the same.

'Master! Master, please, all I know is that the corsairs do not only attack ships, they sometimes transport things and people away from the city. Why do you think that there was so little treasure left in the government coffers when you came? It could not be hidden in the city.'

Junius put the cringing man down. He smiled.

'We now have enough to pay you for your kind hospitality. Here are five gold pieces. It is all you are getting. I expect you to produce a good meal for two when we return. We're going to the tavern to see if we can find out more about all this.'

Polymecles looked at the gold in his palm and grinned in genuine pleasure. For a man who had seemed terrified only moments before, he seemed to make a remarkable recovery.

'You shall dine tonight like kings! I can even provide entertainment for such wealthy lords who can distribute such rewards to a poor and common landlord!'

He scuttled away and Junius and I were left alone outside the tenement.

'I don't think that approach will work on the landlord of the tavern,' I suggested.

'I think he'll respond to a gold piece, money loosens the tightest tongues you know. It is certainly worthwhile to give a bit to get a little, as my old father used to say!'

We made our way to the tavern where the fight had taken place. The streets were filling up with busy people, awakening from their afternoon rest. They were mainly thin, gaunt, drawn people, for the Roman occupation had not been easy on the citizens of Sinope. After three months of siege, to have most of the Roman army to billet and feed had introduced both ill feeling and deprivation. Lucullus' idea of winning hearts and minds was, it seemed, was not working well.

I could still smell cooking, but the overriding odour was of spices and body smells as we made our way through the streets. It was a smell of humanity on a huge scale and I realised that it must have been much the same for hundreds of years in this, the capital of Pontus. There were sounds too. Oddly, it came to me, that even in this far corner of the Empire they were familiar sounds, the same sounds as Rome. Vendors selling, children playing, an occasional shout, but the missing ingredient, striking in its absence, was laughter. We heard none. An occupation, we were realising, could not be pleasant for anyone and I confess, I felt for the Pontics.

As we rounded the corner of the tavern's street, we noticed immediately that the crowd had thinned on the tavern side of the street. Six or seven men were carrying large bundles wrapped in carpet-like material out of the tavern. I put my hand up to halt my companion and we stood still on the corner and watched. Apart from an occasional passing Pontic who glared at us, we were largely unnoticed or ignored.

The men carrying the bodies wore the same swords as the dead men, and were similarly dressed. Had not Polymecles said there were plenty of corsairs around in the city?

'They look familiar,' commented Junius.

'Yes, I wonder where they are taking their dead comrades.' I said, 'we might try following at a distance.'

'Why not? They may lead us to their ship.'

Following the men at a distance was not difficult but the problem was that we were both in full armour and our red tunics stood out like beacons on a dark shore. We followed all the same, and stopped at each street corner to keep a reasonable distance from our quarry.

The corsairs led us to one of the inland wharfs where stone three-storey warehouses lined a small quay. It was used mainly by fishermen in those days, as the large port of Sinope was on the eastern side of the peninsula on which the city was built. Most ships docked there. The men were met by three more and they opened the wide doors of one of the warehouses and entered. Junius and I waited, but nothing happened.

'You wait here, I'm going to try and get a closer look,' Junius said.

'No chance, my friend. Anyway if you hear any conversation you won't understand it, since you don't speak Greek.'

'All right we both go, but keep very quiet.'

'What did you say that for? I'm not stupid.'

'Well you look pretty daft. Anyway it's all Greek to me.' Junius was smiling, but his humour was wasted on me. I still had a mental picture of the dead corsair's face in my mind and it would not budge.

We sneaked closer using the gaps between the buildings for cover with each scurry forward. Within a few moments, we reached the door of the warehouse where the corsairs had entered. We could hear voices from within. Junius kept lookout whilst I put my ear to the gap.

'What do you mean gone?'

It was a rough accented voice speaking in Greek. The accent was unlike that of the locals in Pontus and reminded me of the corsair in the tavern.

'Gone is gone. All I found when I went to look for him was these two bodies, no gold and no captain.'

'Did you ask anyone where he went?'

'One woman outside said something about two Romans taking him away but I couldn't understand her accent. These bloody Pontics don't speak Greek very well.'

'If they took him to the temple we should be all right. He may even get back here. If he does, we'll still be able to do the deal.'

'You want to wait here with the place crawling with Romans? You're crazy!'

'Look, if the captain gets out he won't be best pleased to find us back on the ship with two dead palace servants on our hands will he? No, we sit tight and don't panic. The captain can take care of himself.'

'What's that?'

'What?'

'I heard a noise at the door.'

'Well don't just stand there, go and look.'

There was silence for a moment as the footsteps approached the warehouse door.

'There's no one there,' he called back, 'must be getting jumpy with all these red tunics about.'

We had backed away in time and stood in the gap between the buildings. Silently, we made our way towards the street where we had entered the little dockyard. Some sea birds flew overhead, their cackles mocking as we left. It smelt of fish.

The barman of the tavern looked askance at us when we entered and seemed to be deciding whether to run out through the door or stay.

'It's all right. I know last time we caused trouble, but this time we only want to sit down and talk. Promise!' I said.

The blood had been cleared up and the room was restored to its previous gloomy atmosphere as if no one had died and there had been no fight. We ordered some wine and this time paid generously for the best wine in the house, for of course, we could afford it. We leaned towards each other conspiratorially and spoke in low voices, much to the alarm of the barman.

'What did they say?' asked Junius.

'They said something about a deal and they thought their captain would escape. They obviously don't know about Roman's manacles and torture.'

'Are they going to escape? What did they say the deal was about?'

'They didn't, but the two men who died were palace servants but I didn't hear enough to make out what the connection with the palace might be.'

'The Pontic Queen is still here. Maybe they're arranging some kind of ransom or something. Maybe they're stealing something from the Queen?'

'Here, let's see if the barman knows anything.' Junius beckoned the barman. The tavern was empty; no doubt, the fight had scared any further custom away.

'Please pull up a seat and have a cup of your delicious wine with us.'

The barman sat down reluctantly, eyeing his two customers with suspicion. We had killed two men already in the tavern and he seemed keen not to join us. He sweated as he picked up his cup. He downed the wine in a gulp, swallowing nervously.

'Tell me, those two men who tried to kill us earlier; do you know who they were?' I asked.

'No sir.'

'You aren't in any trouble, I can assure you.'

'I don't know anything. Please don't kill me.'

'We are Roman soldiers. You saw it, the men attacked us and they outnumbered us. We don't go around hurting people for nothing. Here's a gold piece for you, if you tell us all you know.'

I put the coin on the table reluctantly. I had never had so much money in my life and it seemed a painful waste to give it to anyone.

The barman, a short, bald, rounded man looked suspiciously at me then Junius. He wiped some sweat from his forehead and then wiped his hands on his apron.

'I can tell you a little but you mustn't tell anyone. The corsairs have a strong presence in Sinope. They would kill me if they knew I even talked to you.'

He reached for the coin. I put a flat hand over it.

'Talk first, then money.'

'I know that the man you took away is a leader amongst the corsairs. The two men you fought with and killed are servants and bodyguards to the Queen. That's all I know.'

'Not worth gold, my man. More!'

'I did hear some of the conversation as I served the wine.'

'Well?'

'One of them said something about transporting it at night by ship from the city. The other said it would be politically advantageous for them if it were soon. That really is all I know, now please go, before they come back.'

'You have been of service to Rome. It will reward you to keep your eyes open and your ears receptive,' I said. We stood to leave.

'Oh there was one more thing, I nearly forgot. The corsair said something about his man in the temple would keep the troops away, but what he meant I have no idea.'

We walked slowly to our billet through the busy street. Women carrying jars and packages on their heads, men wheeling barrows and occasional carts filled the streets, criss-crossing in front of us as we walked. We threaded our way through the crowds and by early evening had reached the house of Polymecles.

The evening meal was already prepared and we dined well. The little half-Greek had been as good as his word. We sat in the dining hall each on a divan and ate from low tables set before us. The rush matting on the floor smelled a little damp but the whitewashed walls with their adornment of rugs and tapestries were homely enough. Polymecles directed the servant who waited upon us personally and the wine flowed for once.

There was roast fowl with honey, vegetable dishes flavoured with local spices and a large strange looking fish with oily tasting black fish eggs, all of it local produce. The wine had improved too. It was still a local wine but it was fragrant and floral. The deep dark colour stained our lips and teeth as we laughed and discussed the day's events.

'Aulus, I think there is a plot afoot that we might do well to report tomorrow.'

'Yes, it may be of interest to Asinnius. He seems to be a decent fellow, even if he did take our prisoner.'

'I don't mind him getting some of the credit but not all of it.'

We were drunk by this time and our speech began to slur.

'All we know is that there are plenty of the corsairs in town and that they have some kind of deal with the Pontic Queen to smuggle out some of the city treasures, if it is about gold.'

'True, but think of the kudos of being the ones who prevent the treasures of Sinope being smuggled out, under the noses of the entire legion.'

I hiccoughed.

'All right we report it and hope we get at least some of the credit.'

We drank more wine until late. I began to become thoughtful. Wine often does that to me.

'Junius,' I slurred, 'have you ever killed a man apart from today?'

'Only in Crete. You remember when I went out on patrol before the rebels were rounded up? Titus and I had a small skirmish and took out several rebels. I told you before. Why?'

'Because, apart from that other battle in Crete, you remember the one when we had a proper century co-ordinated fight, today was my first.'

'Good for you. He was attacking you and I don't think he would have stayed his hand wondering whether it was a nice thing to do or not.'

'That's not what I mean. As I wiped my sword on his tunic, I looked in his eyes. There was a light gone from them, I swear it by Hera! I took a life and although it all happened fast, it's still coming back to me in flashes. I see that face every time I look away or into the distance.'

'What do you think soldiers do? We kill or get killed. Anyway, we see killing all the time in the arena. Even children and women see the death throes of the gladiators. No one in Rome fears such things. Why are you worrying about it now?'

'Seeing a gladiatorial game from a distance is one thing, but when your victim is close enough for you to smell him, it's different somehow.'

'Maybe you aren't cut out to be a soldier? Maybe you should go home and tend cattle? You could even speak to them in Greek!'

I threw a half-eaten seed cake at my friend. We both laughed then and it took the seriousness out of the conversation. That night however, despite anything that Junius had had to say about it, I continued to see flashes of the day's events until sleep took me far away, much to my relief.

* * *

As dawn broke, Polymecles roused us and offered us breakfast. We ate bread soaked in watered wine and then fruit and figs. We set off through the streets and walked to the command headquarters. It was a cool morning but a clear blue sky soared above us, promising a hot day. Neither of us spoke as we walked. I had a thick head from the wine but Junius seemed none the worse.

I began to think about the previous day's events. I had killed a man and life seemed to go on irrespective. It was as if ending the life of the palace servant was a meaningless act. Perhaps his life was in itself meaningless. For it to end in that fashion, in that place, seemed doubly meaningless, in the scheme of things to me. Had he a family? Children? A home? Had I caused some great change by taking his life? I did not even know his name or his age or where he lived. I knew that I had robbed him of the most precious gift the Gods can give us - life.

I did realise however that had I not killed him, I would have been the one lying on that tavern floor and Junius might have been there too. Bleeding, dying hunks of flesh and nothing more. Nevertheless, I had survived. I was the victor and my life went on. Perhaps it was a prescribed pattern in the web woven by the fates, that his path and mine should cross and his life should end. I could still see his face. His lifeless eyes conjured up in me a sadness. It was not a sadness for my victim, but a sadness that taking lives was what I was here for and I was sure his would not be the last. Would jewellery have been better? I felt I had no answers and tried to distract myself as I always did with uncomfortable thoughts, as we walked. I thought about whether our corsair experience would set the scene for recognition or promotion.

Within an hour, we reported to the headquarters at the temple. We found Asinnius in the Centurion's office, eating a similar breakfast to the one we had left behind.

'Sir!' I said, standing to attention next to Junius.

Asinnius looked up slowly and smiled.

'Well?'

'We have some information to report about the corsairs, sir,' I said.

'Corsairs? What about them?'

'We followed some of them after the fight we told you about. They went to a quay in the town harbour and we heard them plotting. We think they're preparing to move some of the City's treasures away and thought you would need to know about it.'

'Yes, that's very interesting. I must discuss this with our Legate at once. You two go back to your billet and I'll send word to you. I think we may need to do something about this but let's see what the Legate thinks.'

'Permission to speak sir?' Junius said.

'Yes, Junius?'

'What happened to the man we brought in yesterday?'

'He died under torture. We learned very little from him. We did discover a little of what you did, but we had no idea where the quay was. You two have done well to find out where they are hiding.'

'Thank you sir,' Junius said with a smile of genuine pleasure.

'You are both excused drill today and I will let you know what we are going to do about this plot. The Legate may want to visit the Queen herself and find out more.'

We returned to our billet to await further orders. We had the feeling that we had done well and had taken the right action.

'Junius, it was a pity the corsair died under torture. I wonder what they did to him. He looked fit enough to me when we handed him over. I'll bet they were disappointed.'

'Yes, it's strange. I heard the legion's experts were better than that.'

We waited. Time seemed to pass slowly and by the time of the midday meal, we felt restless and bored. Our wait was terminated by the arrival of Asinnius. He was alone and looked as if he had hurried.

Junius and I stood to attention outside the tenement that we had made our temporary home.

'All right you two, you can stand at ease. I have now had a chance to discuss your findings with the Legate himself. The General has asked me to reconnoitre the wharf where you saw the corsairs and to report to him. I will return this evening. This kind of thing is best done at night. Meanwhile, I want you to both stay here and talk to no one about this. Top secret!'

'Yes sir!' we both said in unison.

As Asinnius rounded the corner, I looked at Junius.

'It was good of him to come in person; you would have thought that he would have sent one of the orderlies. Nice fellow really.'

'I suppose he felt he couldn't send someone else for this sort of thing, it must be very secret to need his personal attention.'

'Maybe you're right,' I said shaking my head, 'let's get some sleep, or we'll be sleeping tonight, when we should be exploring!'

'At least something is happening. I thought we'd both die of boredom over the next few weeks. Guarding Sinope isn't my idea of soldiering.'

Neither of us slept that afternoon. We were too restless thinking of the night ahead. When Asinnius returned, we were already waiting outside the building. He did not say much and we took him first to the tavern where we had first seen the corsairs.

'Where did they go from here?' Asinnius said.

'This way,' I said, indicating the street ahead.

The streets were beginning to clear now, as it became darker. Sinope suffered from the same problems as Rome, with wandering gangs of thugs who preyed upon anyone who happened to be passing. Even the presence of the Roman army had not deterred most of them for the army did not see its role as that of a peacekeeping or civil force.

We made our way to the wharf. As we reached the alleyway down which we had walked the day before, I began to feel there was something wrong. Perhaps I was still streetwise from my life in the Subura, or perhaps some sixth sense made me look over my shoulder. In the deepening dark of the alley, I could make out faint figures behind, flattening themselves against the wall.

I pulled my companions to a halt.

'We're being followed,' I said in a low voice.

'Where?' Asinnius said.

'Up there,' I said, indicating behind us.

'You two stay here and I'll go and see.'

'Is that wise, sir?' Junius said. He regretted it almost as soon as he said it. The scowl on Asinnius' face told him to be quiet.

As the dark of the alley rapidly swallowed the Centurion's figure, we heard sudden sounds as of a scuffle and then a short low cry, and then silence. The oppressive darkness, silent and menacing enveloped us.

I felt the hairs on the back of my neck prickle. I swallowed nervously.

We stood back to back and drew our swords, with rapidly beating hearts.

It is not the foe that you can see, that frightens, it is the one you cannot. Meridius had taught me to spar with the one that I thought might be there and if I was wrong , the worst was a wasted stroke but if lucky, the end of the fight. Despite the steel-like tension in my body, I was ready.

Chapter IV

"Anyone can hold the helm when the sea is calm." - Publilius Syrus

I awoke with a legion armed with hammers, thumping inside my head. I became aware, as I returned to the waking world, of a rocking sensation and realised quickly that I was on a small boat. I hated boats and the sea. My next worry was that I thought I had lost my left eye. I blinked repeatedly and realised that the obscuration was due solely to dried blood.

I looked down in the half-light and realised that a cut on my head had poured blood all down my tunic. It made me also notice that I only wore my tunic, stiff with dried blood. My armour was gone.

I tried to sit up, but my hands were bound, and all I could do, was struggle weakly.

'Hey, they seem to have woken up,' a voice said in accented Greek.

'They'll soon wish they hadn't,' said a second but much deeper voice.

The second voice was familiar. I looked up and realised that the voice belonged to the corsair we had captured and taken to headquarters. Had my legs been free I would have kicked myself for my stupidity. The corsair had not died under torture and he was here. I wondered if Asinnius was involved in the plot but that seemed unlikely for I was quite sure the Centurion was dead.

Junius sat next to me and glared at our captors. Similarly trussed, he hardly moved although we exchanged glances.

'Well, what do we do with the Romans?'

'I don't know why you left them alive,' the first man said.

'We can use them to row, they won't last long and it'll save capturing two slaves at the least. Anyway, the traitor bargained for their lives. Maybe an expression of conscience,' the corsair captain grinned with humour as he said this.

The bearded corsair reached over, put a hand on my head, and smiled, exposing his stained uneven teeth.

'Besides, this one is quite pretty, I might get to enjoy having him around,' he said, to the amusement of his companion.

'Yes,' said the second man, I wouldn't mind a bit of that myself.'

I felt myself stiffen involuntarily at the hand on my head. If I could have reached, I would have bitten it.

'Enough of this levity,' the bearded corsair said, 'As soon as the Queen comes aboard we sail to Kotais. It's the nearest Armenian town and then we can ransom her.'

'I thought that we were just hired to transport her and her goods.'

'Don't be stupid. As soon as she comes aboard, we keep her goods and she becomes our property! We can sell her back to Mithradates for an even bigger price than he has paid us already. The Pontics have no navy and there is no chance of them catching up with us.'

'Why don't we just return to Chersoneses? We know we're safe there and we can then send word to Armenia. Why risk the Armenians capturing us.'

'It would take too long and besides the Great King may kill whoever we send and then we are so far away that there is little chance of even finding out for a very long time.'

'Maybe you're right. I just don't like being in hostile waters for so long.'

'Relax! What could happen?'

'The Armenian navy, that's what!'

The little boat came to a halt as the two men shipped oars. They cut the bonds on our legs and stood us up roughly. I was tempted to fight by kicking my captors but thought better of it as I believed that I would be as likely to fall overboard as they would. I now wish I had done that, but the uncertainty of our situation persuaded me otherwise. It is often so, when people are captured. If they do not know what is going to happen they do not struggle. How else could large numbers of people be slaughtered otherwise, as often occurred when our armies conquered towns and cities, despite the few guards holding them?

They hauled us up with a rope and deposited us on the deck of a ship. Two men applied manacles to our feet. It was a standard bireme with two banks of oars and a cabin aft. Below decks, the galley slaves were chained to their oars and Junius and I were quickly taken below and fettered to the benches. The smell below decks was offensive and nauseating, even compared to the streets of the Subura. Involuntarily, I wrinkled my nose in disgust.

'Don't like the smell?' a broad, squat corsair behind me said, 'You'll get used to it. If you stop rowing or row out of step you'll get used to this too,'

He cracked a whip behind my ear without inflicting any damage. It was enough for us to understand.

Junius and I were on opposite benches and we could see each other, but could not communicate. The space in which we sat was ankle deep in foul-smelling bilge water. It was contaminated with urine and excrement, for we galley slaves were not allowed to leave our oars, unless the ship docked or was hoisted to dry land.

I felt for the amulet. It was still there, hidden from view beneath the neckline of my tunic. It is an odd thing, but it gave me a feeling of relief. I hoped it would bring me luck, but this in itself seems strange, for had it not brought me the worst of bad luck so far in my life? I realise now that nothing but ill had befallen me since my father gave it to me. None of these thoughts came to me then for my own sentimentality and nostalgia blinkered me. Whenever I touched the little green stone, I thought of my father and his words, his face and his smile, as he had set the stone around my neck.

No sleep came to me that night, weary as I was. Anxiety chases sleep away and the discomfort and smells were inescapable. At dawn, the captain came down to the slave deck. The overseer was with him.

'This is Artaxes,' he said indicating the squat bearded man to his right, 'He's going to be your best friend until you die. He will keep you safe, for he has the only key to your shackles. He will punish you if you don't work and he will damage you if you try to escape. We know all about escape here and we know how to prevent it. Don't we, Charis?' he said to no one in particular, 'Don't get any ideas.'

My head thumped and was only beginning to clear. The man next to me was a large fellow with a fair beard and long curly hair. He did not speak. He stared straight ahead into the gloom and I could have been invisible for all the interest he showed.

A large drum in the stern began to beat and I realised that we were starting to row. I pulled when my fellow pulled and rested when he did. The problem for me was that time seemed to pass almost without my noticing. During the day, the heat below decks became intolerable and a slave came round with a bucket of brackish water and ladled it into the rower's mouths regularly. The corsairs knew enough to keep the slaves alive or they would be at a standstill.

I found that my hands were blistering and becoming raw. As I looked at my hands, I felt the lash on my back for the first time. It was not as I imagined it. The whip was of leather and through my tunic; it did not cut into the skin of my back but stung. It stung enough for me to understand that there would be no breaks, no pauses just rowing. At nightfall on the first day, we were ordered to stop rowing and the rest came as a welcome relief. There was no light in the depths of the ship and I could barely make out the shape of my friend sitting across the narrow gap between the slave benches.

We were given a kind of gruel in rough wooden bowls. The smell of it was nauseating but I ate mine with relish, for I was ravenously hungry. Besides, I had eaten worse when I was in the Subura.

Artaxes came down the galley steps.

'You can rest for six hours then we move again. No speaking. I will be listening.'

I leaned across the aisle when he had gone.

'Junius!' I paused. There was no answer.

'Junius!' I whispered again a bit louder.

'Yes?' came the barely audible reply.

'We have to get out of here.'

'I know, but how?'

'How are the chains fixed?'

'Forget it, they're all passed through our manacles and then bolted to the deck.'

'Can we reach the bolts?'

'I can try.'

I heard the clink of the chains as Junius pulled them towards himself. The chain around my ankle tightened for a moment. There was the sound of Junius straining. He was a big man and strong. If anyone could pull up the stanchion, I felt he could. A sound behind us made him cease.

'What have we here?'

It was Artaxes. He carried an oil lamp in one hand and his whip in the other. Junius was sitting across his oar as if asleep. I sat with my head in my hands, mimicking despair and not moving.

'If I hear another sound I'll flog the first man I see moving. Maybe I'll flog one of you anyway. Is that clear?'

Silence, padding sandaled feet and more silence. The dark was oppressive but I took a chance and whispered to Junius.

'What happened?'

'It's firmly bolted and will take time. Even if I loosen it we have no weapons and there may be other stanchions on the chain,'

We fell silent; in our state of near exhaustion, we both felt that we needed sleep, I suppose. There would be no escape that night and we both knew it. I leaned on the oar in sheer and utter weariness. My aching frame began to relax despite the discomfort. I tore a strip from my tunic and bound the raw, aching, stinging skin on my hands, blistered by a whole day of rowing and I cursed under my breath. Any opportunity to escape and I knew I would take it.

I closed my eyes and thought of better times. I touched the amulet. Mental pictures of my mother, my father and the games of soldiers with Julius the boy next door came into my head. Happier times. Recurring unwelcome thoughts then insinuated themselves. The fire and its consequences and Gennadius touching me between the legs. I pictured Quintus Cerialis in his small house, padding around in his lonely life and how scared I had been when he caught me. I shook my head involuntarily as the negative and angry thoughts began to permeate. I drifted into a deep sleep, a blackness from which nothing roused me, not even the rats criss-crossing between my feet.

I awakened to the sound of the great drum that marked the stroke and timing of the oars. Almost involuntarily, I began to keep time with the man on my right. I glanced often in his direction, but the man never looked at me and as his head never moved, I began to wonder why.

I said in a low voice, 'do you speak Greek?'

The man faced straight ahead but for the first time since they had chained me next to him, he spoke. It was a good quality Greek and the cultured accent belied the rough unkempt appearance. His speech and accent were similar to that of Gennadius.

'Keep your voice down. Artaxes hears everything. That is why he is the overseer. He has ears so long they can listen around corners!'

'I'm Aulus. I'm a Roman legionary.'

'You mean you were. You're a slave now and believe me there is no escape from these people.'

'No, I'm a Roman soldier and I will be free.'

The Greek smiled sadly.

'I too was a soldier and now look at me!'

'My name is Aulus Veridius Scapula.'

'I am Charis. I have been here for almost two years.'

'Why don't you escape? There must be a way.'

'I can tell you are just a young man. There is no escape, only rowing.'

'How can you know? There must be some way.'

The man turned his face towards me. He looked but did not see and in the gloom, I saw why Charis never looked at me. Both eyes had been ripped from their sockets. He was as blind as Charon the ferryman who takes the dead to Hades.

'This is what they did to me when I tried. I hope now only for a quick death that does not involve torture or drowning.'

I said nothing but looked straight ahead, set my jaw and continued to row. I had grim fears now of the seriousness of our predicament. My feet began to sting and I realised that I had not looked at them since I was first chained. As I glanced downward, I could see that the filth in which we all sat had already begun to irritate the skin. I looked to one side and realised with sudden revulsion that Charis had no feet. There were shrivelled stumps below both ankles. Whether they had been cut off or had become diseased by the filth in which they dangled, I dared not ask. I realised then, that to escape was an urgent necessity and not a fanciful dream, for if we waited, it might be too late, our strength and will ebbing all the time.

I had to wait until we stopped rowing for the night. I guessed that we had anchored in a bay somewhere on the southern aspect of the Black Sea. I knew they headed east but other than that, I had no real idea of my whereabouts. I did not even know how far we had sailed, for I was no seaman and sailing had always been a mystery to me.

Junius worked at the stanchion that kept us chained. He worked silently in the night. How he managed to preserve his strength I cannot tell. He was a man of power and grim determination. There was no talk, no conversation. Junius had clearly understood the importance of getting away as well as I had.

On the third day, Artaxes scrambled suddenly down the steps and shouted.

'Get your backs to it! If they board us, you'll all go to a watery grave. We'll be fighting up above and if you want to live then row!'

The sound of the drum increased in volume and speed. I was finding it harder and harder to row in time to the beat. I was lucky in that Charis had been there so long that he did much of the work and kept to time. A galley slave who failed to keep time would be punished and I had already had enough strokes of the whip to realise that punishment in that hellhole was to be feared.

The drum slowed its beat for a moment and I could feel the ship come about. The pace suddenly increased to a maximum.

Suddenly a crash. An explosive crack of timbers shattering. The ship suddenly pitched violently to one side. The slaves to my left and Junius too, were suddenly flung to the starboard side. Their oars flew in random circles as the they let go of them. Water began to cascade down the steps behind me. Junius floundered in the now diluted bilge water at my feet. He was partially suspended by his chains. I clutched my oar in desperation. I tried to stand but the list to my right made it impossible. I saw Charis unconscious in the pandemonium. The water running down from above began to deepen, washing away the stinking fluid at my feet.

I realised we were sinking and amid the screams and cries that surrounded us, I hoped desperately that someone would come down to release us. No one appeared of course and the rising water was now at my waist. There had to be something I could do. I reached down to my friend as the water level rose inexorably. We had to release the chains, but how? I mimed to Junius to pull up the stanchion.

I took several deep gulps of air and followed the chain under the water, hand over hand. Junius must have realised what I was doing and he followed. We reached the stanchion by feeling for it and it took time, precious time. Time we did not have.

We came up again for air. This time, the water was up to throat level. Both of us, working together gripped the chain. Our blistered, raw, hands began to pull and jerk.

I pulled with a strength I had never thought I could muster. The stanchion began to loosen. Maybe Junius had already begun the process in his efforts during the night. I had to come up for air. I let go of the chain. I swam to the surface of the dark and chilling water but the level now was such that I managed only a tiny gasp of air before submerging again.

We knew there would be no more breaths of air. We pulled. We braced our feet against the planks that made the narrow space between the slaves on the two sides. My lungs seemed to be bursting. I had to breathe. I knew I could not. I would not. I refused to die like this. Not like a rat in a sewer. It could not be my destiny and uncannily I knew it.

I never understood afterwards how we mustered the strength. Perhaps we suddenly released some ethereal power from the Gods or maybe it was because in our desperation, we used every muscle fibre in our aching limbs, but the stanchion came loose and with it the fixings for the three rows of slaves either side. The deck was a struggling mass of drowning and injured men, limbs and bodies obstructing our movements as we fought to get to the stairwell.

I went first and as I pulled myself up the stairs. The pounding in my head became almost intolerable. I felt a hand on my right buttock. It catapulted me upwards, for Junius clearly had no time to waste beneath me. I could hold out no longer. I inhaled suddenly and involuntarily.

To my relief and surprise, I breathed air. Junius had followed and both of us breathed deeply, a stale unpleasant atmosphere, but it was air and it brought life to our flailing limbs. I felt my head clearing.

We were now on the upper of the two oar decks of the sinking vessel. The manacles on our feet made moving difficult. Swimming was hard. We managed to find purchase for our feet. We recovered our breath. I could see a gaping rent in the side of the vessel to my right. Water still flowed in. The list increased. We both knew the ship was sinking fast. We began our ascent to the upper deck and the chance of freedom.

I swung myself over the edge of the almost vertical hatchway. I held on with both hands. I saw bodies floating like flotsam around and below me. I wondered what to do next. The decision was made for me however, as the vessel lurched suddenly. It began to sink in earnest with a speed that surprised me.

The ship was going down not far from shore and our luck held. There were some barrels afloat as the ship went down. We each held onto a barrel, as the sinking ship drew us downwards in its wake. The barrels prevented us sinking far and we bobbed up, wearied, out of breath, but alive. We floated just long enough to gain our breath.

We struck out for the shore, holding on to our barrels, small strokes, manacled feet restricting movement. The water was cold despite the warm sun and our aching limbs were weak from fatigue and hunger.

We saw no other survivors, but did see the mast of a large ship, the size of a Quinquereme disappearing from our limited view of the horizon. The ship could have been miles away for all the difference it made to us; we were invisible to it and we could not tell whether it was Roman, Pontic, or Armenian.

Chapter V

"Gold is tried by fire, brave men by adversity" - Seneca

I was coughing and spitting, slumped in sheer exhaustion on the beach, like so much wet driftwood. Small wavelets lapped my feet and a sea bird inclined its head and looked at me quizzically when I raised my head. I began to get up and startled, it flew away, as Junius turned onto his back. The warm sunshine of a Black Sea afternoon began baking the corpses, scattered on the shingle, lying amongst the debris of the wrecked and now sunken bireme. Some were stuck with arrows and leaked blood, a pink cloud in the lapping sea. Some had clearly drowned, but there seemed to be none moving.

'Aulus!' Junius said, 'Are you all right?'

'Half drowned, exhausted and dying of thirst but otherwise ready for anything,' I replied with weak humour.

'We'll have trouble walking with these manacles. Maybe we can split them with rocks.'

'We can try. Let's get going. There may be other survivors. I don't know about you, but I certainly never want to see the inside of a corsair ship again as long as I live.'

'Any idea where we are?'

'No, all I know is that we were sailing and rowing east towards Kotais at the eastern end of the Black Sea.'

'How many days were we on the ship? I've lost track of time,' he said.

'Three days by my reckoning.'

'Long walk.'

'No need to delay then.'

I got slowly and painfully to my feet and shuffled to a corpse. I removed the sandals and put them on. My peripheral vision alerted me to a movement to my right. I turned. It was a red-robed figure and it began to crawl slowly up the shingle.

I looked around for a weapon and found a sword on an arrow-stuck body. I indicated silently to Junius and we both approached cautiously.

Junius reached down and turned the survivor over. Apparently, too weak to protest, the survivor turned over and looked at us.

'Who are you?' she said.

She spoke in a clear, cultured Greek with slight trace of the local Pontic accent. She sounded anxious.

'It's a woman!' Junius said, stepping back in surprise.

Then there was silence. The woman seemingly too exhausted to speak, we Romans too surprised. Flies buzzed around our heads, swarms of them.

Her face, despite the matted, wet black hair that stuck to it, was beautiful. Her almond eyes above the high cheek bones, were perfect and her skin smooth and pale, the colour of ivory. I mouthed a response but no words came. I reached forward to help her to her feet and she wrenched the arm away with a violence that surprised me.

'Never touch me! My husband has beheaded men for less!'

She said this in a now strong clear voice that belied her obviously wretched condition. Her eyes darted from me to Junius. She was thinking. Junius, who understood none of the words, stood still and stared.

'You must be Hypsicratea. I heard the corsairs talk about ransoming you back to your husband. What happened?'

'I do not speak to galley slaves!'

She turned and rose to her feet and I realised she could not be much older than I was. In height, she was as tall as I am and her eyes met mine in a level, withering glare. Deep, dark eyes, hard and black as cinnabar. Her raven hair hung in damp straggles over her shoulders and I noticed the naked ring marks on her fingers as she brushed the hair from her face. There was a large bruise on her forehead and a small abrasion on her lower lip. Her pink full lips framed white perfect even teeth, a rarity in modern life. I imagined how she would look smiling.

'We are not slaves,' I said, 'we are Roman soldiers, but we were captured by the corsairs.'

The Queen stepped backwards, and looked at us. Her wet gown of red cloth hung from her frame outlining her body in a way that made me look away in embarrassment at the thoughts in my head.

'What will you do with me?'

I turned to my friend.

'This is Hypsicratea, wife of Mithradates, Queen of Pontus. She doesn't like talking to us apparently.'

'You make a joke of everything Aulus,' Junius said with irritation, 'We have to take her back to Sinope, but Jupiter knows how we get there.'

'My husband would reward you greatly if you took me to him. He is a great King and a generous master. You would be rich beyond your wildest dreams,' this time in Latin.

'Your Majesty, we can't do that, for we have sworn an oath to serve Rome and letting you go free would be treachery. We're not traitors, we're soldiers.'

Hypsicratea looked down at our manacled feet. With a speed that surprised us both, she turned and ran up the sloping shingle towards the dense olive grove that edged the beach. We ran as fast as our shackles would allow, but neither of us was a match for the Queen who was sprinting away from us, holding up the edge of her gown.

Junius tripped and cursing, struggled to get to his feet again. I came to a halt next to him as Hypsicratea vanished into the olive grove. Her belt gave a golden wink as she disappeared from view.

'Just what do we do now?' Junius said having emptied his mouth of expletives.

'We get these chains off and find her. If we ever get back to Sinope, she'll be able to lead us back here to find the treasure that now lies in the bay. I know I could never find my way back, could you?'

We found some rounded granite rocks and began to hammer each other's fetters. In the state we were in, it took a good hour before either of us had broken the chains and the effort tired us both.

'She has a good head start on us Aulus.'

'Yes but remember she looked almost as worn out as we are and that long wet gown will slow her down, anyway we're lucky'

'What do you mean? I don't think being in this mess is lucky. The Goddess Fortuna can hardly be smiling on us!' he said.

'We are the only survivors after a sea battle and wreckage. Isn't that luck?'

'No, it's because the fighting was over by the time we came on deck! Maybe it was Neptune favouring us but I think that's unlikely.'

'Likely or not I'll buy a white bull and sacrifice it to Neptune and Fortuna when we get back to Rome.'

'I'll go halves with you; you can't afford a whole bull!'

'I would have if the damned corsairs hadn't stolen my gold.'

'Knowing you, wouldn't have wasted it on a bull anyway, I've met more pious men in taverns.'

'Maybe not, but right now we have to get that woman back.'

I wrapped the longer of the two ends of chain around my ankle and tucked it into my sandal strapping. Junius followed suit and we began to trudge up the beach to where we had seen the Queen disappear.

It was tiring work. The jagged rocky surface above the beach made walking difficult, but once into the olive trees, we found the going easier. We had no idea at first which direction the Queen would have taken, but we saw some indications, with small footprints in some mud, a freshly broken twig and a tiny piece of her gown torn off by an overhanging branch.

Within two hours, we had mounted a steep escarpment above the olive trees and both felt at the end of our physical resources. We looked down across a wide valley. There was a forest in the distance and a stream flowing through a gulley in the valley's base. We looked down and saw to our relief, a flash of red.

'You see it?' I said.

'Yes she's coming back this way.'

'She's running fast.'

'Don't think she can see us in these trees, do you?'

'No. let's wait until she's nearer. I don't think I could run after her.'

'No, I'm finished,' Junius said.

Invisible in the trees at the top of the valley, we stood still and watched, peeping around the bole of the tree from time to time. The Queen was retracing her steps.

After the passage of five minutes, I peeped out from behind the tree again and could make out her face. She looked wide-eyed and frightened. Something had panicked her and I was grateful for the sword I had picked up on the beach. I was in no fit state to fight but I would protect the Queen even if it meant my life.

Still we waited. The immobility allowed our tired limbs to regain a little strength. There was a scream. We looked at each other and with the same thought in mind both broke cover and emerged from the tree line simultaneously. What we saw surprised and terrified us both.

The Queen had backed up against the bole of a tree and a huge black bear stood swaying from side to side before her, massive claw-adorned paws waving and slashing the air. The bear bellowed in anger as if uncertain whether the woman before him was a morsel of food or an enemy. Twenty paces away we emerged, running downhill waving swords and shouting at the top of hoarse voices. The bear was distracted. It looked at us and looked back at the terrified woman and decided discretion might be the right choice. It backed away still on its hind-legs and then turned and walked almost casually down the hill, glancing over its shoulder occasionally.

We approached the Queen who ran to us and placing her arms around my neck put her head on my shoulder and wept. I had no idea what to do. I patted her gently on the back and said, 'All right, all right, it will be fine,' as if talking to a child, but I could not escape the look of mirth on my breathless friend's face. Aware that I had the wrong approach at least in Junius' view, I gently prised her arms from around my neck and asked if the Queen was 'all right'.

'Yes, yes, thank you,' she said and pushed me away, as if recovering her dignity, 'I disturbed the bear with its cub and it chased me. I was certain it would kill me.'

Her legs buckled beneath her and she sat shocked and exhausted on the yellow grass at our feet.

'Your Highness, if you promise not to run away again we won't tie you up, but if we can't trust you, then you will have to be bound. We're taking you back to Sinope whatever happens,' I said, leaning on the sword in my right hand. I was clearly worn to a ravelling too and the thought of another chase in my present condition was as welcome as another day of rowing.

'You would tie up the Queen of Pontus?' she glared at me as she had on the beach.

'We mean you no harm but we cannot let you go,' Junius said, 'In any case as you have seen these are not very safe lands for a woman on her own and you need protection if nothing else.'

'Please take me to my husband. He really would reward you with more gold than you can imagine.' Tears appeared in the corners of her eyes and they widened in a way that plucked at my conscience.

'We've heard that before, Your Majesty,' I said, 'we have to take you back.'

'Very well I promise, but it is a long walk back to Sinope and much can happen. Do not expect me to protect you from my people if they wish to liberate me.'

'Your protection is the last thing we would expect I can assure you,' Junius said.

It was late afternoon but the heat lingered and all three of us were tired, hot, thirsty and hungry. We had to rest, for extreme weariness from the day's events was overtaking us. Junius went into the woods from which he and I had emerged and left me alone with the Queen.

'Right now, my husband is feasting with his nobles in a great hall in Armenia. His spies sent me a message that they are well treated by Tigranes the King, and he lives only for the day when he can take back his kingdom from the Romans, who we regard as vermin.'

'I know nothing of such things Your Majesty. All I know is that I need to get back to my legion and that politics and great battles are for kings and politicians, not us ordinary soldiers.'

There was silence then until Junius returned with some roots, berries and olives.

'Here, we can eat these and hope to get some proper food if we find a farm.'

'There are very few farms in this region. We must be east of Tripolis, a small town on the north coast. If we walk west we will certainly come across a coastal town or fishing village.'

'You'd like that wouldn't you?' Junius said, 'then you can get us off your back. I know just what you are thinking.'

'But we must get food and water.'

'Water is easy. We will surely find a spring, and food we can steal. We won't be entering any towns or villages, for you to summon help in.'

A frown of irritation crossed her brow.

'You really don't trust me do you?'

'There are no stupid farmers in Aretium, I can tell you. After that beach episode, I would rather trust that bear we scared off.'

'We should get a little rest and then set off. We have a long way to walk,' I said, pacifying.

I had the feeling that there was a distinct dislike growing between the Queen and my comrade and I hoped it would not worsen. The physical difficulties of the next few days would be bad enough without having to listen to the Queen and Junius bickering all day. I thought it would drive me mad if it were so.

We rested for a couple of hours and then began our journey in a westerly direction as dusk approached, with aching limbs and deep sighing breath from the sheer physical effort.

It was late evening before we saw a light across a valley, high up on a crag overlooking the seascape.

'Maybe a house or a farm. We had better approach quietly,' Junius said. We made our way towards the light but the distance was greater than we had anticipated and it took a further two hours of descent and climb on rocky slopes.

We reached the top and found, tucked into a sheltered area behind huge rocks that there was a farmhouse. The light of a fire flickered through the open door and we heard the sound of sheep lowing in a pen nearby.

'Please, don't kill them,' the Queen said.

I looked at her. 'We're Roman soldiers, not brigands. We won't harm anyone unless they attack us. If you don't give us away, I promise no harm will come to anyone in the farm, but we need food and drink.'

'If you both promise, I will speak for you. Please, no violence. These are simple farming folk and they won't harm you.'

'You have our word as Romans,' I said.

She looked at me with a look of distain as if she felt that was an exceptionally poor recommendation.

We approached the open doorway slowly. The Queen spoke loudly in the Pontic tongue. It was a very different language from any that I understood and was closer to Armenian than Greek. I realised that she could betray us even now and who could blame her if she did? We were part of a conquering army and this was her homeland. I wondered if I would have done the same, had fate reversed our positions.

A farmer and his young wife owned the farm. There were two small children sleeping in one corner of the one-room farmhouse. A fire burned in the hearth, its light darting and wavering across a smoky, sparsely furnished room.

As soon as they heard the Queen's voice, they began talking in a fluent language that could have meant anything.

'I told them that we are merchants and that we were shipwrecked up the coast. I said we have to return to Sinope and they said they would give us food and a place to sleep. My people are always hospitable to strangers. Maybe that is how you Romans managed to overrun our country.'

The farmer a young man with bow-legs and an eager smile, produced bowls of mutton stew and freshly baked bread. We ate, with a relish that was the product of a day equalling any we had ever experienced, for stress and physical strain. After the meal, we spent the night with the Queen between us two Romans against a cold, stone wall. I slept the deep sleep that only true exhaustion could produce, clutching the green stone at my neck.

Chapter VI

"I hate and love - wherefore I cannot tell, but by my tortures know the fact too well" - Catullus

In the morning, I awoke before either of my companions. The farmer's wife had baked flat unleavened bread and she offered me some, hot from the oven. The smell and taste of it became a memory that I carried with me for the rest of my days. On that clear cool morning, the taste and smell of the bread took me home, to the bakeries where I had stolen food to survive. I went outside with the bread in my hand and looked across the valley that we had traversed the night before. A mist was layered across the bottom and birds circled in the air currents. Green hills rolled away to my right and the sea to my left was a flat clear mirror. The contrast with Rome and its polluted, stinking streets and crowded thoroughfares and markets pierced my thoughts.

It struck me that it was a beautiful place, where I could understand people wanting to settle and raise families. I had never had such thoughts before and I wondered what had happened to me to make me think such domestic and banal thoughts. I rubbed my neck; it was stiff and sore after lying against the cold stone wall all night.

I felt the amulet. It belonged to a different world to the one I was looking at here. It was as much a part of me as an arm or leg. I had always touched it when I had serious or secret thoughts and my memories seemed entwined in its little ridges and grooves. I was at last beginning to put something into my life and it was all through the Legion. It occurred to me that for me to move on in the Legion, would require more battles, more killing and more risk. I was ready for it. Ready for anything that would take me to the top.

A soft tread behind me interrupted my musings and I looked over my shoulder at the Pontic Queen.

'It's beautiful isn't it? It is farming country.'

'Yes but I am a city dweller. I wouldn't know one end of a plough from another!'

'If you end your life in a place like this you would learn how to make the land give you what you need. It is a natural way of life for men, even Romans. Do not all your soldiers talk about getting land and becoming farmers when they retire?'

'Yes that's true. Mostly they get settled on land that belongs to someone else, but their General has fixed to evict the existing tenants.'

'It must be hard on the tenants. It is not a just way to rule.'

'Justice? That is a word for senators and lawmakers. It has no place in the lives of us ordinary people. Someone who wanted to steal from my parents murdered them. That very justice that you speak of eluded them and me in the end. The crime as yet remains unpunished.'

'Surely even the Roman law will help to bring such people to justice?'

'No. The villains of the piece were rich and powerful and there is nothing that a poor soldier can do. I had some gold but the corsairs took it. It would have been enough for me to return to Rome and start a legal inquiry as a rich man. All that is gone. No one said life was fair after all. Why did you not give us away last night? I thought you would have.'

'Because I gave you my word. The word of a Queen is inviolable.'

'Thank you,'

'It is I who must thank you for rescuing me from that bear. You were both very brave. Not many men would tackle a bear with a sword'

'We just reacted I suppose. You seem young to be a Queen.'

'Yes, I was only a girl when I first met Mithradates. If he had not come along I would have married a merchant I expect.'

'A merchant? So you weren't born a princess or anything?'

'No, but at least I wasn't mixing with soldiers.'

'We aren't so bad you know.'

'Sorry, I did not mean to insult you.'

'No offence taken. To be honest we aren't the best company you know.'

'Good enough for me in a place like this.'

I thought her eyes softened as she spoke and I took a step closer to her. I felt then, that she was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. We stood like that for a moment, our eyes staring into each other's. Her full lips slightly parted, her breathing slightly faster. She tilted her head back a fraction and I could resist the impulse no longer. I pulled her towards me.

Her arms flexed then straightened with all the force she could muster, as she pushed me away. She caught me unbalanced and I fell backwards ending undignified, sitting on the ground looking up at her. The only injury was my pride.

'Excuse me, but I think you're interfering with our trading goods,' Junius said with a broad smile on his half-awake face, 'or do you normally sit down that quickly on the ground?'

My face must have screwed up with anger. Hypsicratea frowning turned on her heel and went back inside.

'I thought you were going to sleep for all eternity. We had better be off soon,' was all I managed to say as I got to my feet.

'Look, I don't want to be in your way all the way back to Sinope, but you will have to curb your appetites. That was a Queen and you my friend are just a grunt in the Roman legions. In the sex and marriage stakes with her you are a total no-hoper.'

'I could say it isn't any of your business.'

'Yes but there again we may just be thinking about survival and I don't want to threaten it by pissing off our package.'

Hypsicratea emerged with a bundle of bread wrapped in a cloth, and began walking westwards as if nothing had happened. We followed, bickering as only two close friends can.

We spent that day at a relatively slow walk across a rocky countryside of low hills and crags often overlooking the sea. The weather was hot and made the going difficult for we had to stop often to rest and drink water, which fortunately, we were able to get from a multitude of small clear streams that ran towards the sea across the rocky terrain. When the sun finally began to set, it left the three of us alone, tired and hungry. We ate some of the bread baked by the farmer's wife and we had enough for another meal in the morning.

We lit a fire in a sheltered area in a small vale. There was forest to the east and a high cliff face to the west, which we would have to skirt in the morning. Junius, restless as ever, went to scout the area and Hypsicratea and I were left alone. I looked at her with the embarrassment that only a rejected suitor could feel.

'I'm sorry for what happened this morning.'

'You should be. I am your prisoner and to lay hands upon an unwilling woman, let alone a Queen, is an offence punishable by death in my country.'

'I'm sorry, what more can I say? I would not offend you for the world.'

'Do you expect me to just say it's all right and forget it?'

'No, I suppose not, but it won't happen again.'

'I accept your apology, I suppose. What is your name?'

'Aulus Veridius Scapula.'

'You Romans have so many complicated names. I find them all hard to pronounce, let alone remember. What should I call you?'

'"Hey, you!" might be appropriate under the circumstances I suppose.'

She smiled then and her whole face shone with a childish charm.

'How should I address you? Seriously.'

'My friends call me Aulus. I have no family to speak of.'

'No family? Everyone has some kind of family. Why don't you?'

I told her the story of my early life and losses. I left out nothing, not even the thefts in the Subura. There was silence after I had finished. She looked at me with those dark eyes and I was sure for a moment I detected empathy, but wondered immediately if it was my imagination. I had already misjudged her once and I was disinclined to be tempted into another possible rejection.

As I looked at her, I realised how much I wanted her. It was of course, hopeless. I was a nothing. A grunt in the legion as Junius had so aptly put it and not a particularly experienced one at that. Once we returned to Sinope, I knew I would never see her again. This was the only time in the whole future of the entire world that I would have the sole attention of the Queen of Pontus, and I knew it. It hurt. It should of course not have been painful, for it was so obvious that even I should have known it. I still hoped.

Unfortunately for me, such feelings are strange creatures. Once they you prod them, they awaken and tear away at you until there is no rest, no solace.

The sound of footsteps broke the silence, interrupting us.

'Junius, where have you been?' I said as I turned towards the sound.

I stiffened when I realised. It was not Junius. The whole point of my staying in the makeshift camp was to protect the Queen. I had been too busy thinking of adolescent romance to do my job.

'Who goes there?' I said uncertainly. The military challenge was probably inappropriate but it was the best that my startled mind could come up

I saw two men, dishevelled but armed. One had a sword like the one the corsairs carried and the other had a double-edged axe. They looked at me but said nothing.

I heard Hypsicratea say something in a low voice and one of the men sneered as he replied. I could not understand the language for it was not Greek. I wondered what had happened to Junius. Had these men or their comrades waylaid him? I took them to be brigands, for many outlawed men wandered the hills and preyed upon the likes of us in these unsettled times. Some were from defeated armies and some were thieves and killers roaming the hills in groups.

Moments passed and I asked Hypsicratea who they were.

'Be careful, they are brigands. They want me and any valuables. Can you protect us?' the Queen said in a low and husky voice.

I stepped forward. I knew exactly what to do but was concerned that there might be more of them and half expected others to attack me from behind. I cursed myself for not paying more attention earlier.

They were inching forwards with an apparent lack of concern for my drawn sword. They split and one went to my left and one to my right. They moved slowly, so slowly. Most untrained people deal with this situation by backing away to one side so that both assailants could not attack at the same time. Meridius had shown me precisely how to deal with this situation but it required incredible speed. He had always said I was fast enough to do it, if I found myself in that situation.

Without worrying about their motives, for they were surely not here to pass the time of day, I decided to act. I stepped forward fast. I feigned a cut at the left hand man. It made him step back. I carried the stroke through to my right. A horizontal slash at shoulder height. I was fast. I knew I had done it correctly. My blade contacted the right hand man and he yelped with pain.

I hoped I had disabled him or at least slowed him down for I was looking at the other. He was the one with the axe. He had raised it to strike. Two handed, above his head. I stepped forward onto my left foot. I was inside his stroke before he could land it. My blade followed. I half turned, shifting my right foot forwards, but keeping my weight on my left. The sword followed. He still had his hands above his head as I killed him.

I felt the blade go home. It went all the way through his midriff to his spine, where it stuck fast. He took my blade with him to the ground as he fell back and it slipped from my grasp. The whole fight had taken seconds and words seem cumbersome and slow in the telling.

As the axe man fell, I surveyed what I had done. The first man I had hit was still twitching, his hands to his throat and a pool of blood accumulating around him. The axe man was limp and pale. I hastily loosened my sword with brute force from his body, uncertain if there were more of them. I was sweating and breathing fast.

I looked at the Queen. She had her mouth half open and she stared at me.

'I am so sorry you had to witness that,' I said.

'What?' her raised eyebrows quizzed me.

'The blood and that,' I said.

'I.... I have never seen anything like it,' Hypsicratea said.

'I'm sorry if we Romans seem barbarous to you but I really was just defending us.'

'No, that's not what I mean. I have never seen such a heroic thing even in the combats displayed in the Royal court of Mithradates. It was so brave!'

I realised then that she was not criticizing me - she was praising me. I felt breathless but pleased, like a puppy stroked and praised by its master for the first time. I was quite pathetic in those days with women.

With an absurd smile on my face I said, 'We must get out of the light. There may be more of them and it will be safer if they don't see us.'

I put my arm around her as I escorted her to a clump of trees nearby, where we sat on a rock.

'You are no ordinary soldier,' she said, 'If all Romans fought like that, they would walk in triumph all over the known world.'

'Well I am an ordinary soldier, but I have been trained with the sword for a year now, by the legion's champion. He has a skill so far ahead of mine, that it's incomparable.'

'I am so glad you are near, she said, 'I was frightened.'

'Don't be scared,' I said and dared put my arm around her shoulder, 'I will protect you.'

Although it makes me squirm to think of this, I was young enough to see myself as her protector, a hero, not her captor. I know not what role she slotted me into, but I liked it.

I saw Junius before I heard him. He must have approached stealthily and as he entered the firelight, I called to him. I could see the relief on his face as he approached us.

'I saw the bodies and feared the worst.'

'Don't worry, I managed to get them both, but I don't know if there are more. It isn't safe here.'

'No, maybe we should move out now. We will have to rest somewhere else with no fire. It attracts people like moths to a candle.'

Reluctantly, we began our journey again. After we had distanced ourselves by an hour's walk, we slept in a small cave with no fire. I went to sleep, excited like a schoolboy. I thought of Hypsicratea and despite my tiredness, I found it hard to sleep.

Chapter VII

"Love begets love, love knows no rules, this is same for all." - Virgil

We stood on a hill looking across the bay at the peninsula upon which Sinope was built. The city jutted out against the sea like a thumb on an outstretched hand, its high sea wall standing like jagged teeth, pointed towards the blue sky. Small clouds drifted cheerfully in the sky and seabirds cried as they glided on the air currents above us.

It had been a long journey, but we had avoided all the settlements and stolen and begged food and accommodation on the way for two weeks. Footsore, sunburned and tired we made our way to the city. Junius strode ahead, and Hypsicratea quickly and deftly squeezed my hand and smiled over her shoulder at me. My heart beat a little faster and a longing awoke in me. My fantasies of love with a Pontic Queen had not been fulfilled and I thirsted for her. That it might be an absurd fantasy had yet to emerge in my head, for youthful dreams know no boundaries.

The gate guard did not know what to think. Two bedraggled dirty soldiers, in torn and ragged red tunics and a young woman with a red, torn gown was not what he expected to see that morning. He hailed us and accepted our explanation. We were taken before the duty Centurion and then on to the officer of the guard.

Hypsicratea was escorted immediately to the palace and Junius and I were to be de-briefed by the duty officer.

'I want you to give me your report,' he said looking us up and down.

'Well it's complicated,' I said.

'Yes complicated, you see,' Junius said.

The Tribune looked at us as if he thought they were deranged.

'However complicated, I want to know what happened.'

We told our story, down to the last detail. The Tribune frowned.

'Pack of lies! You're the deserters who escaped last week. We've been looking for you.'

'Deserters?'

'Yes, deserters. Meridius and a contubernium have been searching for you since last week. Am I to believe you never deserted and were simply taken prisoner?'

'That's right.'

'I can't deal with this; it will have to go before the Legate. In the meantime, you will be placed under arrest and secured in the guardhouse. Do you understand?'

'We're innocent! We would never desert! If we were deserters why would we have come back?'

'Not my problem. Braccus, take 'em to the cells and if you have any trouble from them, make sure they know Roman discipline. There's every chance they'll be executed in a day or two in any case.'

We were led away to a guardhouse with a feeling of gloom. It was a block of small houses near the temple headquarters. They put us into a small dark room with two straw palettes in each corner and two small ventilators at the top of one wall. The place smelled of urine. As the door was locked ominously behind us, we both felt the injustice of our situation.

'It may have been a mistake to return with the Queen, you know,' I said after a few moments of silence.

'Nonsense, they need us to tell them where the treasure went down at least, if they're going to recover it.'

'They can ask the Queen and anyway she has a much better idea than we have of how to get there. In any case they have ways of extracting things from prisoners,' I said feeling gloomy.

We spent a restless night. The heat in the cell and the anxieties of our situation made us both irritable and depressed. During the night, Junius awoke from a nightmare. He sat up sweating only to find me, bolt upright, staring in front of me and fully awake.

'I had a nightmare, I was back on the corsair's ship,' Junius said.

'I can't sleep either. I was thinking about Hypsicratea. She is really beautiful.'

'For the love of Mercury! We are imprisoned and at risk of being executed for something we did not do and all you can do is occupy your mind with thoughts of a woman.'

'Maybe, but do you think she really likes me?'

'I'm beginning to think I don't! There is no prospect of you ever being with the Queen of Pontus, apart from which she is already married to the King of Pontus and he might have a slight problem with it!'

I pictured her face. A strong face, a beautiful face and I sighed.

Shortly after dawn, a guard awakened us and provided us with clean tunics and water in which to wash.

We were then escorted from our cell and into the presence of Lucullus himself. We stood before him at attention, two common soldiers expecting to be defending our very lives.

'You have been brought here for three reasons.'

Lucius Licinius Lucullus ex-consul and General of the Asian armies, was a tall man, balding and thin. He had a reputation for fairness and there was seemingly no meanness in him. He wore his armour however, as if it was a part of him and if any man in Rome, it was said, knew how to lead an army, he did. They also said that if anyone knew how to live and celebrate lavishly he did. His banquets were renowned and his wine a legend. His greying beard was neatly trimmed and his piercing blue eyes took in everything. He looked me in the eye.

'Firstly, we need you to help retrieve the treasure that the corsairs tried to steal. Secondly, you may be able to help pinpoint the traitor in our midst who helped the corsairs and the Queen in her escape. Finally, the army owes you both an apology for I think you have both done your duty and acquitted yourselves well in bringing back our prisoner, the Queen.'

I looked at Junius and we both smiled with relief.

'I have been talking to Hypsicratea,' he went on, 'She tells me how you both remained loyal when she offered to make you rich and I realise that you may have faced a temptation that few others would have refused. Rome is truly grateful. Well done! She also told me that you saved her life more than once. For that, Rome is grateful. If we had lost her, we would have lost the most important playing piece we have in the game of pacifying this part of Pontus.'

Neither of us knew what to say. We were in awe and tongue-tied.

Lucullus seemed in a genial mood. He sensed our discomfiture.

'I was once attacked by pirates myself you know. They sank all my ships off the coast of Africa but I was luckier than you were and managed to escape. I think after all you have been through, the army at least owes you a good meal. I will allow you both to dine with me tonight. The Queen has particularly requested you be there. Well? Have you nothing to say?'

'Sir, we are most honoured,' I said, for Junius appeared struck dumb.

'I presume you know how to behave at a palace dinner?'

'Yes, I think so sir,' was all that I could say.

'Very well then, you are dismissed,' a smiling Lucullus said, 'oh, and by the way, I'll be sending someone to discuss the business of the traitor so stay near your billet.'

We saluted and left.

* * *

The Royal Palace of Mithradates was a building to rival any in Rome for size and splendour. The frontage had layer upon layer of flowing marble steps at the summit of which stood stone columns supporting an archway of gargantuan proportions. The carved stone frieze depicted Roman defeats and battles fought by the previous three generations of the Mithradatic kings, rather to our distaste in our role as the occupying Romans.

As Junius and I approached, we saw lines of burning torches lighting up the stairway and even Junius the country boy, was impressed although he rarely enthused about the city architecture. I for my part, felt nervous. I had attended dinners in my father's home only once or twice and I had only a vague idea of what was expected at a banquet of this type. I had an eager anticipation despite, for I hoped I would see Hypsicratea and I felt I would brave any banquet even for a glance from her. Of course, I realised that there was no hope of any physical contact, but to my mind, inexperienced as I was, I felt that any kind of contact with that wonderful woman would light up my whole life.

Through the archway, we entered a huge reception hall lined by servants who showed the guests to the banqueting room. The massive room was grander than any I had seen before. The stone columns reached up to the wooden roof the height of six men above our heads. Brass plaques with strange symbols and writings adorned each of the massive columns, the stone for which had been imported from Egypt in the reign of Mithradates II.

The massive room was full to bursting at the daily banquets when the King was in Sinope, but during the Roman occupation, these dinners had dwindled into rather sad shadows of their former splendour. The room was barely a quarter-full and the guests were mainly Roman officers and local dignitaries. In typical Lucullan style, however, the General had spent sufficient time and money to provide an exceptional table, but there was a subdued atmosphere. The Pontics present seemed unwilling to relax or enjoy themselves.

On a marble dais at the far end of the room sat the Queen, a circlet of gold on her head. The golden crown had a small snakehead at the front. The snakehead had ruby eyes that glinted in the torchlight flashing as she turned her head. She wore a green silken gown with a golden belt and she looked as regal as I had imagined her in my dreams and imaginings. We were presented to the Queen and bowed low before her. She seemed unimpressed by our presence but nodded slightly. I looked at her with a sharp intake of breath and felt my heart beat faster. For one split second, our eyes met and I almost gasped, for I thought there was much in that glance, much that could not be acknowledged.

'I'm unimpressed by that!' Junius said, towards the middle of the meal, 'She hardly showed any recognition, let alone gratitude.'

'No,' I said, 'this table is so far from the dais that you would almost think she wanted to hide us away.'

'I can't complain about the wine though. It's the best I've ever tasted. Oi! You!' shouted Junius to a slave who was passing, 'what wine is this?'

The slave looked Junius up and down with an expression of distaste, 'it is a Falernian, from your own country. It has been imported by the General to honour his guests.'

It was said in a tone implying that Junius surely could not be one of the guests, but Junius failed to notice the thinly veiled disdain. He merely smiled happily, as he chewed on a piece of roast ox, which had been set down in front of him in the interim.

'Well what about that, the General has provided the wine himself, what a good chap he is,' mumbled Junius with his mouth full of meat.

'Impressive and very expensive,' I said, looking up at the dais and admiring the Pontic Queen. I wished I were seated with her, but knew that would never happen. I remembered the gently squeeze she had given my hand when we had arrived back in Sinope and realised dully that I had read too much into it.

The meal ended early and had been a subdued affair despite the lavish surroundings, wonderful food and excellent wine. Junius and I were a little the worse for wear and stood to leave. A voice reached us across the hall.

'Aulus!' It was a slightly drunk but smiling Tribune. He was tall gangling and thin with a shock of black hair. He approached in a good-natured fashion and made his way across the crowded room towards us. I had not the faintest idea who this gangling Tribune might be and wondered if I should salute or something.

'Aulus Veridius. It's me, Marcus.'

No recognition showed on my face. I tried desperately to place the speaker then suddenly realised who he was. I almost forgot myself and scowled but realised even in my cups that betraying my feelings was not appropriate.

'Aulus, don't you even remember me?'

'Of course I do. It's just that we parted on such bad terms. I am sorry my cousin,' I said.

'Well, I heard you had joined the Ninth Legion, one of my father's servants saw you on the Campus Martius you know. We had lost you totally before that and although we had tried to find you many times it was as if you had disappeared into thin air.'

'Really?' I sounded bored.

'We were so distraught to hear about the fire and the death of your parents, a terrible loss,' Marcus said.

'Yes, very kind of you. I was turned away at the gates to your house. Cerberus said I was not to be admitted.'

'Yes, my father found out about that and had him sold to a sulphur mine in Africa, because he was so angry. You poor thing, it must have been terrible. I had no idea, on that day when Gennadius was sacked. At least we have met now and can renew our acquaintance. I'm in charge of supplies in the fifth cohort.'

'Why the Ninth?'

'My grandfather was in the ninth. My father has also done some sponsorship for the Ninth Legion and has done some favours shall we say, for Lucius Licinius. Pontus is where the action is after all.'

'Your father bribed Lucullus then?'

'Not bribery! It's just a financial accommodation. It has been so long. Do come and see me when you have time.'

'Yes, I must do that.'

As Marcus left with Publius Crassus, one of the cavalry officers, I began to scowl. Perhaps it was the wine but I began to fume.

'Damn bastard! By all the Gods, I will have vengeance on him and his entire family.'

'Is that the one you told me about?'

'Yes, Junius. He is the son of the one who I think killed my parents, how I could have the ill fortune to end up in the same legion defeats me! They did it all for a flea bitten piece of land. I ended up begging in the streets of Rome while he had everything he wanted. Revenge will be mine one day, I swear it!'

'It doesn't do to talk like that. He's a soldier like us and there is no way you can take revenge on an officer anyway. Maybe you're wrong in any case. Maybe they didn't kill your parents. Wouldn't you look stupid if that Tribune was innocent?' Junius seemed oblivious to his slurred speech.

'Maybe so, but I have this gut feeling it won't end here, his being here is beyond coincidence.' I said with unusual prescience.

As we began walking towards the entrance, a servant approached.

'Is one of you Aulus Veridius?'

'Yes, that's me.'

'Her Royal Majesty the Queen requires your presence in the council chamber.'

'Lead on!' Junius said.

'Excuse me sir, but the Queen said it was a private matter that could only be discussed with your friend. I am so sorry,' the servant interposed himself between us and I shrugged and said 'I'll see you back at the tenement later.'

'Don't do any thing stupid,' Junius said, and his smile belied the gravity of his warning as he turned and left the building shaking his head.

I followed the palace servant through a doorway behind the dais and she left me standing in a huge torch-lit room. There was an oaken table in the centre. As I looked around, I saw more of the great tapestries, and marvelled at their clarity and size.

I walked towards the other side of the room, my heart beating fast and a young slave girl appeared through another doorway at the side.

'Her majesty will see you now,' she said in accented Greek, 'please follow me.'

I followed the slave, who lit the way with a small oil lamp, through dark twisting corridors and three staircases to the upper floors. My heart was thumping in my chest again as I did so. I lost track of the direction, but the slave girl reassured me that we were going to a quiet place at the top of the palace.

After what seemed an interminable walk she showed me into a small room lit by a number of flickering oil lamps, set on low tables. As she left, the slave girl said, 'please wait here, Her Majesty will be with you shortly.'

There was a divan against the far wall. I inspected the furnishings. Green silk drapes with an embroidered pattern of flying birds, criss-crossing in flight and alighting, hung at the windows. I waited. A gentle cooling breeze raised the silk drapes. I glimpsed a balcony on one side as the wind lifted the flowing silk. I walked towards it to get some cooling night air, when I heard her approach. A gentle slapping of leather sandals on the marble floor.

I looked round and the sight of her took my breath away in an instant. She wore another gown, but this time of red silk. A silk so fine that her perfect body was outlined with a clarity that fitted only into one of my dreams of her. The gentle light of the flickering oil lamps caressed her outline in a way that I found almost magical and it seemed to ensheath her with fire.

'Aulus, you came,' she sounded casual.

'Hypsicratea. You look as radiant as a starlit sky.'

'Have you been learning poetry, or is this a new Aulus who stands before the Queen of Pontus?' She was mocking me, but I did not mind, I was glad to be in her presence, like a dog basking in warm sunshine.

'I am sure you are wondering why I sent for you.'

'Err... Yes. I, I mean no. Yes!'

Hypsicratea smiled. It was a powerful smile and I felt tongue tied and embarrassed. I was not behaving in the way I had in my dreams. Alone with the woman who featured in most of them, was not turning out to be as I had imagined.

'I wanted to thank you for saving me from that bear and protecting me from the brigands on the journey back to Sinope, even though it was not where I wanted to go.'

'It was my great pleasure Your Majesty.'

'You need not be so formal when we are alone,' smiled the Queen.

'Hypsicratea, I am always pleased to see you,' I regretted it almost as soon as he said it. It was not at all what I wanted to say. The clumsy words were so inappropriate, that I flushed as red as my swarthy skin would allow. I was sweating.

'I have something for you, she said. She went to a low table in the corner of the room and picked up a small leather purse.

'This is just a small token to replace the gold you said you both lost to the corsairs. Please share it with Junius.'

I took the purse and looked into her eyes. I could have fallen into them I was so mesmerised by her beauty. I had nothing to say. Words evaded me and I stood, probably looking as foolish I felt, shifting from one foot to another like a child. She spoke again.

'Did you enjoy the banquet?' she said.

'Yes it was really nice,' again, I regretted my words. I wished I could find the right ones.

'I am glad,' she said, 'well it is late and I must retire. Will you call again? I would love to hear how you and Junius are getting on. We spent such a long journey together that I almost miss the two of you.'

'Miss us..?'

'Yes! Are we not friends?'

'Well, yes I suppose so.'

'Then you must come again and we can have some food next time and talk about the journey. It was after all quite a memorable one.'

'Yes I'd love to. When should I come?'

'When do you finish your drills or whatever you soldiers do during the day?'

'We do more than drills, we do weapons practise and...'

I saw her smile then. She was making fun and I had missed the point entirely. I felt my stupidity had reached astronomical dimensions.

'Yes, of course,' I said, 'perhaps tomorrow evening?'

'Aulus, why are you so different now? You were all confidence and strength when we were travelling together. You killed two men to protect me as if they were nothing, yet you seem nervous and on edge this evening.'

'I don't know. It's being alone with you I think. On the journey we were never alone and it seemed easier to communicate then.'

'Never mind; we will get to know one another. I have very little company that is worth speaking of, here in the palace. Since my husband left I am surrounded by people who say only what they think I want to hear and it is so unutterably boring!'

My courage seemed to flare. I felt restored by her confidence in me and the knowledge that she actually wanted my company.

'Tomorrow evening then? I will be pleased to be in your company and I hope you will not find me too dull.'

'I'm sure I won't, Aulus. Goodnight then.'

Chapter VIII

"To change your mind and to follow him who sets you right is to be nonetheless the free agent that you were before." - Marcus Aurelius

'Aulus, we're soldiers and we're in the business of killing her people. What does she want with you? There must be a hundred young men around who would oblige her intellectually. Why you?'

The morning sun was shining as we walked to the temple of Athena. Lucullus had adopted the temple as his headquarters because it was central and had a huge square in front of it. He liked to stand on the steps and address his men where they could see and hear him easily.

'Junius, are you jealous? She genuinely likes me, I know it.'

'In your dreams my friend! She wants something from you and you're too love-struck to see it. Listen to an old hand! Women use men. It's been like that since the beginning of time.'

'You just can't face the idea that she wants my company and not yours!'

'Wanting your company is not the same as wanting your body you know. Maybe that had escaped you!'

'It's too soon for that. Anyway, she is married already. What am I supposed to do, challenge her husband to a fight? I would have to go all the way to Armenia to do that.'

'This is the stupidest conversation I've ever had. We probably will be going to Armenia so you'll have your chance to challenge Mithradates if you survive long enough. If Lucullus found out that you were visiting the Pontic Queen in the evenings, I don't think he would be very pleased. Do you? He would regard one of his soldiers consorting with the enemy as treason.'

'Do you really think so?'

'Yes.'

'I wonder what Mithradates would think?'

'Doesn't matter, he's never coming back anyway. He's hiding with the Armenians and when we crush them we'll crush him too.'

We had arrived at the temple. Outside the temporary headquarters, we both saw Asinnius simultaneously. We stood still in surprise and gaped as he approached.

'Well it is good to see you two! I thought we had lost you both forever. What happened to you? I had my hands full for a while in that alley, I can tell you, but I managed to fight my way out and got back here. The only way to get them to search for you was to say you'd deserted and it worked. They sent out search parties everywhere. I'm so glad you're both alive.'

'If all that is true sir, can you explain how the corsairs knew where we were? Who was the man they had in the legion? Can you explain how the corsair who we delivered to you didn't die of torture but was alive and well on the ship that we were enslaved on?'

'Maybe you were mistaken. These foreign chaps all look very similar.'

'We can check about the one we brought in.'

Asinnius scowled.

'If it comes to it, it's only your word against mine, and I think they will take my word over two deserters, don't you?'

'You bastard,' Junius said.

'You will address me as befits my rank and don't forget it. If I find either of you have said a word of this to anyone, the time you spent on the corsairs' ship will seem like a dinner party compared to the rest of your time in this army. I will make it happen. Understand?'

Junius, whose face was turning a dark shade of red, was about to reply with the venom he felt, but I lifted my hand and gently pushed my friend out of the way.

'Of course we understand, as long as you cut us into the deal.'

'You want in?'

'Yes, we aren't stupid. We know when we're beaten.'

'A bit of sense at last from you two. We can talk about it later, meanwhile you have to report to Meridius across there, in the guardhouse,' he indicated to the right where there was a small building.

'Thanks Asinnius, I mean sir,' I said and half dragged Junius away in the direction of the guardhouse.

As we walked away, Junius looked at me with a puzzled frown.

'What in Mount Olympus are you doing?'

'We have to be smarter than him. There's no point in giving him a hard time now. We need to tell Meridius about the whole business. He's as honest as a Vestal.'

'Frankly, I trust none of these officers. They're all untrustworthy and won't take our word against that of a Centurion. You need your head examining.'

'Meridius will believe me. I know him. Trust me.'

As they entered through the low doorway of the guardroom, I was dismayed to find Marcus Mettius there with Meridius.

'Aulus! How nice to see you again! We were just talking about you,' Marcus said.

Meridius looked at him with puzzlement in his face.

'This isn't a social gathering Mettius. They're here to discuss matters of secrecy and importance to the Pontic war. You can do your socialising on your own time.'

'Sir,' I said standing to attention.

'Mind if I stay?' Marcus said hopefully.

'Yes I do mind. This is top-secret military business and the less people who know about it the better. No doubt I'll see you later Marcus,' Meridius said testily. He had had enough of the new man for one day and found that Marcus grated on him.

'By the way Marcus,' Meridius said.

'Yes?'

'Put some blacking on that stupid shiny armour would you?'

'What?'

'We never polish our armour because it attracts enemy bowmen like moths to a candle. If you don't, then I will see to it you stand all on your own if we ever get to a battlefield. I have no intention of being skewered by an enemy arrow because you're nearby!'

'Oh, right,' said the apparently nonplussed Marcus. As he left, he told me to look him up after we had finished. He walked smartly out of the door but I heard him pause outside to see if he could glean anything useful.

'So you two had a rough time of it I hear,' Meridius said.

'Pretty rough sir,' Junius said who had recovered some semblance of his composure after his meeting with Asinnius.

'I didn't think you had deserted. It didn't fit with my own assessment of you. You had better tell me what did happen. I may have some special duties for you. The Legate has instructed me to find that treasure and it will require another sea trip I hear.'

We told Meridius the entire story including the supposed death of the corsair captain under torture.

'There was no torture and no prisoner.'

'I know that sir. Asinnius lied to us and we think he was in league with the corsairs all the time. It would explain his escape when we were caught.'

'It would require proof and that seems to be sadly lacking,' Meridius said, 'It's only your word against his.'

'Asinnius thinks we want to be part of his plot, which might be useful.'

'Yes, I suggest you play along with him and report back to me when you have some evidence. I will have him followed.'

'What do we tell him?'

'It's not important what you tell him. If he's being followed by one of my men he won't be able to do anything too bad.'

'If we're caught, will anyone else know that we are innocent?'

'It's enough that I know, I don't want any loose gossip. I will however, write a report on this and see that Lucullus gets it, if it makes you feel any better. He's probably the only person in the army who doesn't need money.'

'Can I ask a question sir?'

'Of course.'

'Why are you giving the traitor so much room for him to do his damage?'

'There is more at stake than corsairs raiding the coast. I can't tell you all the details but the General has things he wants hidden from the Senate. He is a man who worries about security. The whole idea of spies in the army makes him nervous since his ultimate aims are not something he wants broadcast across the political ranks of Rome.'

'I don't really understand.'

'Don't worry, all I need from you is to string Asinnius along and see what comes of it. He is going to be followed and there is no way he can escape, now that we know about his treachery.'

We then discussed the location of the shipwreck and Meridius decided that the best person to guide us was the Queen. The chance of true cooperation from her, we all acknowledged, was only slim, but I volunteered to try to persuade her.

'You think she'll listen to you?' Meridius said in surprise.

'She might sir,' Junius said, glancing sideways at me, 'Aulus and the Queen were quite friendly throughout the journey and she knows that she owes us her life.'

'Very well, Aulus, you should go to the palace and see if you can persuade the Queen to enlighten us but if you can't, you two will just have to take a team of engineers and retrace your steps. Hear me?'

'Yes sir,' I said.

As we left, we noticed Marcus Mettius at the corner of the square walking hastily away.

'Do you think he heard anything?' Junius said.

'He might have if he was outside the doorway. I don't think it matters if he does. There isn't anything he can do, is there?'

'Are you really going to see him later?'

'That man may be implicated in my parent's death, or at least his father was. I wouldn't piss on him if he was on fire,' I said with feeling.

'Dangerous to feel so strongly about an officer. He obviously doesn't know that you guess. That's if he actually knows anything.'

'He knows, all right. It's written all over his face. He doesn't fool me with his friendly attitude.'

'What if you're wrong?'

'Do you think it was just a coincidence that he joined the Ninth Legion? I' don't'

We walked to the palace.

'I can deal with this by myself if you like,' I said hopefully. An opportunity to be alone with Hypsicratea seemed too good to be true.

'Not on your life. It's my neck too. We do this together or not at all.'

We walked in silence to the Royal Palace. At the gate, they let us through without difficulty because we used the name of Lucullus.

The Queen's servant greeted us at the entrance to the building and walked us through to a garden with seats at the side of the building. Servants brought watered wine, dried fruit and nuts on silver trays.

Hypsicratea joined us. She looked radiant. She wore a loose fitting long purple gown of a material that hung from her frame as if it were part of her. Her golden belt held it in at the waist and showed off her hourglass figure.

'I trust you both slept well after the banquet?' enquired Hypsicratea.

'Better than ever, thank you Your Majesty,' I said. Junius looked up at the sky impatiently. He might as well have been invisible for all the attention I paid him.

'Your Majesty,' he said, 'we are here at the request of our officers to ask you if you will help our engineers to pinpoint exactly where the ship sunk.'

'Which ship was that?' Hypsicratea smiled broadly.

'The one we all escaped from. It may have been carrying something of value?'

'Yes, but why should I help the Roman oppressors seek those things of value. They are the property of the King of Pontus and not the Senate of Rome.'

'Some might suggest that they were the spoils of war. Might they not?'

'Even if they were the spoils of war, that does not entitle Rome to possess them once they have escaped the custody of the General Lucullus,' Hypsicratea said.

'It belongs to Rome now and we will get it back.'

I glanced at my friend. To hear a country boy, a farmer, talking like that to this great Queen, whom I worshipped, seemed insulting both to her and to me. It irritated me.

'Junius, perhaps you should go back to the house of Polymecles and let me discuss this with Hypsicratea. I am sure an agreement can be reached.'

Junius showed no sign of irritation, merely a calm resignation that surprised me, for it seemed out of character.

'I know when I am not wanted. I'm going.'

He bowed and took his leave. I looked at the Queen.

'I will be pleased to help the Romans find the wreckage as you ask, if it will bring mercy and kindness for my people from the conquerors,' she said, 'I will receive your engineers then and I will look at some maps with them but I cannot travel away from Sinope again. It is here that I serve my husband best in protecting his people and his city. I know that now. I should never have tried to escape. You had better go now Aulus.'

I stood up since she had dismissed me, and I said, 'am I still welcome tonight?'

'Tonight? Oh, yes, I had forgotten. We can talk and have some refreshment Aulus. It will be nice to lay aside my mantle of formality even if it is only for one evening,' she said, all stiffness gone for the moment.

She smiled and waved her hand at me in dismissal. As I walked away, I was aware of my heart beating rapidly in my chest and an involuntary and uncontrollable tumescence beneath my tunic. I realised then, that my feelings were unreasonable, for I had had no indication that Hypsicratea had any feelings for me apart from friendship. It seemed that all she wanted was polite conversation. Despite myself, I knew I could hardly wait for nightfall.

I had difficulties working out in my head what was happening. Hypsicratea was a Queen. Logically she would no more think of me the way I thought about her, than she would want a suitor made of garbage. I knew it deep inside but fantasy is a strange thing and who is responsible for their fantasies? Certainly not a young soldier like me, for whom half of life was already a fantasy. Dreams of greatness pursued my sleeping and waking hours in the same measure as my thoughts of Hypsicratea. It was like the games I played with Julius in my childhood. Dreams of greatness, but in this case the dream was close at hand even if in reality it might as well have been on the moon.

Chapter IX

"Each man is the architect of his own fate." - Appius Claudius

Despite my feelings for Hypsicratea, I behaved myself when I went to visit her. As I walked up the marble steps of the palace entrance the two guards, spears in hand detained me only for a moment for Hypsicratea had informed them of my visit.

Hypsicratea had sent her personal slave to the main doors to show me to the reception hall. It was a huge room and I felt dwarfed by the high ceiling and huge tapestries on the walls. Hypsicratea was waiting for me. She led the way to the western courtyard where we sat surrounded by flowering trees and plants.

She had arranged an informal meal in the Pontic style. A huge fire burned on an outdoor hearth and meat roasted on a spit before it. We sat on seats at a table, which was a new way of dining in such formal circumstances, but Hypsicratea was full of it as a new fashion that had struck Pontus in the last year or two. It was a means of communicating with more than one person at a meal she told me.

'The Parthians have started to do it too you know,' she said earnestly, as I sat pulling meat from a roasted chicken in front of me.

'Do what?

'Eat at tables and sit on seats just like this.'

'Seems just the same as a tavern to me,' I said without thinking.

'A tavern? Is that how you eat in a tavern?' she seemed disappointed with my reply and it dawned upon me that she was not the sort of woman who would ever have eaten in a tavern.

'Well yes, Your Majesty. It is. The barman serves you at the table and...'

She was looking at me as if I had given a major revelation and it served only to accentuate the huge gap between us.

'Hypsicratea, I think you and I have led such different lives that there may be no common ground between us.'

'No that is not true. You have more of an education than any of the ordinary soldiers I have met since Mithradates left.'

'It wasn't much of an education. I had a Greek teacher and he taught me some Greek. I did learn some history and how to read and write, but I am not a well-read man at all. Most of what I learned was about heroes and wars. Where did you learn?'

'I had a visiting tutor. My father was a merchant in Herakleia. He ensured that all his daughters were educated. He hardly expected me to be a Queen.'

'How did you meet your husband?'

'I didn't.'

'How do you mean?'

'He saw me thought an open window. He was there in Herakleia with his officers, raising an army. His army occupied Bythinia than. He saw me and sent for me. He is a powerful man in mind and body and if he wants something in his own land he simply sends for it.'

'You mean he just sent people to get you? What did your father say?'

'Oh no, it was not a matter of sending for me for that! He sent for me to ask if I would marry him. He was besotted and when I told him he had to ask formally for my hand he did.'

'What was he like?'

'Was? He isn't dead, just absent.'

'Sorry no, I mean what is he like?'

'He is the strongest man I have ever met, physically and mentally. He can easily kill a man with his bare hands and he can negotiate with kings and not falter. I have never met anyone like him and suppose I never will,' she looked at the ground as she said this and it was plain that she missed her husband. I wanted to put my arms around her but I knew it was not the right thing to do. She seemed to foster that particular quality of protectiveness in me that some women do to men.

It is sad, for that wish to protect, only thinly veils sexual intent. I wanted her desperately but dared not move a muscle in her direction, for I knew that she would never want me, not like that. Compared to the great Mithradates I was a worm. There was no competition and her admiring description made it plain that there was no hope for me.

I smiled and continued talking to her about the war, about her family and about my life, uninteresting, as the latter seemed to me. We laughed a good deal and I was sure she liked me but had no right to expect it to be so.

'Would your husband not be angry if he knew I had been visiting? I am after all a Roman soldier.'

'But there is nothing improper happening.'

'But people talk.'

'I think he would always take my word for it. He loves me and trusts me. That he might take the word of a servant against mine is unthinkable.'

'There must be some risk surely?'

'If Mithradates comes back and if anyone were to cast aspersions I think he would never be angry with me. He loves me you know.'

'As long as you are sure that my presence here does not endanger you it is a pleasure to be here with you. This is one of the best evenings I have spent since I left Rome and perhaps ever.'

'You are a strange one, Aulus.'

The hours passed rapidly and in what seemed to me to be but short moments, the evening ended.

'I must retire now,' she said, yawning.

'Then I must bid you goodnight. I have really enjoyed being with you Hypsicratea. It is a shame that we are on opposite sides in this war.'

'I do not think it needs to be a problem between us. I owe you my life after all and if I had some means of repaying you, I would. It may become a good basis for friendship in the future. Will you come again?'

'As soon as you wish. I meant it when I said this is one of the best evenings I've spent for a long time.'

'I have a banquet to preside over tomorrow night, with the Parthian ambassador, but the day after, we could perhaps do the same as tonight, if you wish. Of course, it depends on if I survive the Parthian visitor. He is so boring! He tries to be subtle but everyone knows what he wants.'

'What do you mean?'

'You are familiar with the relationship between Parthia and Armenia?'

'Not a lot.'

'Oh, they've been sparring for years. Well, the Parthians want a split between Armenia and Pontus and think they can do it by encouraging Tigranes' son as a rival to the King himself.'

'And will they?'

'No, of course not. Where have you been for the last year? Mithradates had married his daughter Cleopatra to Tigranes. Why, he's practically family now!'

'Oh.'

'Well never mind, it'll keep for next time. I'll tell you all about it if I can stay awake.'

'I'll look forward to it Your Majesty.'

'Then sleep well my friend,' she said and smiled a smile that seemed out of all proportion to necessity.

I walked home with a smile on my face wondering if perhaps there was a chance that I could one day hold her in my arms. I imagined how it would feel and was lost in the thought when I literally saw Asinnius.

He was walking towards the palace on the other side of the street as I entered from the side entrance.

'Hallo, what have we here?' he said.

'Good evening sir,' I said in an easy fashion.

'I've been to the north end of town to meet some of my contacts.'

'Corsairs?'

'Yes, they're after some information about fleet movements and I thought we might try to find out a little that they might pay to hear.'

'I am sure that can be done, Asinnius. Mind if I ask you a question?'

'Depends on what it is.'

'It's just that I don't understand why you're betraying your comrades in this way. You must have served Rome in this legion for many years and yet you seem to have abandoned the very loyalty that made you join up in the first place. It seems odd.'

'That's a stupid question and one which many men would take your head off for. I'll tell you what made me do this, shall I? It's simple,' he poked a finger at my chest, 'Money. Just money. I've served Rome for fifteen years as a fighting man in this legion. I have killed men in five different countries. It's taken all my formative years and given me what in return?'

He paused but not I think, for me to reply, it was to ensure that he had my full attention.

'In return I've had wounds, deprivation, exhaustion but nothing else. When I retire in five years time, it will be to a small farm somewhere in Italia and a tiny pension with which to work it. I want more. I want to have enough money to settle comfortably and use slaves to do the work and eat well and drink good wine for the rest of my days. I know that can't happen if I do nothing. Simple!'

'There must be another way. You're allowing them to kill your fellow soldiers just to get money.'

'I've had five years to think about it. I made some money betting on the chariot races and that sword contest of yours was lucrative. It's only now, in Pontus that I've had the chance to make real money. I have to live with the effects of my treachery, but what's your excuse? You've joined me in this. You don't sound as if you approve. Have you changed your mind?'

'No, of course not, but I don't want anyone to die because of any information I pass on, that's all.'

'Look Aulus all they want is information, they pay well for it and I ask no questions about what they do with the knowledge I give them.'

'All right, what do you want me to do?'

'I believe that the Tribune in charge of the stores is a chap called Marcus Mettius. You know him don't you?'

'Know him? He is a cousin of mine but there's no friendship between us.'

'Well you had better engineer a friendship because I want that information. I don't care how you get it. You can sleep with him for all I care.'

'I can't see him giving me any information unless he gets to speak to the Corsairs himself. Can you fix that?'

'Don't be stupid. Why would he want to do that?'

'Because he isn't a trusting person and he may want to be certain that you aren't cheating him over the payment.'

'Considering you don't like him you seem to know a lot about what he wants.'

'I know enough about him to be able to guess. Trust me.'

'Trust? I don't think so. I can't see any way you can do anything to me though, so I don't think there is much risk. Talk to the man and then come back and talk to me. I'll let you know what the corsairs think in a day or so.'

He slapped me on the back and walked noisily into the night leaving me pondering the ramifications of the situation. I began to wonder if I had created a hole and was about to launch myself into it head first.

* * *

It was early morning. The sun was rising and the streets were beginning to fill with busy, hurrying townspeople going about their business. A street vendor plying his trade on the corner began setting up his stall and a smell of baking bread permeated the morning air, as I looked from the window of the tenement that Junius and I shared. I had awakened and Junius was snoring. It drowned out much of the street noise below, of children shouting and carts passing.

'Veridius,' I heard a voice calling from the street. It was a gruff voice with a broad Sicilian accent. It took only a few seconds before my head appeared and I looked out.

'What in Hades? Oh, sorry sir,' I said as I recognised Asinnius. My hair was tousled and my eyes blinked in the sunlight, 'I'll be right down.'

Junius and I appeared in our tunics unwashed and unkempt. Our officer seemed impatient.

'We should talk,' the Centurion said.

'Can you wait here for a few moments? We'll be ready in no time,' I said. Junius scowled, his usual morning demeanour involuntarily appearing.

'There is a food place round the corner. We can talk over breakfast,'

Asinnius had walked around the corner and sat on one of the benches of the eating-house, where they served fresh garlic bread, olives, and watered wine.

'I'm not sure I want to be seen talking to you in the open,' I said as I approached wearing my gladius and my helmet, somewhat out of place without any armour.

'Relax, what could be more natural than talking to your Centurion in an open street?'

'What do you want?' I asked as we sat down.

'I'm being pressed for information, but I have little to tell my business associates. Have you spoken to your cousin yet?'

Junius looked at me quizzically. I had not told him about the night I had bumped into Asinnius near the palace.

'Not yet. I haven't had time.'

'Good. There's a change of plan.'

'What do you mean?' I said.

'Relax, there's money in it.'

'How much?' asked Junius.

'Twenty pieces of gold each. They'll pay me to find out where the treasure ship foundered.'

'How stupid. Do you mean to tell me they can launch an expedition with divers and gear to raise the ship?'

'No they don't want to do the work, they'll be content to let the army raise the ship if it's possible but they want to get the treasure afterwards.'

'We know roughly where the wreck occurred; the Queen herself has been working with the engineers to locate the spot on our maps. In five days we set off with the navy and the engineers to look for the ship and see if it can be retrieved.'

'How would they raise it?'

'Depends on whether it's deep or not. I was discussing it with one of our engineers and he said that they would put bladders of air underneath the decks and pump the ship up until it floats then pull it to land. They have done it before near Antioch when a treasure ship went down,' Junius said.

'We are both going along since we should be able to recognise the place.'

'Five days, you say?'

'Yes,' I said, 'they've assembled their gear and they'll only take three ships. They're not expecting trouble from either the Armenians or the corsairs.'

'I'll pass the message along. Meanwhile you two just go along with whatever they ask of you. Who's in charge of the operation?'

'Meridius,' I said.

'That big-headed bugger? He'll get his, when the corsairs board the ships! I wish I could be there to witness it. He's been riding me ever since we arrived.'

'I've never forgiven him for beating me in the sword contest, so I'm with you,' I turned to my friend, 'how about you Junius, are you in?'

'Of course I'm in. Any chance to make enough to get out of this army!'

We parted then and neither of us spoke until we were back in our quarters.

'It seems a little unwise you know, to get so heavily involved.'

'Junius trust me. I'll relay the information to Meridius this evening that we have a means of passing messages to the corsairs through Asinnius and then the trap will be baited and the traitor will get what he deserves.'

'What now?' Junius said.

'Drill and then a spot of lunch,' I grinned, 'let's hope we aren't late.'

We got ready and walked through the now crowded streets of Sinope to begin a routine day in the legion.

I glanced over my shoulder nervously.

'You know Junius; I could swear we're being followed.'

'You seem to say that a lot these days, maybe the heat is getting to you.'

'No. It's a sense I picked up in the Subura, you can feel the person behind you. It's a funny feeling, but it saved me from being caught many times when I was a thief.'

'You're crazy,' Junius said, 'I can't feel anything. Let's just have a relaxed day with a little marching, guarding and weapons drill and then we can both sleep soundly tonight. Well perhaps one of us can sleep soundly. I don't know where you will be!'

'Junius, there's no harm in meeting Hypsicratea, we're just good friends.' I said with a serious look on my face.

'Really? I thought perhaps...'

'Don't be stupid my friend. You were right all along. There is as much chance of me having a real relationship with that woman as there is of me becoming Centurion next week!'

'Oh, I'm sorry. I know how you feel about her. Many more birds in the trees though.'

'Maybe so, but I just can't stop thinking about her. I'm seeing her again this evening.'

'Again? If you don't, you know... don't... what do you do?'

'We talk. We laugh a lot and she likes me.'

'Just be careful. If you try it on, she can cause you so much shit you wouldn't believe it!'

'I don't think she would, but I have no intention of spoiling our friendship by being stupid.'

'Well said.'

'I still want her very badly. I'd do anything for a chance of just one night with her.'

'Why?'

'I think I love her.'

'Rubbish man! Love is for women and children. Take what you want and move on until you want children and then get married. It's always been that way.'

'For you maybe, but not for me.'

'Have it the way you want, Aulus but mark my words, it won't bring you anything but grief. It's like being a fox and looking up at a bird in a tree. You'll starve long before you get what you want!'

'Bloody farmers,' I said.

'Of all the men I know in this army you are one of the bravest in a fight, but when it comes to women you don't have a clue.'

'And you do?'

'Yes, my little friend, I do.'

'What about this Ari... whatever?'

'Aripele? She's great. She's stopped charging me and comes because she really likes me. Impressed?'

'Not a lot. She's a whore.'

'But maybe she won't always be that way. I think of her quite a lot you know.'

'I thought you said...'

'Well, yes. All right, maybe I was being a bit harsh.'

'Sounds like neither of us really knows anything about women. But who does? Even Jupiter had his problems.'

'That reminds me. What happened to that bull you were going to sacrifice?'

'We can't afford it now.'

'True. If we help raise that ship though, we'll get a reward. We may end up rich after all.'

'Can't see how they'll do that. It's at the bottom of the Black sea.'

'Where there's a will there's a way. And there is a will.'
Chapter X

"Time discovers truth." – Seneca

I had grown up surrounded by the architecture of Rome and the temples, basilicae and fora of my home city were some of the finest in the world. Sinope was even older and I remembered Gennadius teaching me that it had originated as a Hittite colony hundreds of years ago. Building and rebuilding had lent it a strange geography and the winding streets contrasted sharply with its huge temples and massive squares. Unlike Rome, all the buildings in Sinope were constructed of pale yellow sandstone peculiar to that southern coast of the Black Sea. It made the streets bright in the sunlight and many people wore hoods in the day both to see better and to cool themselves down.

They had built the city on a peninsula and thick, high stone ramparts surrounded it. Sea walls that hemmed in the city protected it on the seaward side. The docks were prolific. It was as if the Pontics had reproduced Ostia ten times in scale and the amount of sea traffic must have been a nightmare to control.

The Royal Palace was a huge building. The marbled steps at the front and the massive entranceway were only a part of the enormous structure. No one could fail to be impressed by the sheer size of the building. They had built it on three levels each supported by massive marble columns. Every time I visited, Hypsicratea would entertain me in a different part of the palace. Most often, we ate and talked reclining on the terraces. There were gardens and a small apple orchard where Hypsicratea and I sometimes walked.

It was the day before my departure for the reclamation of the Pontic treasure and Hypsicratea and I were walking in the palace grounds. I could hear sea birds calling in their high-pitched tones high above us and could smell the faint spicy smell of food cooking wafting on a cool breeze.

'You know Aulus, I never thought that we could become such good friends. It has meant a lot to me to have you to talk to and laugh with. My life has always been so serious and verging on austere,' she said.

'It matters to me too. You know I value your friendship above almost all others.'

'Almost?'

'I suppose that is no compliment. I'll rephrase it. Above all others. You will never know just what I feel for you.'

'We can't become too friendly you know.'

'How do you mean?'

'I am married.'

'I know that. I hope you don't think...'

She looked at me then with those dark eyes and I hoped I had not ruined everything.

'My husband will never return you know. Rome is too powerful. All I can do is to stay here and try my best to make sure that your people do not oppress my subjects too much.'

'Why do you think Mithradates will never come back?'

'Something the Parthian ambassador said.'

'Oh?'

'My husband is almost a prisoner in the court of Tigranes. The Armenians, who promised us aid, refuse to join my husband in the war. He has no other allies and nowhere to run. He will never be at peace, and I am here alone.'

'I wish I could comfort you in some way.'

'Your very presence is a comfort to me. I value your friendship even though there are certain risks.'

'I too risk being seen as a traitor. If there were a breach of security, I might easily be accused of having said too much. Not that I know much, but all the same there is that risk.'

'Life without risk is no life at all as my husband used to say.'

'Do you really think you will always be alone?'

'Yes. Sometimes I despair. I sometimes wish I could run away and just be me, not a Queen, no responsibilities.'

'Why don't you?'

'It is simple. I love my people, I love this land and I have to put them first. Without their Queen my people would just be vassals of Rome and have no identity.'

'No, they would still be who they are. Do you really believe that simply having a Queen is what makes them Pontic? Surely it is their history, their language and culture that gives them their identity?'

'Aulus you are such a strange man. You are only a simple soldier but you talk like an intellectual'

'My Greek tutor taught me well. He often said that even simple men can have complex thoughts.'

'He was right you know. But such men often cannot express those thoughts.'

'Then I am twice lucky. Not only do I express myself well enough but I have you to hear what I say.'

'We are both lucky. Without you here, I would be stuck in a continuous tedium of talking with people who try to impress me all the time. You have no idea how bored and lonely I get.'

'I do understand,' I said.

We had reached the terrace where the palace servants had prepared the meal. I was living like a king, I thought. Did I a simple legionary really have a right for this beautiful young woman to entertain me and allow me to glimpse this life of luxury? That I would do anything to be in Hypsicratea's company was obvious, but I had not realised what it was doing to my hopes and expectations of life. I had never before set my sights higher than being a good soldier. I now wanted this kind of life but it should have been clear even to me that it was not attainable nor would it ever become so.

There was a small table set between the two divans on the terrace. Jugs of wine and water were set upon it and a servant poured wine for me as I reclined looking out on the seascape below us. Birds drifted on the wind and there was a flat calm, the sea reflecting the last of the sun's golden rays. We started with eggs, simple boiled eggs but a real treat to most Romans who often start dinners in that way. A variety of dishes then appeared, pickled fish in an herb sauce and roast meat with a variety of vegetables.

In my mind, I compared it to the food we ate on the march to Pontus and I smiled an involuntary smile.

'Why do you smile?'

'I'm sorry; it was only that when we march we live off corn porridge. It gives us energy and you can't get dysentery from it. I always look forward to my meal times when we march. I don't think I will ever see porridge in the same way now.'

'Perhaps I should send one of my cooks to accompany you when you march away from Pontus?'

'I don't think it would go down very well if you did. The whole purpose of soldiering is to all conform so that no one is different. We can all function as one body that way.'

'I was joking you know.'

'I know, but it was such a tempting thought.'

We looked at each other and grinned. I loved being with her and I was now sure that she liked me too. I wanted to take her in my arms so much but the invisible barrier of possible rejection and its consequences stood between us, tall, ethereal, daunting. It was an unassailable barrier and I knew it.

'I'm leaving tomorrow,' I said.

'For the treasure?'

'Yes.'

'I will be surprised if your navy can get it. It's at the bottom of the sea. How do they propose to do it?'

'The engineers seem quite optimistic. They are going to try to float it using air bladders.'

'That would be quite an achievement. I hope the corsairs do not find out. They have a powerful presence on our coast.'

'So do we. We can fight them off if we need to.'

'You will be careful Aulus?'

'Of course. You seem concerned.'

'You know I care for you. I would not like to lose such a good friend now that I have found you.'

I looked at her and wondered. If she could have read my thoughts, I would have been utterly embarrassed. As it was, I could not help but think that perhaps she was playing a game with me. We both enjoyed time together and the more time we spent in each other's company the deeper my desire drew me in. I spent almost every waking moment thinking of her and as I walked home, I pictured how it would be to desert and hide in the palace with her. To be with Hypsicratea, all day, every day and make love to her. It was my idea of Elysium.

I went to sleep that night to the sound of Junius snoring and still I thought about the Queen. I clasped the amulet. I ran my finger over the ridges in the silver wire. It turned my mind to matters of real significance in my life. I realised with reluctance that I had my duty to Rome and to my family name and that desertion was not an option, but as Somnus began to grasp me, I imagined how it would be if I ran away. A pleasant fantasy began to form in my head, of holding hands with Hypsicratea as we walked along a beautiful beach a passionate kiss and a long embrace.

Chapter XI

"You cannot escape necessities, but you can overcome them." - Lucius Annaeus Seneca

I felt nauseated. I hated ships; on that day, I hated the sea too and the weather left a lot to be desired in addition. I stood on the deck of the rocking bireme soaked to the skin in the heavy rain that always followed the long hot dry summer.

I still puzzled over how the divers managed to stay underwater for so long and was quite sure I could never emulate them even if I practised for twenty years.

It was the fifth day of the reclamation process. The divers had placed draglines under the decks of the sunken ship and were going to use them to pull large, air filled, leather bladders into the vessel. They had erected huge pilings alongside the wreck and attached lifting gear to the sunken ship. None of the engineers had done this type of work before, but they seemed confident enough. They had told me that they only needed to have the wreck on the surface long enough to take off the treasure and then they could let it settle back on the floor of the Black Sea forever.

Junius put a hand on my shoulder to steady himself.

'Incredible isn't it? Our engineers can do anything. Raising a ship from the sea is an unbelievable story. You wait until we get to the taverns back home. They'll be spellbound. Think of the rounds it will earn!'

'Junius, your trouble is you think of wine and women too much. I'll believe it when I see the chests of gold brought onboard.'

'Cheer up you pessimist! No drill, no marches, no guard duties! This is a holiday compared to the usual drudge of guarding Sinope.'

'I never found it so boring.'

'No but you had a Queen to distract you.'

'Maybe you're right.'

I stared at a diver who had come up for air. I leaned across the gunwale and shouted 'How much more?'

'Nearly finished. By tomorrow we can try to float her,' the diver said gulping air as if it was in short supply.

I looked down at the bare wooden planks of the deck. I thought of Hypsicratea. I thought of making love to her and touching her, kissing her. It was becoming an obsession. I do not recommend unrequited love to any man.

'Wake up! What's the matter with you?'

'Nothing, just tired that's all.'

'Meridius wants us in the cabin; try to snap out of it.'

We made our way unsteadily aft. There was a leather screen across the doorway to the main cabin. We entered and the ship lurched suddenly. My legs bent slightly to accommodate the initial upward movement. It threw me up into the air and pitched me forward. I ended by knocking a cup of wine onto the Tribune's lap.

'I don't mind being informal but I think you're stretching civilities a bit don't you?' Meridius said brushing the wine off with one hand, a rare smile appearing on his lips. He was in a good mood. Operations were going well and the raising of the wreck seemed to be on schedule. The prospect of regaining the massive wealth that Hypsicratea had described put him in an excellent humour. Lucullus had guaranteed him a share. He told us that it would be enough to pay off his debts and allow him total independence when he returned to Rome.

I straightened up, 'Sorry sir, this seafaring business isn't my best side.'

'Where is Asinnius?'

'He's on the other ship. The engineers are keeping him occupied, sir.'

'He won't have time to send any messages or signals?'

'It seems unlikely. The engineers are keeping him very, very busy.'

'Good. We should be able to offload the ship tomorrow and get on with the business of soldiering again. Like you, the sooner I have my feet squarely on dry land the better.'

'Permission to go ashore?' enquired Junius.

'Yes, we have just about finished here anyway. See if you can get the cooks to organise some decent food and you two can join me. Oh, and by the way, get them to provide some wine, last night was the worst excuse for wine I have ever had,' Meridius said.

The two of us went ashore in the small boat used for transporting the crew and equipment and we obeyed Meridius' instructions to the letter. As we sat in the command tent Meridius began talking of Rome and her greatness and what a privilege it was to be part of this great army.

'Are you serious, sir?' asked Junius.

'Of course I'm not bloody serious. We're here for our own reasons, every one of us. Me? I'm here to get money to pay my way in the world and make it easier to move into the political scene. What are you two lads here for?'

'Aulus is here because he signed documents to say he would be. Cerialis, an old soldier caught him thieving when he was a youth and forced him to join the legion. Me? I'm here because the alternative was to be a farm worker for the rest of my days and to be honest, this life suits me.'

Meridius turned to me.

'You never told me that Quintus caught you stealing.'

'I was just a lad then. I was all alone on the streets of Rome and had no other way to support myself.'

'You didn't try to rob him did you?'

'Well I broke into his house and he threatened to kill me actually.'

Meridius laughed.

'He would never harm a child. I told you how he fought twenty men to save a comrade?'

'You mentioned it.'

'Well, he stood on that bridge and killed all comers. He was a vicious killer but he was loyal and had a kind streak too. I think your presence here demonstrates that. I would have killed you!'

'I don't believe you,' I said. We all laughed a little at that.

'Here's to Mercury, the expedient one! May he push our venture to the limits and bring us our just rewards,' Meridius said raising his cup.

We drank long into the night and Junius and Meridius retired mellow and with smiles on their drunken faces. I was still moping when the others left and I sat for a time thinking of Hypsicratea, but finally I slept, slumped across the rough wooden table only to awaken at dawn with cramp and a headache.

* * *

As the wreck of the bireme broke the surface of a wave-torn sea, a cheer rose from the crews, soldiers and engineers. They had pulled more than a hundred air-filled bladders into the lower decks and each bireme, manned by rowers, pulled thick hawsers across the wooden piles, driven deep into the sand and rocks below. The raising was a slower process than any of us had imagined and it took a full hour of hard work to elevate the hulk to a level where they could board. Below decks, I could see the remains of the slaves, still chained at their oars floating, almost waving in a grim greeting.

Twenty men, selected for their strength, knocked a hole in the deck to reach the cargo hold. Using rope, they secured and lifted the chests of treasure onto the waiting biremes as we a stood and watched. There were fifteen such chests and in front of the soldiers or crews they remained sealed. They were stowed and when the job was done, the wreck was released and it sank, carrying with it its cargo of dead.

I had odd, mixed thoughts about the whole episode. I remembered the feeling of being on board that bireme, the overseer's lash and the presence of Charis, blind and crippled next to me. When the wreck was gone, I heaved a sigh of relief. It had been a time in my life I was glad to have behind me. The experience had changed my views on many things, not least its aftermath: love, disappointment and a burning desire to be with a woman I could never have.

* * *

It took the rest of the day to prepare for the journey home. A team of soldiers, sent to a rocky promontory high up to the west, burned the unwanted timber and rope. The smoky fire burned slowly and a huge cloud of smoke drifted upwards almost vertically into the grey sky.

When all was ready, they rowed us away for there was little wind. The ship rocked intolerably to my mind, as I stood in the prow of the first bireme. The grey overcast sky looked down on the three little ships as they bobbed in the cold, green water. Sea birds followed in the wake of them and I looked south. The smell of the salt air stirred those memories that still plagued me, as we headed slowly west on the return to Sinope.

'Not exactly an adventure was it?' Junius said, joining me.

'No, but I think we'll all get something as a reward. Maybe they will promote us?'

'In this legion the only way to get promoted is through battles. If they lose too many Centurions, the likes of us have a much greater chance, once our enemies make a little room at the top for us.'

'What's that?' I pointed at the horizon to the north.

'I can't see anything.'

'There. Right away as far as you can see. I'm sure I can see something.'

'Yes maybe. What do you think it is?'

'I don't know, maybe just some traders?' I said as we stood staring at the horizon.

'They seem to be heading this way. They're getting larger.'

We went to the cabin and reported to Meridius, who came up to see.

'They could be any kind of ships. I can see at least three. With our cargo I don't want to run into ships of any kind.'

'Can we outrun them?' Junius said.

'Probably not, if we could out sail them, they wouldn't have appeared on our horizon. They have to be faster than us.'

The three of us waited in silence for a few minutes and Meridius went to speak to the captain.

'I'm surprised it took you so long to see them. My men have been aware of them for half an hour already, but they could be any kind of ship at this distance,' said the captain, a burly, salty, seaman of vast experience.

'We have good reason to avoid other shipping, you know that.'

'Yes, but we may not be able to avoid them if they really want to catch up with us. The weight of the cargo slows us down. We could always pitch it overboard...'

'Would you like to explain to Lucullus how we pitched his Pontic treasure overboard in case there were corsairs on out tail? You can't be certain it's the corsairs anyway.'

'Judging by the rate they're gaining on us it could well be the corsairs, although they usually wait in the coves and sail out as soon as they see a ship pass. These have come from the north so presumably they were headed in this direction on purpose, possibly even days ago.'

'We head west then?'

'Yes west is the safest. We can't put ashore anywhere, the coast is too rocky. We might be able to hide in a cove but the approaches to them are dangerous with strong currents.'

'If we could land, we could fight them on foot. I have almost two centuries aboard these ships.'

'We have no time to land. We run,' the captain smiled as he said this, a grim smile that betrayed little hope.

Junius and I walked unsteadily to the prow. We were heading west and all we could see was a long line of monotonous craggy coastline. The breeze began to get up and the captain had the single square sail hoisted, but it only stiffened occasionally and the sailors at the oars had to maintain their rowing efforts in between. To me it felt as if our boats were limping compared to the speed of the approaching ships.

The distance between the pursuing ships and our three biremes began to shorten. We could make out that there were at least six ships, a trireme and five biremes but they were moving fast and closing the gap quickly. The main fighting force of all three ships began to prepare for a fight. There were ballistae mounted at the front of each ship. The ballistae crews brought up the massive iron bolts from below and stacked them, ready for use.

The approaching ships were closing. I could make out the sails. Even the oars became visible. The tension rose inside me. We loosened our swords in our scabbards and adjusted our armour. We removed the leather covers from our scuta, the large oblong shields that were a legionary's best friend. They were a protection for most of the body at one time. Pila were handed out, two to a man. We did not know whether they could be used effectively at sea.

There was a shout from one of the seamen, who kept watch from the cabin roof.

'Ships! Ships approaching from the port side!'

I glanced over my left shoulder. To my horror, I saw four more ships. They emerged from a sheltered headland where they had clearly been hiding in a cove. They were sleeker and narrower than the Roman ships and had two banks of oars. I recognised the ships immediately as the same as the one that Junius and I had been imprisoned on only months before. I made up my mind then that I would rather die than let them capture me again to feel the lash on my back while I slowly died from exhaustion and hunger.

The corsair's ships split into two groups of two. The left-hand pair headed for our ship at the front of our little convoy. Each of the remaining two selected one of the other Roman ships. There was a terrifying feel to the way the corsair's ships cut through the waves. Their oars were in perfect unison. It was almost as if they pulled those oars pulled mechanically, for such was the precision of the rowing.

The distant ships continued to approach fast. It was clear we were caught in a trap. We were vastly outnumbered and I had a sense of passive helplessness as the two corsair ships approached. The first was heading to the front of our bireme. The second was clearly on a collision course, with an intention of ramming our ship. The corsair ship was only two oars length away, when the captain slewed our ship to the left. The ramming ship failed to make contact. The forward of the two attackers however was now close to the starboard side and within grappling range.

They threw large, roped, triple hooks and used them to pull the two ships together. The sound of cracking and splintering oars filled the air, as the two hulls became one, married like dovetailed planks. Our ballistae fired but each bolt took precious time to reload so only two rounds each were loosed into the gathered corsairs on the decks.

Meridius stood on the deck with his now assembled half century of men as Junius and I formed up in our ranks. We had donned our helmets, grasped our shields and we all stood in four ranks of ten facing the starboard side of the ship. There was no Centurion aboard and we relied on the Optio to take his place.

The deck of the corsair ship was full of men. They waved curved swords and screamed. They were ready to board. It seemed a long time before the two ships drew close enough together for the first corsairs to jump the gap.

'Stay formed up and use your training,' shouted Meridius above the screaming and grinding.

We stood shield to shield with our short gladii ready as the first corsairs ran across the deck. A short stocky man came straight for me. He raised his sword above his head as he ran. He swung his weapon downwards. There was no particular skill, straight at my head. I raised my shield. It caught the blow, creating a dent in the top edge.

I stabbed forward. I struck him in the throat. The blood spurted over his leather jerkin for they had no armour. As he fell, I realised there was no time to ponder my kill. Two more replaced the man within seconds.

Discipline clicked in. Like the components of a mechanism. Raise the shield, push forward, stab with the sword. When your man is down, stab the man to your right. Then start again. It was automatic to us Romans. The hours of weapons drill made each movement a reflex. We could continue in this fashion for hours. It was what we were there to do. It was our only real function and we did it efficiently.

Waves of corsairs. They rushed at the line of shields. Each time the result was the same. Side by side, we thrust our shields together. We stabbed with our blades. Over and over again. The deck was slick with blood and urine, until we were even struggling to keep our feet, on the slippery planks. The bodies began to pile up. The attackers were climbing over the corpses of their comrades. The Roman line remained unbroken.

At the flanks, the corsairs had also attacked. Their lines were longer than the ten-man formation, but they fared no better. The Roman shield wall was almost impenetrable to them. We were calm and mute. This was work to us. It was no cause for anything but silent, determined action.

A grinding sound suddenly interrupted the fight. The whole ship quaked and shook. I realised that the second corsair vessel had come about, as I recovered my footing. The corsair ship had approached from the other side and had either rammed or come alongside hard. I had no time to look. A tall bearded man, who snarled as he tried to stab with his curved sword, faced me. I parried easily and pushed my shield forwards. The man stepped back, but with Roman discipline, I remained in the line. To break the line was to be replaced by the man behind and become separated. I smiled at my opponent, who quickly became frenzied in his attack. He raised his sword and brought it down. A rapid, rabid succession of strokes. He was trying to bring down my shield, but to no avail. I saw my opportunity. In the heat of the moment, I half stepped forwards very fast. I felt my sword penetrate his midriff, I twisted the blade and withdrew it. A gush of blood jetted from the wound. As the man fell, I stepped back.

'Don't step forwards again,' shouted Junius, he had realised that his side had been exposed. I heard my friend and smiled for I knew the truth of it.

The two rear ranks turned. There were now two lines, two deep, fighting back to back. Blood ran across the deck and made the footing difficult, but the iron studs in the soles of our sandals kept us stable. Meridius stood back to back with his Optio on my right. Our small Roman force was now beset on all sides. There must have been a hundred corsairs encircling us and Romans began to fall, the line slowly shrinking.

Half a dozen sailors armed with swords and small shields were defending the hatch that led to the lower deck, but they were hard pressed too. Men screamed; the deck stank of blood, death and offal. The little battle progressed in this fashion for what seemed to me to be an age.

Then with an incomprehensible suddenness, madness took me. The movements blurred. My sword arm felt like steel. My head filled with a clarity I had never felt before. I moved mechanically and read my opponents as if I knew their every pending movement. Push, cut, thrust, was all there was in the world. Men fell before me. They clutched at wounds in throat and groin and chest. Blood flowed. Men screamed screams of death and pain. Battle-rage, tireless, bloody, noisy battle-rage consumed me.

Still the corsairs ringed our small group. Our numbers shrank all the time until only a handful of us remained. Junius, Meridius, and I, grim faced and bloody, were among them.

Then Junius slipped on a blood slick. He was down. Two corsairs seeing the big Roman fall, stabbed in his direction simultaneously. Meridius warded off one blow with his sword, the other with his shield but too late. One of the blows had landed. A slashing, cutting blow that laid open Junius' scalp to the bone. Meridius felled the man with a cut to the throat. The man fell away turning, staggering and bloody.

Meridius exposed his side then. The first corsair, hungry for a kill, thrust his blade forward. He pierced the Tribune's chest in the side beneath the armpit. Blood ran from the wound but Meridius seemed to feel nothing. He turned as the corsair withdrew the blade and he snarled. He felled his attacker with a single forward cut to the throat. His knees began to tremble and he fell to one knee, still fighting with sword and shield.

I stepped to his side fending off blows and thrusting with my gladius. Junius had recovered his footing and was battling next to me, blood flowing from his head wound obscuring his vision on the right. We exchanged sides.

We survivors stood back to back, a handful only remaining. They had reduced us to no more than a quarter of our strength. The corsairs paused; they had now a respect for the Roman shields and armour. It was borne of the deaths that littered the decks. They were pulling bodies away so they could renew their attack.

It was then that a certainty came to me. The ship juddered and shook. More ships, the ones sighted first, had come. They grappled alongside the corsair's ships. I knew then, fresh fighters spelled the end and I was determined I would not be captured alive again. I gripped my sword and shield, ready for death.
Chapter XII

"Courage conquers all things, it even gives strength to the body" - Ovid

We had propped Meridius against the masthead. As the fighting raged, I saw him cough blood that sprayed across his chest with almost every breath. His face was a ghastly pale and his eyes rolled periodically as he fought to remain conscious.

Junius and I stood with eight others, holding our shields up, encircling our Tribune. We were determined to protect Meridius. The howling mob of corsairs had fallen back. They grinned with savage glee. They knew that the end was at last approaching. They closed slowly, savouring the moment. I could see their eyes, wide and wild as they readied themselves to finish these arrogant, hated Romans.

The first corsair raised his sword. Ready to rush forward, he hesitated. We heard a cry of dismay was behind him. I looked beyond the line of attackers and a savage smile began to form slowly upon my blood-encrusted lips. I felt like cheering, laughing aloud.

Instead of the corsair's reinforcements, the two newly arrived ships that had and tied to the corsairs ships, contained armed men. Not just armed men, but Roman legionaries. They had now discarded grey cloaks and revealed the red tunics and breastplates of the Roman legionary marines. They donned their helmets and their officer's horsehair plumes almost glowed red to my eyes in the afternoon light.

With a quiet and determined tread, they pushed forward and the killers became the defenders, now outnumbered themselves, as the small Roman contingent had been only moments before. The front line of the marines advanced slowly, they were thrusting, stabbing and killing. They advanced with the honed skill and silent order that was the core of their training, stepping over the dead and dying, in an inexorable advance. Almost all the corsairs surrounding us had now turned and were facing the new enemy. With aching limbs and bloody arms and faces, we advanced and attacked the enemy from behind.

We killed in a frenzy. We fell on the backs of the corsairs. They found themselves beset now on both sides. Blood ran again across the deck, seeping down through the planks and dripping to the oars that swung ownerless, at the benches below-decks.

It was a short fight. The new Romans were fresh and well armed. They stepped over bodies and dying men as they advanced, first across the deck of the corsair's ship and then onto the blood washed Roman bireme. The corsairs threw down their weapons and sued for mercy. We had no inclination to spare them. We were stung by Meridius lying breathing his last behind us and by our dead comrades. We slaughtered man after man with no feelings of remorse, devoid of compassion.

The feelings that I had experienced after killing my first man, seemed to me to be a world away, a bagatelle, compared to the rage I felt and my wish for vengeance. I took one man's head with a right to left swing. I returned the blade across the throat of another. I reversed my blade. I stabbed a third through neck, and kicked one man to the ground as I did so. I turned and two unarmed men knelt before me. I had no feelings. I was a killing mechanically and was powerless to stop. Man after man fell to my blood-rage until their blood covered me. I was bathed in it and it ran down my face and arms. I rejoiced in death, revelled in the sheer brutal violence. Blood consumed me, drove me.

When there were no more within reach, I turned to continue my executioner's task but Junius grabbed me by the shoulder to hold me back.

'Aulus!' he shouted, 'Aulus, it's all done. There's no point in killing them, they've stopped fighting!'

I growled a guttural, animal sound and then stood. Slowly, as if pushed down by some unseen hand, my blade began to sink and the blood ran down it, dripping crimson to the bodies at my feet. I stood still, breathing hard. My head throbbed. I looked around me at the twisted, mutilated bodies and I smiled. It may seem hard to understand why I smiled, for it was a scene of such carnage that my wildest dreams could not have conjured up such a picture. It was an image of butchery and destruction of unearthly proportions. All humanity and gentle emotion was inaccessible and buried deep inside.

An animal rage lurks within us all. It appears and takes us in battle. It carries us on to do things that we cannot control. It has always been so, for are we not beasts in our deepest core? Do we not thirst for blood beneath this civilised veneer? Look to the arena, do you not hear the cries, the screams of delight when blood is spilled! It was so for me then. It consumed me and washed me. Blood.

Then quiet.

Then calm.

A return of the man and a consciousness of what we had done. I was shaking then. I felt nauseated and my head swam. I could have lain down on that deck and closed my eyes in weariness, in sorrow. My feelings soared and fell, but returned inevitably to the reality of the present.

We turned to our Tribune. He was breathing in short shallow rasps, too weak even to cough, as the blood welled up in his throat making bubbles of red froth appear at his lips. As I knelt beside him, our eyes met briefly. The dying man tried to speak. His lips moved but little breath came out. I leaned closer and heard the faintest sound of his voice against the background of the lapping waves and the occasional sound of voices.

'Must die,' I heard.

I frowned uncomprehending. Meridius cast his eyes once more at mine and tried to speak again.

'Traitor must die. Avenge me!' a whisper this time.

Meridius raised his right hand towards me, closed his eyes and his breathing ceased. As I stood contemplating the body before me, thoughts whirled in my head. Anger burned within me. We had to bring Asinnius to justice; we now had no one who knew that Asinnius was a traitor, unless Meridius had indeed committed himself in writing. I realised also that we had no other proof and if justice were to be done, I would have to take the matter into my own hands.

Junius looked at me.

'He was the best of us you know. For an officer he treated us all like comrades but still kept our respect. A rare man in any army.'

'Yes, I will miss him,' was all I could say through my unutterable weariness, which swept over me now, like the very waves that lapped the nearby rocks.

There were only ten of us left out of a half century of forty men. They had killed our Optio and Meridius lay in a pool of blood surrounded by the bodies of the dead corsairs.

'Where is your officer?'

It was a tall Tribune, a marine commander who spoke.

'Dead,' I said vaguely.

'Stand to attention when you address an officer! Are you wounded?'

I stood then and realised with surprise that I was entirely unscathed. My arms and legs, stiff with weariness dragged me to a vertical position and I stood to attention before this new officer.

'I am sorry we took so long to come, but if you hadn't fled from us we would have joined you much earlier.'

'We did not know who you were. We thought you were the corsairs.'

'Don't be stupid man; Meridius arranged this weeks ago. The plan was for him to light a fire and make a signal for us to know that you were leaving. We had to keep our distance or the corsairs would have known we were here in strength. I think Meridius purposely wanted to engage the enemy first, to trap them and maybe that was why he fled.'

'I suppose we will never know now.'

'No, but you and these men have fought well all the same and Meridius I am sure, would have been proud of you. Name?'

'Veridius Scapula, sir,' I said as I tried to maintain some semblance of standing straight. My aching limbs however, were trembling.

'Yes, he mentioned you. You and your companions will go aboard my ship and you can rest. My men will clear up the mess on these ships. I want a report from you by this evening. That is all.'

I saluted and turned, aware that he had dismissed me. All I wanted was to rest and as my comrades and I crossed the ships, we stumbled on bodies and slipped in the gore that littered the decks. We had not the energy to rifle the bodies as soldiers usually did after the end of a battle and we eventually sank to the deck on the far side of the newly arrived bireme.

Junius had bound a strip of his tunic across his scalp to hold the edges of his wound together, but was too exhausted to seek medical help. We sat propped against the gunwales and watched the clearing-up process. Our men forced the captured corsairs to discard their comrades' bodies overboard and the survivors, numbering only thirty or so, were herded below decks to man the oars, for no wind had risen. It began to rain and I was glad of it, for it washed the blood from my face and arms.

We spoke little, only grateful for the fact that we still lived and that the fighting had ceased. A man next to me wept and shook. I put a hand on his arm and he looked at me with wild eyes. He had faced death and survived and maybe that should have been enough, but it was not. I felt like weeping too and I began to understand then. I had become the soldier that I would remain all my life. It was rebirth. From child to man and from man to killer.

I realised how I had changed. I had started in the legion raw, unskilled and to my mind ignorant. In such a short time, I had learned skills, applied them and become a true soldier. I had also learned respect for my betters, and learned that it was better to kill than to die and I knew I would never feel the innocence of youth again.

I lapsed into thoughts of revenge. Asinnius had to pay, for I knew he was the one who had alerted the corsairs to the treasure and the Roman reclamation of it. Meridius knew it and I would not be deaf to his dying words. Revenge. It stirred my mind as no other thought.

Chapter XIII

"Nothing more detestable does the earth produce than an ungrateful man"- Ausonius

It was late afternoon when the ships docked in the great harbour of Sinope. A dark grey cloudy sky betrayed a brewing storm and I was relieved when the moorings were hitched. It had rained for most of the return journey and the damp and discomfort of the sea voyage had made me glum.

The ship's surgeon had sutured Junius' scalp wound and a greased cloth covered his head to keep it dry under the hood of his cloak. The wound had almost healed already. The surgeon had said that the rich blood supply of the scalp meant that although such wounds bleed heavily, they also heal quickly and Junius was in good spirits as a result.

As we stepped ashore, the ground beneath us seemed to move up and down for we had become so used to the rocking movement of the ship.

'Well, what do we do now?' Junius said.

'Now? We have to report to headquarters. With Meridius dead, the next in command is the Centurion and Asinnius can't be trusted. There must be someone we can talk to. I wish Asinnius could be tried for his treason.'

'Aulus, you know that will never happen. We have no proof and it is only our word against his.'

'Our century now consists only of twenty-five men. All the rest died on the ships. Pity Asinnius wasn't one of them. I suppose they will top us up from the recruits who arrived during the summer.'

'I can't say I find that prospect too reassuring. They have no experience of anything.'

'Worse still, that Marcus Mettius fellow I'm so fond of is their Tribune.'

'Well we're only soldiers and we have no say in the matter. Take the rough with the smooth I guess.'

As we walked through the streets towards the Temple of Athena, the locals stared. Two soldiers, dirty, unkempt, still with bloodstains on their tunics and one with a bandaged head was not a common sight in the streets of Sinope. The two of us suddenly realised that we would need to clean up before they made our report. We both assumed that our special duty status would now be lifted and we would return to the usual humdrum life of drills and marches, but neither of us complained, for it was the life we had become accustomed to now.

I was acutely aware that the man I was becoming was visible to the eyes of the casual observers in the street, for they crossed ahead of us as we approached and avoided looking either of this grim pair in the face.

We changed direction and went to our billet to make ourselves presentable. Polymecles greeted us as if we were long-lost friends, much to our amusement.

'My Roman heroes! You have returned to grace my humble house with your illustrious presence. I praise the Gods for they have brought you both back safe and sound.'

He looked at Junius' bandaged head, clucked, and wagged his head from side to side.

'Lord Junius, have you been injured, I must summon my physician at once. This is terrible news! Please sit down and do not strain yourself. I will fetch wine and fruit for you. Will you dine before the doctor comes or after?'

'Polymecles,' Junius said trying to slow the pace of the welcome, 'we have no money, and we just need to eat and rest. I don't need a doctor, it was just a cut on my head and the surgeon on the ship has sewn it together. It will heal easily. Now please don't cause a fuss!'

'How can you think my concern is just for money? I am a loyal servant of Rome and you are my dear friends! Money is not everything, even to me!'

We half believed him but we both knew that although today we were lords in Polymecles' eyes, it would take only a small military setback for him to regard us as enemies.

He provided us with food, once we had changed clothes and washed. We began to feel a little more human. The wine was welcome, but Junius' comment about not having money, was enough to reduce the quality of the wine to barely drinkable. Neither of us cared, for the exhaustion engendered by the previous weeks, worked a soporific charm on us both and we ended the evening early.

* * *

The unexpected summons had disconcerted us both. Neither Junius nor I thought that the Commander of the Asiatic Armies might call us to report to him personally. We stood in the large airy room dwarfed by the high ceilings and stone pillars. In front of us was a desk of marble inlaid with brass in designs reminiscent of leaves and branches. On the desk lay papyrus scrolls and a sword. Opposite us, seated at the desk was Lucullus himself. He regarded us with a frown.

'Meridius is dead I am told, but no one seems to have seen him fall.'

He paused then and looked up at us. He frowned again and slammed his clenched fist on the desk.

'By Zeus! I want to know what happened!'

'We were both there when it happened sir.'

'But you didn't think it was important enough to report to me? One of my most valuable officers is killed on a planned clandestine mission and no one takes the trouble to tell me? Well?'

'I'm sorry, sir,' I said, quaking inside, 'we thought we should get cleaned up before reporting and by the time we had done that it was late and we didn't want to disturb...' my whimpering voice tailed away as I looked at Lucullus.

'It never occurred to you that Meridius was working for me?'

'We weren't told that sir. He did say he was reporting to you in writing. We're only plain soldiers of the line sir.'

We were clearly too overawed to make sense and the General knew it. Lucullus had seats brought for us and dismissed his servants and orderlies.

'Look, Meridius did communicate with me. He told me there was a traitor in the city and he told me that you two were the only men around him he trusted. He baited the trap for the corsairs and he was sure the traitor would reveal himself if the corsairs attacked. Unfortunately, they killed him and I am now none the wiser. I have to have that spy because we are about to start a war with Armenia. I can't afford for there to be any leakage of my plans, however slight. I don't even want the Senate to know.'

'You can rely on us sir,' Junius said, 'Meridius was a great man and a good commander and we have every wish to be revenged upon his enemies.'

'Tell me what you know,' Lucullus said.

We told the General the entire story. He prompted us at times and asked questions but at the end seemed satisfied.

'So Meridius directed you to get evidence against this Centurion?'

'Yes sir, the only person we knew we could trust was Meridius. Asinnius thinks we are in league with him and Meridius encouraged us to string him along.'

'I am very impressed with how you have both acquitted yourselves in this matter, especially the fight on the bireme. I will have a word with your Legate and we will see how best to reward you. In the meantime, I want you to find out how this Asinnius gets his information out of Sinope and who his contacts are. I need to know what else he knows. I need to you to find out if he has contacts in Armenia or spies going home to Rome. When you know that, I want you to kill him. Don't worry about any repercussions. I will personally see to it that you are not impeached in any way. The important thing is that the information ceases to flow from our army.'

'Do we rejoin our century now?' asked Junius.

'Yes, I think the less you do to attract attention the better. I need that information.'

We left the building wondering how best to achieve what had been demanded of us. Neither of us felt we had the skill for clandestine and surreptitious investigation and we half suspected that we had been picked because we were regarded as expendable.

As we left the temple, a fat Centurion greeted us almost immediately. The plump man was sweating and waving away a fly that buzzed around his helmet.

'Veridius?' he said peremptorily.

'Sir!' I said standing to attention.

'I want a quiet word with you, step this way. Not you!' he indicated Junius with his hand.

We walked to the far side of the square and Junius waited outside the temple.

'It's a delicate matter,' Bassus said, 'I have been asked to be a go-between by a friend.'

'Oh?' I said, puzzled.

'Yes, my friend wants something that you have and he is willing to pay most generously for it as a matter of fact.'

'What might that be sir?'

'That amulet that hangs around your neck, as it happens. I realise you may be attached to it so I can offer quite a generous sum of money for it. My friend is a collector and it just happens to be the type of jewellery he is interested in.'

'I don't think I want to sell it thank you.'

'I realise that these things can have a sentimental value but I can make your fortune, if you just let me.'

'I can't sell it, it was a last gift from my dead father and it means more to me than money.'

'Well that may be a problem you know, my friend is a powerful man and wealthy. If he wants the amulet he will get it, is that clear?'

'There's nothing you can do to get it, I won't sell it even for five hundred sestertii and that is final.'

'Look, let's be reasonable. If you don't sell it to me, it will be the cause of a whole heap of trouble to you.

My eyes narrowed perceptibly.

'You can tell Marcus that I won't part with the amulet and if he tries to get it by force I am ready for him.'

'Marcus who? I don't know who you are talking about, but my friend will receive the news badly. I urge you to give up the amulet and all will be well. I can offer a thousand sestertii for it. You would be a rich man and you could buy your way out of this legion and farm or whatever takes you fancy.'

'Marcus and his family have tried to get it before and they failed. Do you really think I would sell it to you?

'Look laddie, you have something that my boss, er, friend wants and you will give it up or you may find that you have no choice.'

'Am I dismissed?' I asked, barely containing my anger.

'Yes all right. You're in a whole pile of shit though.'

I walked across the square with a look of fury on my face and joined my friend.

'What did fatty want?' Junius said.

'He was a messenger from my cousin Marcus and he wanted to buy my amulet. I told him no and I think I need to watch my back from now on.'

'I'll watch your back; you look straight ahead and watch for the pitfalls! What does he want it for anyway?'

'I told you, it contains the map to hidden deeds of some property of which I don't even know the whereabouts.'

'Valuable property?'

'How would I know? I haven't ever been there.'

'No, but you must have some idea. These people seem happy to kill for the deeds, it must be very valuable.'

'Not a clue, I'm afraid.'

'No matter, I'll still watch your back.'

'Asinnius is a more pressing problem.'

'The General seems happy to let us dispose of him. I'm surprised,' Junius said.

'Don't be. The man is a traitor and since we know it and Lucullus knows it, he'll be executed anyway. I want revenge. The last words on Meridius' lips begged for me to avenge him. I will do it for honour's sake.'

'Don't tell me, for the glory of Rome and all that?'

We shoved at each other and laughed, as if laughing would make the situation better. We walked to the barracks where we hoped to find Asinnius, on the off chance of learning more about his contacts. The streets were becoming busy again and the grey sky shed a warm rain on us as we walked. Junius bought some skewered meat and ate as we walked and we formulated a plan.

We enquired after the Centurion at the Ninth Legion barracks, a newly built low building at the western end of the city centre. Asinnius was not there, so we entered the second cohort section, where our comrades in arms greeted us. Titus, a tall, dark, hairy, bear of a man threw a gentle punch at Junius.

'Hey watch it!' Junius said, ducking the punch.

'You fellows are the lucky ones. How did you manage to get permission to stay billeted in the city when we all got transferred here?'

'We had some special duties, but they've ended now, so we're back now in the arms of the legion!' I said.

'What are you lot up to?' Junius said.

'We've been told to wait here for a new Optio and a group of recruits. The Legate himself will be appointing a Tribune to replace Meridius so we get a change of commander too,' Titus said.

The morning passed slowly. The twenty-three men who survived in the first century of the second cohort had little to do. Asinnius failed to appear and the waiting began to become tedious. After our midday meal, our Centurion appeared with a smile on his face leading fifty new men in a column.

'Form up you scum! We have some changes to make.'

The century was now almost complete with just short of eighty men but no Optio, the second-in-command to the Centurion.

'I have an announcement to make! Aulus Veridius and Junius Sinna you are both to work as Decurions for the newly reconstituted first century. Congratulations!'

Junius and I stepped forward and each of us was positioned towards the rear of the century. We were both smiling and I mentally offered a prayer to the goddess Fortuna for my good luck. It meant a substantial increase in pay. When the drill had finished, we went to see Asinnius.

'You might be wondering why you were both promoted in this way.'

'Yes sir,' I said.

'It seems,' Asinnius said, 'that you both fought well on the ships and the Legate passed instructions personally that you both get promoted. For my part, you'll be more useful to me now, so I will allow you both to stay in your billet for the time being. It will allow more freedom of movement and I may have some jobs for you in the coming months.'

'Yes sir.'

'By the way, it was a shame the corsairs failed in their attempt. They blame me for the failure and we will need to do something to impress them or they may be after all three of us.'

'I may be able to get some news of a shipment of weapons coming in. The Tribune of the fifth cohort is after all, my cousin. I still think he will want to meet the corsairs though'

Asinnius smiled and nodded as if he sympathised.

'All right, try to get some information from him if you can. As for meeting my contacts, well he can forget it. I keep things close.'

'What if he insists? He's a nosey bugger and I can tell you now he won't shift with the information unless we cut him in big style and that means he will want to be involved.'

'Well, maybe you're right. I'll talk to my contacts and you, in the meantime, talk to your cousin.

As Asinnius left, I caught a glimpse of Bassus, standing on a street corner watching us. I turned towards the plump Centurion, smiled, and then waved in a friendly fashion.

Bassus grimaced and walked away, clearly irritated.

'That fat Centurion wants my amulet,' I said, 'He is working for Marcus Mettius and seems determined to get it whatever the outcome. I wonder if it's valuable after all. I can't see them going to so much trouble over a bit of land that Marcus could afford to buy easily. There must be something special about it.'

'Have you only just realised?' Junius said, 'If they really did kill your parents for it and Marcus is still pursuing you for it then it must be a very valuable piece of land. Maybe it's political. Had you thought of that?'

'Political? What do you mean?'

'I mean that if for example it might be occupied by a political faction and another wants the deeds so they can throw out their rivals, something of that nature.'

'I can't imagine how that would work. I overheard Marcus' father arguing with mine and he said Sulla wanted the land for his veterans. If Sulla wanted it, he could have taken it by decree and he could have had the deed declared void, with no questions asked. No, I think Sulla was never involved and it is the Mettius family who want the land.'

'Maybe you're right. Let's go eat.'

'Bit early for eating isn't it?'

'Early enough for drinking though. I must say Aripele is very much on my mind at the moment.'

'You only ever think of wine and women!'

'No, sometimes I think about fighting and having a laugh. It's just that right now, I haven't seen that girl for a long time and I am sure she is lonely without me. Maybe she's missing me.'

'Whores don't miss their customers. They miss the cash.'

'This girl is different, she doesn't always ask for money, so maybe she really likes me.'

'In your dreams, my friend. She knows how to hook you. What did you say to me all those months ago? It's always been the same; women only want something from you? Something like that.'

'Aulus, cut it out, I really like Aripele and I think she likes me, so shut up!'

Although we were both smiling, I detected an irritation in my friend's voice and desisted from further provocation. It was a wisdom borne of long months of propinquity.

'All right, we go drink some wine, then we eat and then you can see your young lady. How about that?'

'It's a deal!' Junius slapped me on the back and we walked to the house of Polymecles.

'By the way, what are you doing involving Mettius in the corsair business? I think you've finally lost your reason,' Junius said.

'Wait and see. The easiest way to keep track of an idiot who is following you is to have him at your side!'

'You're mad!'

'Yes, but at least I'm handsome, which is more than you can say country boy!'

We laughed then as we always did. The seriousness of our situation always seemed far off when we laughed.
Chapter XIV

"An alliance with a powerful person is never safe." - Phaedrus

It was a dark evening when I set off from the palace to return to the house of Polymecles. I was not expecting any violence from anyone. It was late, the sky overcast and a little drizzle had begun to fall. There was a damp smell in the air. Hypsicratea had invited me to her palace I think, to pass the time. I had been seeing a good deal of her and although I had amorous feelings, I realised quite well that she did not.

We spent those evenings talking and laughing in that unusual friendship that had grown between us. She was a Queen of a conquered nation and I a soldier of the conquering nation, yet we were able to overcome the politics because we enjoyed each other's company. She was bright, beautiful and funny at times. The similarity in our ages may have had something to do with it. Although we had little in common, we learned from each other. She seemed interested in the ordinary life that Romans led, the food, the baths and the taverns. She told me of the history of her nation and the life of Mithradates. I felt I almost knew him in the end, from the detail in which she described him.

There are few enough people in life that one wants to spend time with, but it is a rarity, to find someone who one never becomes tired of listening and talking to. It was so between us. Our evenings often finished very late for we talked and often forgot the time.

On that night, we had parted late and I had drunk my share of an excellent wine and eaten well. Leaving the palace always made me thoughtful. Most of my thoughts were of Hypsicratea and it is a wonder I had enough thought left to put even one foot in front of the other. She occupied my mind to the exclusion of anything else for much of the time in those days.

That night there were hardly any people in the streets, for no one plies their trade in the wet and dark and few people in that part of the world favour walking in the rain even in daytime. It was cold and wet and I was deep in thought.

I stiffened suddenly and stood still and alert. I was almost sure I could hear a soft footfall behind me.

There it was again. I turned fast with my hand on the hilt of my sword. I half expected to be confronted by someone following me but my eyes took in only shadows and mist. My breath condensed in the air and looked like smoke as I realised that I was breathing hard with nervous tension.

I walked on. A wall loomed ahead in the dark to my left. I followed it, knowing I would come to the side gate. I could rouse Polymecles and persuade him to admit me. A torch was set into an alcove in the wall above the entrance doorway.

I heard the sound again. Faint footsteps behind me. I turned quickly. There was certainly no one there. I retraced my steps at a run, keeping a sharp eye for anyone who might be trailing me. I could see no one and after twenty paces or so, I abandoned the search, putting it down to my imagination.

As I turned back, I heard a faint twang from far off to my right and the arrow flew past my right ear audibly. It embedded itself in the wall. I realised that it would have been in my head had it not been for the Goddess Fortuna.

I realised that I was a delicious target to a bowman, stood in the open street as I was. I ran to the entrance, where I could duck into the portico and at least find some cover. A second arrow followed me but my attacker had shot wide and the missile merely disappeared into the distant darkness with a buzz reminiscent of a hornet.

I flattened myself against the door and knocked as hard as I could. It took some moments before Polymecles opened the hatch to look out. He saw no one and was about to close it again when I popped my head across.

'Let me in you Greek half-wit!'

Polymecles unbolted the door.

'Lord Aulus, it is very late at night that you return.'

'Hurry, man!' I said, 'there's someone shooting at me with a bow!'

'But who would do such a thing?' he said as the door swung open. I pushed past him fast but another arrow had already been launched. It missed me and buried itself in the little landlord's shoulder. He fell and lay, breathing fast in the doorway as I tried to shut the door. I took a risk and pulled him inside. I shut the door feeling nervous about exposing myself in such an obvious way. I slammed the door and bolted it.

'Junius!' I bellowed at the top of my voice, 'Junius!'

It took only moments before my friend came and between us, we carried our landlord into the atrium of the tenement. We laid him on the couch despite the blood from his shoulder.

'Dying, I am dying. The end of a good life my lords!'

'You aren't dying, Polymecles,' I said, 'It's only a flesh wound.'

'I always knew that you Romans would be the end of me! Oh alas! The pain!'

We examined the wound. He had been lucky for the arrow had passed through the fold of skin and muscle at the point where his neck joined his torso. It was only a little more than a skin wound. I broke the arrow and pulled it through with no difficulty. The poor little half-Greek screamed but it must have been painful so we treated him with forbearance.

'Polymecles, you need a doctor to make sure the wound is clean and will heal. Where can we get one?'

'My personal physician lives in the adjoining tenement, but with murderers abroad we cannot rouse him now.'

'No you are right, but in the morning we will get him for you.'

'Who would do such a terrible thing?' asked Polymecles.

'I don't know, but I thought I was being followed the other day. It won't be the corsairs, maybe it is to do with the amulet,' I said thoughtfully.

'Amulet? What is that?' Polymecles said in a plaintiff voice.

'Never mind,' I said.

'It's bound to concern that Bassus fellow,' Junius said.

'Yes, maybe Marcus is getting serious. His father killed for it and now he seems to be doing the same.'

'We will all be killed!' wailed Polymecles.

'We should kill him first.'

'Don't be silly, if there was even a suspicion that we were involved in murdering a Centurion they would torture us as well as crucify us. Besides, we can't be certain it was Bassus. I don't think he would have been nimble enough to avoid me anyway.'

'A Centurion! I knew it! The Romans will be the death of us all!' our frightened landlord interjected in the background.

'True. One of us will have to sit up with our little friend here or no one will get any rest.'

'Straws?' I suggested.

'All right but no cheating now, I need my beauty sleep you know, Aripele is coming tomorrow afternoon, and I'll need all my energy.'

'We have to pay Marcus a visit tomorrow. Maybe we can get him killed by the corsairs,' I said hopefully.

Of course, I drew the short straw and had the pleasure of Polymecles' company for the rest of the night. He snored and occupied the only couch.

* * *

A winter sun was shining intermittently from a cloudy sky as Junius and I crossed the courtyard of the new barracks. The courtyard was cobbled but with fine small cobbles. There was a group of legionaries on a punishment parade drilling patiently at the far end of the square. Their iron-studded sandals mad a combined slapping and crunching sound on the cobbles, a noise that was only heard from military issue sandals. Old soldiers could recognise the sound from a distance and knew it for what it was.

We walked in a relaxed march and questioned the sentries who stood propping up the guardhouse wall casually. We explained that were looking for the Tribune of the fifth cohort, but it seemed we were too early, for we discovered that Marcus Mettius rarely arrived before midday. The duty sentries directed us to a house near the palace.

'You won't get much joy out of him this time of day,' one of them smirked, 'I heard he's just gone to bed! The parties that go on in that place! Wine women, music. He has a lot of callers at night too, women callers.'

'No, he never surfaces 'til late.' the other said. 'Don't know how the chain of command works with these part-time officers!'

We made our way to the house. The building was a simple two-storey house, unremarkable in most ways but singular in that it had a small garden at the front of the building, which was unusual for a Pontic house. Last year's weeds and dead flowering plants overran the garden. As we neared the portico of the house, we noticed one of Marcus' slaves leaving the building with a pretty, young slave girl. She had wrapped herself in a cloak and had trouble walking straight.

'Must have been quite a party' I said.

'It's all over the legion. He has parties and worse almost every night and I'm told that he imports his own wine like Lucullus. Pity the likes of me and you don't get invited.'

'I hope he's awake. We have a little surprise for him either way.'

I knocked on the door and another slave opened it promptly. He at least was awake.

'Good morning. Can you wake your master for us please? We have an important message from Lucullus himself and we don't want to delay giving it to you master,' I said.

The slave looked at me as if I had descended from Olympus itself.

'I cannot wake him just now, perhaps you could come back later around the midday mealtime, he may have arisen by then.'

'I said that it was important and that is exactly what I meant. Which part of the message didn't you understand? Get him!' This last, was at a volume that would have intimidated anyone let alone a middle-aged slave. Pollux, for that was his name, turned and walked tremulously to Marcus Mettius' chamber and spoke in a low voice from the door.

There was a disgruntled voice from the room and within a few minutes, Marcus appeared wearing a tunic but minus sandals or other clothing and pushed past his slave who still stood uncertainly in the doorway. The frown on his face and the dark half circles beneath his eyes testified to his humour and he looked at us with a glare that would have roasted any other men. He leant on his elbow against the doorpost.

'If this is a joke I'll have you both before the Prefect before you can boil asparagus.'

'My dear cousin, we are simply here to convey a message from the General. If you don't want to hear it we can always go back and tell him you were not receptive to the idea today.' I half turned as if to go but Marcus stopped me.

'No, no! Please. Come in. I just had a late night with the er... accounts. Come in.'

I looked at my cousin. I smiled in a friendly fashion belying my real feelings of anger and disgust.

'Thank you cousin Marcus,' was all I said.

Junius and I followed the slightly unsteady officer into the atrium where he indicated seats. Marcus lay on a couch and rubbed his face with his hands in utter weariness.

'Well what is it?'

'What's what?' Junius said in mock ignorance.

'The message! Are you going to give it to me or not?'

The sun was shining outside despite the winter damp and I could hear a dog barking and growling in the courtyard behind the house.

'Well Marcus, it's like this, our Centurion Asinnius is a traitor. We know this for a variety of reasons which I will not go into but Lucullus has charged Junius and myself with the onerous burden of trying to trap him and find out who his contacts are.'

'Lucullus himself said that to you? I don't believe it. He would have picked an officer. Why should he pick two run-down legionaries? Poppycock!'

'It's true. Asinnius thinks we are in with him for money. He tipped the corsairs off to the location of the treasure that we almost lost at sea. I suggested to Lucullus when he de-briefed us that you would undoubtedly be the man to help and I am sure the General would be very grateful for your help.'

'Well?'

'We have a plan but we need you, for it to be convincing. We need you to tell him of a shipment of arms or other goods that the corsairs would be interested in and arrange to meet their chief. Then we will do the rest. There should be no risk involved and I am sure that Lucullus would be very generous in his rewards if all goes well.'

Marcus looked uncertainly at us. His frown gradually disappeared and he smiled slightly. 'Why did you seek to involve me?'

'You are family and since you have charge of supplies I thought naturally that we could work together. We go back a long way,' I said turning to Junius, who nodded in a serious fashion.

I explained my plan to Marcus and the meeting ended.

As we walked away, Junius said, 'Why involve a man who you hate and who has probably threatened your life already?'

'Because it may get him killed for a start. In addition, he is uniquely place to offer an attractive proposition as we discussed. There is also the benefit that I can keep a close eye on him during all this. He isn't likely to try to kill me if he and I are working on this.'

'True but there are risks in using someone as unreliable as your cousin. He reeks of wine even at this hour.'

'I'm sure that's never been the case for you!'

Junius aimed a playful punch at me and we made for the legion headquarters to try to find our Centurion. A thin rain began to fall and I shuddered involuntarily as drops ran down my back. I looked behind me and was almost sure there was a figure that ducked quickly behind the street corner as my head moved. My thoughts drifted to the night before and the flying arrows in the dark. I said nothing to Junius and tucked the thought away as what it seemed to be, my imagination.

Chapter XV

"Deos fortioribus adesse." (The gods are on the side of the stronger.) - Tacitus

I stood in the alleyway with Junius at my side. My friend's presence was a comfort. I had known few friends in my life and Junius was the only man in this group I trusted. Trust to fight with me, trust to watch my back. I thought about the time struggling to feed myself in the gutters of Rome and my mouth tightened. The legion had taught me self-reliance, how to fight, and the value of my fellow legionaries, but above all, I had learned the value of trust in my friend.

I glanced at the farm-boy. His stature alone would be enough to put off an attacker. Having fought side by side on the Roman bireme, having waited then for death together, we had forged a bond that would not easily be broken, here or ever. I knew I had learned the value of loyalty too. I would die defending my honour, my woman or my livelihood but I would die also for this tall blonde farmer with whom I had fought once and expected to die with.

It was late and an owl hooted continuously in the background. A cloudy sky blotted out the moon and hoary shadows reached out for the five of us as we waited. This time, I wondered if owls were a particularly bad omen in my life, as I recalled the arrows flying on my way back from visiting Hypsicratea.

None of us felt cold, for many winter nights in Rome were colder, but we all wore our red military cloaks. Asinnius was the only one without a helmet and Marcus and Bassus were both dressed in their full armour.

'Are you sure he's coming?' Marcus said looking around at the empty alleyway.

'Yes sir, he said he would be here and he's never let me down before. We must be patient,' Asinnius said.

'Patience be damned! I'm not spending my entire evening just for you to make money, when I could be enjoying myself,' Marcus said irritated and jumpy.

'Asinnius is right sir,' Bassus said, 'to make money one has to be as patient as an Aedile!'

Junius glanced at me and we both smiled, for the simile was appropriate. If we had our way, all three men with us would be before an Aedile with their hands bound.

The sound of a footfall in front of us announced the arrival of the corsairs. Their leader was a big brown-skinned man with a slight limp. He spoke with a Scythian accent and had a habit of playing with his beard as he spoke. I wondered if it was only a means of keeping his hand up ready to draw his sword. Ten or more others accompanied him. They lurked in the background, for the alley was narrow. It is hard to count heads in the dark. One of the corsairs lit a lantern.

'Why here?' the corsair said.

'My companions chose the meeting place, nothing wrong with it,' Asinnius said.

'We usually meet in the tavern. I don't like this alley it smells of a trap.'

'You wanted to meet the officer. He has details of a weapons shipment that is coming in and maybe it will be a worthy cargo.'

'Your information last time was unreliable. Perhaps you are no use to us anymore.'

'Is that why you brought all these men?'

'Only a fool has trust in a traitor. Well, which of you is Mettius?'

Marcus stepped forward and looked the man in the face. He showed no sign of fear and he had a look of arrogance that I thought optimistically, might get him killed. Marcus on the other hand seemed blithely unaware of the danger.

'I am Marcus Mettius Costa. I wanted to meet the people who wanted the information on the cargo to ensure that they can be trusted.'

The corsair looked at Marcus with a quizzical expression. The left side of his face twitched slightly as he did so and any fool could see that he had only a slim hold on his temper.

'Trusted? Trusted! You Roman dog! You dare to question if I can be trusted. I could have killed you at any time since you entered this street. Do you think me blind or stupid?'

'Give up. Which is it?' Marcus said adding fuel to the flames.

My mind drifted to another alleyway and Asinnius' escape, leaving me and Junius to be captured by another group of corsairs. I wondered whether Asinnius would try to betray me a second time but spared little thought to the matter. I knew now to expect nothing from anyone but Junius.

'We aren't here to quarrel. We came only to make a deal,' Asinnius said in as placatory tone as he could muster. He could clearly detect the atmosphere as well as I could.

'Keep out of this,' Marcus said.

'Well?' the corsair said.

'Would you pay to know when and where the next arms shipment is coming in?' asked Marcus, calming down a little. I think the inept way he was dealing with the corsair was only a sign of nervousness for I was sure he could not be so stupid as to risk a fight with five against more than ten.

'We might, we need ballistae, like the ones mounted on the Roman Corvus ships.'

'We have a shipment arriving in a week. I will need a map from you so that I can indicate just where the convoy is going to sail but I want payment in advance,' Marcus said.

'Payment in advance? No chance. We make little enough as it is and we won't pay until we have the shipment in our hands.'

'Then we don't have a deal. How can I be sure you won't just take the shipment and renege on the bargain?'

'You have my word.'

'Not good enough,' Marcus said, 'I want the money first and then the information, or no ballistae.'

The big corsair looked at the Roman. He seemed uncertain for a moment.

'You drive a hard bargain, Roman. How about half in advance and the rest on completion?'

'I would settle for that but I still don't trust you,' Marcus said frowning.

'This one is beginning to annoy me,' the corsair said.

With a suddenness that surprised me, the corsair drew his sword. With lightening speed, he struck a backhanded blow at Marcus. Marcus however, surprised me equally. He drew his sword with frightening speed. He parried the blow. In his left hand, he had a small gladiator's shield. We all had one hidden beneath our cloaks. He thrust it at the corsair with a force that belied his angular frame.

It struck the corsair on the right shoulder. It threw him back towards his comrades as they drew their weapons and advanced. As the corsair fell backwards, he took the weight on his back foot and launched himself towards Marcus. This time, Marcus was not expecting a return and the corsair, short of space to swing his long curved weapon, used the hilt in an uppercut thrust, striking Marcus square on the tip of his outthrust chin.

For a split second a mental picture of Marcus in a similar pose, when we were boys, crossed my mind. He had been taunting and bullying and I had lashed out. For once, it was he, who had landed on the floor. The smile on my lips was short-lived however, for within moments I had plenty to do.

Bassus, who was standing behind Marcus, managed to catch the falling Tribune. He dragged him backwards towards the wall on his right as Junius and Asinnius and I faced the onslaught before us. Fortunately, the alleyway was only broad enough for three men to stand shoulder to shoulder, so the attackers had difficulty utilising their superior numbers.

The alley rang to the sound of swords hammering, thrusting and parrying. Shields flashed as we three Romans defended ourselves.

I faced with two attackers. Both large men. One with a sword and the other with a long handled, double bladed axe. It was a heavy, murderous weapon. He swung it in a ponderous arc at my head. I stepped back. I let the blow pass. It was too heavy a weapon for the corsair to make a quick riposte.

I stabbed with my gladius at the man to my left. I thrust forward with my shield. The shield hit its mark, striking the corsair full in the face. As he raised his sword, my short sword, the ideal weapon in a close combat, leapt forward and stabbed him in the groin. The man went down. The axe man raised his weapon for his second strike at my head. In doing so, he exposed his midriff. It was an easy target. He died with a scream of pain and anguish.

Junius had fared well and stood with one dead corsair before him and another thrusting at him with a sword. Asinnius was struggling with the corsair leader and backing away.

It happened quickly. Asinnius turned suddenly and lashed out at me. The corsair leader turned too and attacked. Asinnius and the leader were both at me in a flash. I stepped back desperately and found Junius by my side. We parried and stabbed with a speed of lightning proportions as Bassus dragged the still unconscious Marcus up the alley.

The fight continued for brief moments only. Junius and I found ourselves stepping backwards slowly. Two of us holding back four times our number. Where was Bassus? No time to look.

Cut, thrust, parry, push with the shield. Wait for the next man. The corsairs' numbers were beginning to tell. I lost sight of Asinnius and slipped on the cobbles as I backed away. My left foot flew upwards as I fell.

I lay on my back momentarily. A curved blade rang on the stones beneath me as I shifted my head to the left avoiding the inevitable.

I looked up. I kicked. I swiftly stabbed sideways at a knee. The sword's owner buckled before me. I tried to rise. Another corsair came shouting and swinging at me.

I tried to parry, to get to my feet. I missed the parry altogether. My opponent's blade struck home, scraping across my helmet's cheek-guard, and hitting my right shoulder.

It was a slicing, glancing blow. The pain arced through my arm and I dropped my sword. I rolled. I scrambled to my feet and armed only with my little bronze shield, tried to defend myself.

There were three men with swords all advancing towards me. One of them was Asinnius. The traitor had revealed himself at last. I swallowed and thought of the amulet. Marcus might get it now.

I countered the first blow, but the burning pain in my shoulder slowed me down. The other two blows landed, one with a ringing sound upon my helmet. The other stabbed into my breastplate. I fell again.

For a moment, I saw little apart from golden sparks flying around my visual fields. Fast, I pushed the helmet up, for it had descended to obscure my vision.

As I looked up, the corsair who had hit me first, stood above me with his sword pointed downwards aiming at my throat. Another moment and all would be dark and cold.

Chapter XVI

"Things are not always as they seem; the first appearance deceives many." - Phaedrus

Time slowed in my mind. A strange fascination occupied me as I regarded the blade poised above me. I knew I would fight to the last. I also knew that this time my assailant could not miss. I braced myself to try to deflect the blow.

The next thing to happen made me stare with surprise, despite the battle-din of Junius fighting. A blade tip appeared out of thin air above me and it pierced the man's chest. The poised blade faltered. It fell from the corsair's grasp. A sandaled foot stepped across me.

I rolled to one side and managed to stand upright and still. I was holding my little shield. All around me, men fought. I suddenly realised that my trap had sprung. The two contubernia that Junius and I commanded, each consisting of eight men, had finally come as arranged. They had been waiting for the fight to begin and had delayed only for moments after the fight had started, even though to us it seemed to take so long.

Moments later, the skirmish had finished, all the corsairs lay dead or dying, and I looked around for Asinnius. I caught sight of my Centurion backing away, further up the alley. I paused only long enough to pick up my sword, and gave chase. Asinnius saw me coming, turned, and ran. He realised that I was not going to be taken in by any lies or threats this time. He had decided discretion was advisable. He ran fast but for me, the exertions of the fight had taken their toll.

Blood ran down my arm from the wound in my shoulder, dripping and spraying from my wrist as I ran. My breath rasped. I gripped my drawn sword hard for my arm felt strangely weak. I ran and heard footsteps behind me as some of my contubernium followed, but their footsteps began to fade as I turned corners and followed my prey through the streets of Sinope.

I came to a courtyard walled by houses with steps at the far end and glimpsed my target as his red cloak whisked around the corner at the top of the stairway. I ran up the steps two at a time for fear of losing my quarry. As I rounded the corner at the top, Asinnius was waiting and he planted a kick with his left foot that caught me at chest level and I fell backwards. It was not a bad fall and I managed to clutch at a climbing plant on my right. The pain lanced through my shoulder as I did so.

I regained my balance and held my sword out in front of me as I climbed the stairs again. For a moment, there was no sign of my adversary. I stood still and listened. A dog barked. The sound of nailed sandals slapping on the cobbles came to me and I was off, in the direction of the sound.

I rounded another corner and the Centurion was facing me in a blind alleyway. They had built Sinope like a warren and without an intimate knowledge of the streets such blind lanes were a constant source of frustration.

Asinnius was breathing hard as he slowly stepped forwards. A fight was inevitable now and both of us took the opportunity to recover our breath as we weighed each other up. Asinnius was unscathed but clearly not as fit as I was. The shoulder wound I knew would slow me down, but I still had my little shield and Asinnius had discarded his.

'We don't have to do this you know.'

'We do, believe me,' I said, 'It was your treachery that killed Meridius and I swore to him he would be avenged.'

'Look, there's plenty of money for both of us if we don't fight.'

We were almost crouched and leaning forwards on the balls of our feet. Asinnius' eyes moved quickly looking for an opening. I was in no hurry. I knew that the longer this part of the game continued, the more rested I would be, but so would my opponent. I knew also that I would need to produce something extraordinary, considering my wound and the skill that I knew Asinnius had. Had I not been taught my own swordsmanship at first, from this man?

Interrupting my silent ruminations, Asinnius attacked first. He feinted with the sword tip to his right and as I used my shield, he changed direction and with a backhand slash of his blade went for the injured shoulder. I was fast even with a weakened shoulder and managed to parry. I stepped forward with my left foot and struck hard with the little bronze shield. I hit him on the right shoulder. Asinnius was temporarily unbalanced and stumbled to his left.

I stepped round my opponent. My left foot went forward and my right foot pivoted clockwise in a full circle. When it hit the ground, I allowed my blade to follow hoping to take the Centurion from behind. My shoulder however seemed weakest in a backhand. I cried out in pain as I struck.

All the blow did was to produce a small cut on the back of Asinnius' left shoulder. It was a nothing to the tough Centurion, who by reflex, stabbed back and down with his sword. I felt an almost unbearable burning pain radiate down the front and outside of my right thigh. I realised I had been stabbed in the groin.

It was a classic gladiator's killing blow. I felt blood run down into my grieve but my leg held. I stood and faced Asinnius with the determination of a man who saw death staring him in the face. The Centurion merely stumbled forward and turned, this time with his back to the alley's entrance, arms outstretched before him. There was a look of fury upon his face.

I knew Asinnius might run. I attacked again with a sense of urgency. This time I used both shield and sword. I knew I was losing blood. I had to act quickly before I became too weak to fight.

I stepped forward. Asinnius feinted to his left. Suddenly he knelt at my left side, lunging with the gladius at my left knee. He was very fast.

Asinnius himself had taught me that trick. It only worked if the opponent was untrained in countering it. I raised my left foot high and the sole of my sandal deflected the blade. I twisted and bent to my left and down. I stabbed with the gladius. I sensed satisfaction this time. I felt my sword tip bury itself in my opponent's left armpit with a slight crunch. I twisted the blade, despite the pain in my shoulder and stepped back.

Asinnius was on his feet in seconds, but it was clear that he was badly hurt. His face was ashen and his breath came in gasps. He stared into my eyes with a look of pure hatred and tried to say something, but all that came was a spray of blood.

He sank to his knees, still fighting desperately to breathe. Blood flowed from his wound onto the cobbles, as he knelt and I pushed him gently with my foot. The dying man toppled and lay sprawled on his back, blood pooling around him on the cobblestones.

I knew I had killed him. Without looking back, I limped slowly out of the alleyway into a street, where a small boy stared at me in awe from a doorway and a handcart hurried past me. The street scene had a sense of unreality. For me, it was as if no one noticed me. I felt invisible, spirit-like and translucent to the Greeks and Pontics who passed me. I noticed no stares, but I must have looked terrifying.

My dented helmet was askew on my head and blood still dripped from my right arm to the cobbles at my feet. Blood ran down my right thigh. There was a dent in the breastplate that had protected my front.

I felt dizzy and put my left arm out to steady myself as I reached a corner, my head ached and the world began to spin, whirling around me like clouds in a tempest. My vision obscured and all was black for a moment.

I found myself lying on my back and I could see grey clouds in the sky above. No one touched me, I lay where I had fallen and an odd thought came into my consciousness. I felt as if I was being carried, not by hands but by winged creatures, up, up into the grey sky and all the time my head ached and there was pain in my right shoulder, reminding me of the reality of the day.

My next awareness was of people staring down at me some shaking their heads and others speaking rapidly in a strange language. Then clarity. Then pain. An urgent comprehension dawning, that I had to get back to my men. I had no idea where I was. Everywhere I looked, I could see bright light silhouetting the gathered people as if the sun itself had descended to light my way. I rose unsteadily to my feet again and the bystanders gave way before me, as if I was contagious. Their fear of me was almost tangible as I stumbled forwards.

Each street looked the same. It was a confusing blur. I continued in this way for some minutes and then felt faint again. There were floating points of light in my visual fields and I staggered, crashing into a wall. I breathed deeply, hungering for air. I noticed my heart thumping fast and still managed to get to my feet. I asked a bystander where I was but did not understand the reply. All was confusing. All became gradually dark and I realised that I was on my knees.

Chapter XVII

"It is not death that a man should fear, but he should fear never beginning to live." - Marcus Aurelius

Birdsong. A gentle dawn light flowed through a window and a winter sun began to rise. I felt hot and I was sweating. Every movement set off cascades of pain from my shoulder and I was aware of pain elsewhere but not like the shoulder, more gentle somehow.

I tried to elevate myself onto my elbow but there was a weakness in my arms and my eyelids felt heavy as if weighted down. There was a cool hand on my brow. Comforting, calming. There was a voice too but it echoed and sounded far away as in a dream.

'He feels hot,' the voice said. It was a female voice and it seemed vaguely familiar.

I tried to agree, but no words came and I drifted back into another world. It was a place where two small boys were battling with wooden swords for a crown, in front of a huge crowd. I smiled to myself. Julius, the boy next door, was winning and I could feel the wooden sword hit me in the right groin. That was unfair! It was painful.

Then Julius changed into a tall dark barbarian, dressed in red and green laggings and a bearskin cloak. The badly scarred face grimaced frighteningly as he attacked me. I was only a little boy! Blue eyes, steel-cold, piercing, stabbing at my little face! I looked up at the fierce bearded face and wondered why such a man was picking on a boy of my age. There was a momentary confusion and all went quiet.

'The fever will break soon; I'm sure, Your Majesty. You must get some rest,' a man's voice this time and that thin strand of reality made me open my eyes. There was a sudden clarity and I saw her face.

'Yes, she looks tired,' I thought to myself and I wondered if it was Hypsicratea or another dream. I felt content somehow, my eyes closed again, and I relaxed. Time seemed to pass and there were more dreams, angry, violent dreams of battles fought, death and blood, but also dreams of the beautiful regal face of the Pontic Queen.

It was a full week before my fever broke. The shoulder had been badly infected where the sword had cut me and although it had been sutured neatly enough, it had to be re-opened to let out the pus, by the Pontic physician who Hypsicratea had summoned.

I later learned that Hypsicratea had sat with me constantly almost without sleep or rest and had arranged for my treatment by the best doctors in the city.

The fever declined quite suddenly on the eighth day and I opened my eyes, weak but aware. I looked with full awareness at the Queen's face for the first time since the fight with the corsairs.

'I saw you in a dream,' I said quietly.

'I thought you did,' she said. 'You talked quite a lot about someone called Julius and fighting a Gaul. You mentioned my name as well.'

'Where am I?'

'In the palace. The Roman surgeon had sewn your wound but it became septic and my own doctors and it had to be opened to let out the poison. They have been looking after you. I have been so worried.'

I grimaced with pain as I tried to lift myself up but I felt better this time and managed to prop myself up on my left elbow. Hypsicratea called to her maidservant and some broth was spooned into my mouth. It made me cough and splutter at first but swallowing became easier with each mouthful.

'Junius brought you back to the barracks but the Roman doctor despaired of you life. He said you had lost so much blood that you would die. Junius came here and he begged me to do something.'

'I owe you my life then.'

'We both owe each other our lives,' she said with a grin, 'Junius brought you here in one of my sedan chairs, and you have been here ever since. The doctor says your shoulder may be permanently stiff, but what do doctors know? They spend half the time praying and the other half making their stinking potions. Maybe you got better despite him!'

'I don't know what to say, your kindness is more than I deserve.'

'Yes I suppose it is,' she grinned again, 'Perhaps you will pay me back one day and then I will owe you something again. I am happy that you are getting better. I would have missed you badly if you had died. I didn't realise how much, until Junius came.'

I looked at her and wondered if there was some chance she might feel about me as I did about her, but I knew that it was a forlorn hope. I remember thinking that I wanted the use of my arm as much to put it around her as to fight with.

'Did the doctors say when I will be fit to return to the legion?'

'They suggested a further week in bed and then recovery over six weeks by the Roman calendar.'

'I have to see my commanding officer and make my report.'

'Well, it seems the report has already been made to Lucullus. A Tribune called Marcus Mettius took it upon himself to do that. Junius will tell you all about it.'

'Marcus! I wouldn't trust him for all the gold in Pontus. Besides, he was unconscious through most of it. Can you get word to Junius and ask him to come? I need to speak to him.'

'I'll try, but the last I heard was that he was under house-arrest pending some sort of enquiry.'

'I'll go to him then.'

I tried to sit up but my head swam and I was unable to do more than fall back onto the sheets. The pain in my shoulder began again and waves of exhaustion flowed over me.

'Aulus, you must rest now and with time you will heal. Don't undo the doctor's good work by struggling.'

She sat with me until I slept again and later must have sent word to Junius that I was improving.

He came that evening. I was awake at that time and a servant was feeding me. As she spooned the broth into my mouth, I heard him arrive. He seemed subdued but I thought at first this was because of my recent ill health.

'Aulus! My dear friend, I am so pleased to see you back in the land of the living!'

'It's good to see you my friend,' I said, 'what news?'

'I managed to get out of the billet long enough to get here but I hope I won't be disciplined if they find out.'

'Disciplined? Have you been confined to quarters?'

'Yes, your wonderful cousin claims that he was on the track of the corsairs and their spies. He has told Lucullus that you started killing them and that is why we won't find out any more information,' he said.

'That is so typical of the man! He never had any honour that one. Does Lucullus believe him? Surely he knows enough about Mettius to see that he's lying?'

'I don't know about that, but the General is waiting until you have recovered and then wants us to give him our side of the story. I can't say I'm looking forward to it. I'm stuck in the house of Polymecles and can't do anything. I've been going mad. If it wasn't for Aripele I would have,' he stared past me for a moment clearly thinking of things far away from my sick bed.

'Junius, we stick together and tell the truth. It is the Roman way. Sorry, that sounds trite, but it will be the best policy whatever happens. I think Lucullus is no fool.'

'Let's hope he isn't.'

'I owe you my life, you know. You always said you would watch my back. One day I hope I'll repay you my friend.'

'Look my little friend; you owe me nothing but friendship. We have fought and bled in this legion and it creates ties between us all. I know you would look after me as I would look after you. It's the bond we have forged.'

With that, he turned and made for the door.

'Junius, just one more thing. How is Polymecles? He seemed feverish when we left.'

'Don't worry about him. He is as tough as old sandals, he just doesn't know it. I almost forgot, he asked me to bring you some fruit from him, but I ate it on the way.'

Junius smiled as he spoke and if I could have thrown something at him, I would have.

* * *

The temperature had dropped and even in Pontus, there was a bitter north wind bringing a cold Scythian rain to the capital. The room in the command headquarters smelled of burning oil lamps. The General had left the remains of his breakfast on the table before him, and an Orderly stepped forward to remove it. Lucullus waved the man away and studied us. He was wearing a thick woollen cloak of red wool and a white neck scarf. His disappointment showed on his face and I wondered how the General had formed such a low opinion of what I had thought of as a successful operation.

The brazier in the corner of the room crackled and the damp unseasoned wood began to catch. I could feel an insect crawl beneath my right armpit but standing to attention meant I had to tolerate its presence.

'The whole matter has been reported to me in detail,' the General said, reaching for a fig from his breakfast platter, 'had it not been for Marcus Mettius, the outcome could have resulted in courts martial for you both. As it is, he pleaded your case very well and I am inclined to be lenient. Have you anything to say?'

'Sir,' I remained standing rigidly to attention, 'We had no intention of fighting with the corsairs at the meeting. We had intended to find out more about their connections and agents in the legions. Tribune Mettius caused the fight and we had no choice but to respond.'

'That isn't what your cousin says. He says that you started the fight. Centurion Bassus seems to corroborate that. You will recall, he was also present. Either way, you killed Asinnius prematurely, for we are none the wiser about the identity of the rest of the traitors. Asinnius deserved to die like a dog, for he betrayed Rome, but you failed in your mission and I no longer regard either of you as useful now.'

'Are we to be punished?' Junius asked.

'No, there is nothing to punish. All you did seems to have been within the competencies expected of an enlisted man. It makes it clear however, that neither of you is officer material and the chance of either of you making Centurion in the future with this kind of blemish on your records is negligible.'

I was uncertain whether to be pleased or disappointed. To escape punishment was a relief but to have a tarnished record despite my best intentions would indeed jeopardise my chances of later promotion unless I did something exemplary in battle. Battle however, was a long way off by all accounts and the legions were not expecting to move to Armenia until the early summer. Meanwhile, putting up with Marcus Mettius in the same legion was more of a punishment than any that Lucullus might have dreamed up, I thought.

Lucullus stood up and placed himself in front of the brazier, lifting his tunic at the back to warm the tops of his legs. He looked at our hapless faces.

'Veridius, I heard you cornered Asinnius and killed him when you were already wounded nearly losing your life in the process. Tell me what happened.'

I shuffled uncomfortably from foot to foot, like a little boy reciting his lessons to his tutor and began to describe the fight with the Centurion. When I came to the end, Lucullus said, 'Meridius clearly taught you well. He always spoke highly of your swordsmanship and to apply it when you were wounded like that, is exemplary. How is the shoulder?'

'Healing quickly sir. It's stiff but I am practicing daily with a gladius and hope to be fit for the spring campaign, sir.'

'That's the stuff, Decurion. You are both dismissed. You won't make spies, but I suppose you both have fighting skills that will be needed before too long.'

We turned about with the usual foot stamping and left the building.

'That was a close one.'

'Aulus, I thought he was genuinely impressed with your tale of the fight with Asinnius.'

'It wasn't a tale! It happened that way.'

'That's not what I meant. Perhaps things aren't as gloomy as I had thought. At least we got away without punishment. That cousin of yours needs sorting out though. I may kill him myself, if I get a chance one of these days.'

'Leave him to me. He clearly lied to the General and that bastard Bassus, the fat fool, backed him up. There is no one who would take our word against his is there?'

'Maybe not now that Meridius is dead. Maybe they're trying to get you thrown out of the legion and then without the protection of your comrades they could take the amulet?'

'Perhaps, but they wouldn't find it that easy. I spent a lot of my life staying alive in the Subura and it makes you sharp!'

'Don't get too cocky. That Bassus is a good fighter I hear.'

'I can take care of myself.' I said.

Junius thumped me on the shoulder playfully but realised the mistake immediately. I grasped my shoulder and swore like the trooper I was.

'By the balls of Jupiter himself! You stupid bloody, clumsy, country bastard! It feels like my shoulder's on fire! How can you be so stupid?'

Junius apologising, showed his embarrassment by a flush of his cheeks.

'It's all right, but be a bit more careful. It's only four weeks since I was lying on my death-bed,' I said as the pain subsided.

'I never heard you refer to the Queen's palace in those terms before,' smiled Junius.

We looked at each other and a smile rapidly replaced the grimace of pain. I knew there were few people in the whole Empire who could make me smile as Junius could.

As we walked, the conversation centred on the forthcoming campaign against the Armenians. We were interrupted by a gravelly voice behind us.

'Decurions! I want a word.'

It was Bassus. Two large legionaries that neither of us recognised flanked the stout Centurion.

'Sir!' I said, as we stood to attention.

'Well? Have you considered my offer?' he said tapping my injured shoulder with his vine cane.

'What offer?' I said.

'Don't play games with me! The amulet. I still want it and you still have it. I don't expect that situation to last.'

'Sir, I told you, Marcus can go rot. He isn't having the amulet for any reason and you can't take it without risking your life. The penalty for killing an enlisted man is death isn't it?'

'And so is the penalty for holding out on me.'

'Is that all?'

'Yes that's all. You had better watch your back Sonny, or you may find a knife in it.'

Clearly irritated, Bassus was scratching his beard thoughtfully as we walked away. He turned on his heel and went back towards the palace to report to Marcus Mettius.

I touched the green stone around my neck. I could feel the silver wiring that held its two halves in place. Why was Marcus so interested in it anyway? He was rich. He didn't need the information it contained. Even if he had it, he would not know what to do with it I thought.

I pictured my father all those years before, his round face and his smile. I remembered him saying, 'You know what Etruscan is don't you Aulus?'

We walked in silence, for each of us knew that we could expect violence from Marcus now. The matter was almost out in the open and we knew that caution was required.

BOOK III: ARMENIA
Chapter I

"True friendship ought never to conceal what it thinks." - St Jerome

We stood to attention before the walls of Sinope, on the wide plain that adorned the approach to the gates. We were in our dressed ranks and the whole cohort had orders to attend the assembly. Our chief Centurion wanted to address us, which was all we had been told.

We had all heard that Gaius Calvus Vegetius had been in the legions for fifteen years. He was a man made of rock. As an enlisted man who had made it to the centurionate, he had to be an exceptionally gifted soldier. He had a reputation for fairness and loyalty to his men but intolerance of breaches of discipline. He had stepped into Asinnius' shoes as a promotion to the rank of senior Centurion and he seemed self-assured, as if he had nothing in particular to prove. Perhaps it was this confidence that made him such a fair-minded leader.

As his dark, intelligent eyes surveyed us, his broad and stocky frame appeared relaxed and he addressed the men of the second cohort as we stood to attention.

'All right men,' his deep, slow, gravely, parade ground voice had steel in it. It soared above the cohort as he spoke, 'we are only days away from starting the march to Armenia. It will take months. There may be fighting on the way and when we get there we face an army, I am told, that will outnumber us by a factor of five to one.'

He paused, as he seemed to be assessing the effect of this piece of news. I did not react, nor did any of my men, for we had known that the Armenian army was huge, for weeks. Whether this was a propaganda exercise on the part of the Armenians or the truth, remained to be seen. Time would tell and I felt that worrying about it now would make little difference in the end.

I looked at Calvus. My initial impression had been of a hard man who I felt instinctually I could trust but I was reconciled to the thought that Calvus would have been told all about my failure to obtain the information Lucullus had required about the corsairs and their spies.

'For those of you who can't count,' he smiled as he spoke, 'I am the Senior Centurion. I command the first century. The other five centuries that make up the second cohort are led by their Centurions who are subordinate to me. Our Tribune, Procillus will lead us to victory but I will drive you to it!

'Don't think that the size of the Armenian forces will count one bit against our discipline. They are conscripts and slaves. They fight because they are enslaved, but we fight as free men, for the glory and honour of Rome. We will destroy them and you will fight well, for I know you to be tough and brave.

'Some of you however, may think that you can run from battle when the going gets tough. Well all I can say is that if you do and the enemy don't kill you, I will. And don't think I don't know every trick in the book! I know all about putting your breastplate on your back, so the enemy can't kill you when you run. If I see you do that, you can rely on the fact that I will kill you from the front.

'For some of you,' the Centurion continued, 'leaving this place will be hard. Many of you have found women and you will have feelings for them. I will say this only once,' he looked me straight in the eye as he spoke, 'if any of you think you can go absent without leave and remain in Sinope, you had better reconsider. The army pursues deserters with a vigour you men wouldn't believe. Don't even think of it. You hear?'

'No sir!' came the smart reply from the cohort.

'If you have worries over the size of the opposition, you only need look at the collapse of the Pontic armies of Mithradates. These men are no match for us! We have Roman discipline. They have heavily armoured horse. We have skilled Triarii whose spears make such cavalry shiver with fear! We will always be the victors, for when the horses have died we will advance in formation and cut the riders to pieces.'

A cheer rose from the ranks. No one believed what was said if they scrutinized it carefully, but to have an ebullient tough Centurion telling you that you will be victorious was a morale raiser of sorts in itself.

As the cohort fell out, Calvus approached me.

'I've heard a lot about you, Decurion Veridius.' He said tapping me on the shoulder with his vine cane.

'All good I hope?'

'No, not much of it. I did hear that Meridius trained you. He was a great man. I had a lot of respect for him. I hope you learned enough not to let your comrades down.'

'I don't understand, sir.'

'You don't?'

'No sir.'

'I've heard rumours that you let the side down in some undercover escapade with the corsairs.'

'No sir, I did not.'

'I also heard you killed Asinnius, but he was rumoured to be a traitor so I suppose that was no crime,' he leant forward close enough for me to smell his breath, a mixture of garlic and wine.

'I also heard that you have a connection with the Pontic Queen. It is not a very loyal thing to be involved in.'

'Sir, my loyalty has never been in question. I am a servant of Rome. I believe in the legion.'

'Then I expect you to show it. '

'Yes sir, I will obey my orders. You can trust me.'

'It's not a matter of trust, Veridius. I will inflict every kind of punishment on you if you are not at your post between now and the time we leave.'

'Permission to speak sir?'

'Well, what is it?'

'I just wondered why you take that tone with me. I've served faithfully for four years now. I was not aware that anyone questioned my loyalty.'

'You may not be aware, but a little bird whispered in my ear, suggesting I watch you as a potential deserter.'

'Sir, I would never desert, despite anything you may have heard. I swear by my parent's dead souls, that this is so.'

'Very well, over the coming months you will show me your loyalty and perhaps the matter will resolve itself. That is all, you are dismissed.'

I turned to my right and marched to the edge of the muster field. I was sure that Marcus was responsible for besmirching my name.

I sighed and went to join Junius and Titus in the tavern, where the men of my contubernium congregated.

* * *

Early evening in Sinope in the summer was always a delight. The gardens in the palace smelled of jasmine and herbs. Hypsicratea and I reclined on divans in the gardens and the servants had withdrawn, leaving us alone in the torchlight. The remains of our meal, roast meat, fresh bread, olives and fruit sat upon the table waiting to be cleared away.

We were drinking some of the local wine. Hypsicratea had a good appreciation of wine and happily for me, she provided wonderful, dark, scented wines for her guests. Although the Pontic wines were a little too resinous for my taste, like the Greek wines, they were no less potent than the finest Falernian and we had consumed many cups of wine as we had talked and eaten.

I could not shake off the feeling that this might be the last time I would see this wonderful, beautiful woman who had so brightened up the time I had spent in Sinope. I was as sure as any young man could be, that the feeling I had for her was love.

'Hypsicratea, I owe you my life. Had it not been for you taking me in after the fight in the alley, I'm sure I would not have survived. I don't know how to thank you.'

'I never thanked you for saving me from the brigands, well, not properly anyway. There was that bear as well. You and Junius are very brave men and honourable too. You have shown me that not all Romans are barbarians.'

'Strange isn't it? We think of you as barbarians,' I said smiling.

'When do you leave?'

'In the morning, just before dawn. It is a long march and we have to be ready for trouble on the way. There is a rebel town at Ionium and I think there are plans to besiege it on the way.'

'You will be gone long?'

'We are hoping to reach Tigranocerta in the late summer but it may not be until autumn if the siege of the rebel city takes a long time.'

'I don't know why I feel like this Aulus, but I wish you weren't going. I am afraid for you. I will miss you I think.'

'You will never know how much I will miss you too,' I said. I meant it too. I had no indication that she might mean it in the same way as I did.

Alone in beautiful surroundings and with wine wafting my senses away, I looked at her and wondered how I would ever forgive myself if I failed to tell her how I felt.

There was still something that stopped me. It may have been that she was married, but I think now it was the usual spectre that haunts all young men in those circumstances - a fear of rejection. In my case, such rejection would not be merely an assault upon my ego but could result in dire consequences. I was after all, a soldier of Rome in a foreign palace with a woman who all knew and respected. The slightest hint of an insult would land me in more trouble than anything that Marcus could cause by his rumours and innuendo and I knew it.

Our couches were on opposite sides of the table and I could not easily touch her although I longed to do so. I reached for the silver cup into which a servant had poured my wine. As I did so, Hypsicratea reached forward and touched my hand. It was gentle but like the touch of lightning to me. It was as if all the nymphs in the forests had joined in caressing my hard and calloused fingers.

I withdrew my hand and looked into her eyes. I was desperate, tortured and I think she saw that. Perhaps she too had some of that desperation for she rose and sat upon my couch.

We looked silently into one another's eyes and my heart seemed to want to fly from my chest, for it beat so hard. I touched her upon the shoulder, gently, oh, so gently. The feel of her softness, her warmth, was like touching the sun on a summer's day. It almost burned my hand and my desire for her became uncontrollable. I propped myself up on my elbow and reached for her. She did not demur, but leaned towards me.

As our lips touched, my soul flew. It was not like my fantasies and dreams it was above them, beyond them. I took her in my arms and caressed her back. I remember the feel of her flesh beneath my fingers. It haunts me still in deepest dreams and waking moments alike, for it was the culmination of many months of buried ambitions and hope.

She stood up a little unsteadily, whether from the wine or from emotion I know not. She was still holding my hand.

'Not here,' she whispered., 'it's not safe.'

She led me by the hand into the palace and we climbed the stairs to a long silent empty corridor the length of the palace. Hand in hand, tense and eager we found a bedchamber. There was a bed in the corner, hung with green silken drapes. As we entered, she turned and our lips met again with passion.

That night resides indelibly in the deepest recesses of my mind. There was a frustration too; that I perhaps could have made love to her before, but like all lost opportunities, my uncertainty had made that impossible. If I had only known that she felt for me, as I did for her, we would have been together long before.

We made love several times, each with greater freedom and intimacy as the night wore on. We talked little for we had perhaps said it all the previous evening.

Parting was the hardest. The pre-dawn light began to seep into the torch-lit room and I knew I had to go.

'Hypsicratea, I must go. They will think I have deserted if I am not there on the march.'

'I know,' she touched my cheek with her hand, the gentlest of caresses, 'I love you.'

'If only there was a way for us to be together.'

'No, how could it be? Should I run away with you and be a soldier's wife? Cook for you in the camp? Wash your clothes when you go marching and the rest? I think not. You cannot stay either for they would hunt you. Perhaps it would have spared us both this pain if we had not given in last night. Hold me.'

'I will come back to you when all this is done and we can decide what to do. As you say, we have to part now. You have given me a reason to return and a reason to stay alive whatever happens in the war.'

'And if Mithradates returns? It is unlikely that he will but a future together does not seem to be possible unless you desert and you would not be Aulus to me, if you did that. Better to say goodbye and accept. It seems to me that every man I love goes away.'

'The Gods have strange ways of putting people together when they least expect it. Perhaps one day...'

We kissed deeply and as I dressed, I looked at her face. There were no tears. She was someone I had clearly been unable to read at all so far in our friendship. I still did not know truly, what went on in her mind but what man does know a woman's mind? I did know that I loved her. Had she not confessed her feelings for me too?

It was a hard parting. I sat on the bed looking at her face and my heart ached. Torn in two, I kissed her one more time, knowing it would be the last.

She had changed me. It was the first time I had been in love. To lose her now, after only one night, was bitter sweet indeed. She had taken from me and given much too.

I could not escape the danger that my love for her had produced. Had I now left her with a risk of punishment or would it all be hidden, masked from view and my lovely Queen kept safe?

The penalty for infidelity in Pontus was for the woman to be stoned. The thought ran through my mind with growing urgency. What had I done?

I left the palace with my mind in turmoil, reliving the moments of love and passion in my thoughts and pursued by fears of their consequences.

Chapter II

"Anger is a short madness." - Horace

I was late. I clutched my kit in my hand and ran. There was a dawn mist as I jogged along the road out of the city. I found my column without difficulty for we were in the van. Being late for the first muster of the march was a disaster. I thought back to Calvus telling me that he would be watching me and thought perhaps that I had now wrecked everything, by my tardiness.

'Veridius!'

The sound of my Optio's voice gave me a feeling of anger and frustration with myself, but I knew that even one second with Hypsicratea was worth a thousand field punishments.

'Decided to join us have you?' he glared at me, 'As Decurion you should have been here early to muster your men for the march. Perhaps you would be better as a ranker. It is possible to descend the ranks in this army as well as climb them!'

'Sorry sir, I had no means of knowing the time and I was delayed getting my stuff from the billet.'

'I told you to be ready in time. How a kid your age ever got promoted beats me. A few minutes more and I would have had you down for a deserter. What's her name?'

'Who?'

'There is only one thing that delays a good soldier from starting his duties apart from a hangover in my experience. Was it a good night?'

I looked him in the eye. I could not stop myself smiling, for an image of Hypsicratea as she was when we parted, came into my head.

'Yes,' I said, 'Wonderful.'

'Well this time, since you seem to be so in love, you can have the latrine duty when we make camp. You can supervise the men digging them and you can help fill them in when we leave. If that doesn't stop you thinking of her nothing will, clear?'

'Yes sir.'

'Join the column.'

It was a hard, long march that morning. Junius was on the other side of our column and in marching order; we were formed up four abreast. I had no chance to talk, except to Titus who marched on my left. I was disinclined to talk in any case. I was tired, having had no sleep and my heart was sore for Hypsicratea. As I scratched my unshaven face, I could smell her on my hands and I felt pain as I went over every second of the night before. It was grief in one sense but also a feeling of elation. I could not get the images to budge. She never left my thoughts.

'Damned wooden stakes,' Titus said, ripping me back to reality as we marched.

'What?'

'These damned wooden stakes we all have to carry for the camp wall.'

'What about them?' I said.

'I don't see why each soldier has to carry them. This one's rubbing me raw and it's heavier than that fellow's.'

'They can't go in the wagons. If the wagons were delayed or unable to go over rough ground, where would we be?' I said, 'we would end up making camp with no fortifications and be exposed to the Gods know what.'

'I know, but there's no harm in complaining. All soldiers complain. It's our duty,' smiled Titus.

'Maybe, but fighting off barbarians with no palisade is a whole lot more to complain about.'

'Well you might be right. Do you think we'll be fighting this time? I'm sick of guard duties.'

'Yes, Titus, we will be fighting. The Armenians have a huge army. There is a rumour that Lucullus wants to go on after and challenge the Parthians.'

'Parthians? Not with this lot, I can tell you. Most of them are veterans and close to retirement. I think they'll dig their heels in and refuse. If you were only a year off finishing your stint with the army, would you take on a long foreign campaign?'

'If I was ordered to, yes,' I said.

'I heard some of the lads say they weren't happy about this campaign let alone starting another one. Are all seven legions going to Armenia?' Titus said.

'Well one stayed behind in Sinope. One is going under Sextillius to harass the Armenian army as it forms and a third under Murena is due to move ahead and besiege Tigranocerta according to Calvus. We had a briefing two days ago and it looks as if the Armenians are drawing their army together at Taurus in the mountains and we hope to wrong foot them by arriving before they're fully mustered. That means we have five legions, cavalry and auxiliaries. Did you see the Thracian cavalry? Thousands of them, but only lightly armoured. I wouldn't like to be them, meeting Cataphractii. Our five legions will be enough anyway. A bigger army would be ungainly and hard to feed I think, but the General knows what he is doing.'

'I heard the Senate is against him.'

'Yes. I heard the same but they haven't recalled him so maybe they don't mind?'

'I suppose if they did recall him then we could avoid the mutiny.'

'Mutiny?' I asked.

'I told you, the lads don't want to fight and die so close to retirement. They could easily mutiny. Not our legion, the veterans who have been with Lucullus all the time, I mean.'

'I thought they loved Lucullus.'

'Aulus, you have a lot to learn about the army. In a tight spot they're very loyal but when it comes to pay or pensions they would kill anyone,' Titus said.

We marched on in silence. I thought about what he had said, in between ruminations of Hypsicratea. I wished I were in Sinope.

We stopped, rested, and ate around midday. It was a massive campsite. Almost seventy thousand men and horses and all in one place. The noise and bustle of the place was extraordinary. Junius and I made a fire and cooked wheat porridge, which is the main diet of soldiers on the march. It provides energy and there is little risk of dysentery.

I was eating when I saw a tall officer on his horse approaching us.

'Aulus Veridius?' he said to no one in particular. I stood to attention and replied.

'That's me sir.'

'I'm Procillus your Tribune.'

'Sir,' was all I found to say for I was sure he was not there to pass the time of day.

'You are the Decurion?' he said frowning slightly, 'I was expecting someone older.'

'Aulus Veridius Scapula sir.'

'Any relation to Gaius Ostorius Scapula? I know a chap of that name. Jolly good chap he is. His father was a consul and he swore he'd become one too. Bit of a lad really.'

'No sir. Different Scapula I'm afraid.'

'Probably have to rub shoulder blades with lots of them then?' Procillus laughed at his own pun but I found it difficult to understand. His laugh was high pitched and it reminded me of a horse in pain.

'The commander has asked to see you. You and the other Decurion, oh, what's his name?'

'Junius Sinna was it sir?'

'Yes that rings a bell. Follow me will you.'

Procillus dismounted and walked his horse towards the area where the officers were resting and eating. Junius and I followed. We threaded our way through the camp between tents and men. The men raised their voices at times, laughing at others but the atmosphere was relaxed. We all knew it would be months before we fought the Armenians and soldiers seldom think that far ahead.

Procillus was a young man and like many tribunes in the Roman Legions had entered the army to further his political career. He had held the post of Aedile the year before being commissioned and during that time, had done much to earn the respect of the people of Rome.

He had re-built a library dedicated to Jupiter at the Forum Boarium and many ordinary people including me remembered his name.

He was tall and thin but there the resemblance to my cousin ceased. Procillus was pleasant, fair and had a sunny disposition. He smiled a lot and although he never let anyone take advantage of him, he was not a martinet.

When he had lived in Rome, he had attended every social function he could. He once told me that and I am sure he told the truth, for we all noticed he liked a drink and he was rarely alone at night unless we were on the march. I had no idea whether he would be a good leader in battle but that experience was yet to come.

Lucullus sat in front of a small tent and they had tethered his white stallion nearby to a tree. His sunburned face looked tired and there were dark lines under his eyes. A worried man seemingly. An Orderly was pouring the General wine, when Junius and I arrived. There was a bench in front of the table, at which he sat and he squinted against the sunshine as he looked up at us.

'We meet again, Decurions!' he said with a smile.

'Yes sir,' we said together standing to attention.

'You may stand easy men,' he said and indicated a bench in front of the table.

'Wine?' he indicated the Orderly to pour us each a cup of watered wine and dismissed him. He leant forwards on his elbows conspiratorially, across the table then looked over his shoulder at our Tribune.

'Procillus, you may go. Make sure there is no one within earshot of my tent, there's a good chap,' He looked back to us, 'You two didn't do very well last time I asked you to do something for me did you?'

'No sir,' I said reluctantly for I did not share his opinion but also knew it was useless to argue.

'Well I need some people who I can trust to do a little accommodation for me. Can I trust you?'

'Even if the result of the last mission was not as you desired, we were at all times trustworthy, sir.'

'Yes, quite. That was what I thought. I want to give you a chance to redeem yourselves by gathering information.'

'Information sir?'

'Yes, you see, the legions at my disposal are made up of older veterans, many of whom will have served their time in another year or so.'

'I think I know what you are going to say,' I said for it was after all, common knowledge that there was a degree of unrest in the legions. Titus had indicated as much.

'You do?'

'I presume you want us to find out if there is going to be a mutiny and pass on the information.'

'You're sharper than I thought, Decurion,' Lucullus said regarding me with a serious expression, which I dared not hope indicated respect.

'We can ask around, sir, but we're in the Ninth Legion and that is the one most recently arrived. There is no talk of sedition in our ranks at all. Some complain, but that is a soldier's lot I think.'

'Yes. I will authorise you to liaise with the other legions. You could form an inspection team or something like that. Can either of you write?'

'I can write well enough in Greek and Latin sir,' I said with pride.

'You seem to surprise me every time you open your mouth Veridius. I hear you are handy with your sword as well, according to Procillus. Something to do with a sword contest?'

'Yes sir, Meridius beat me in the final bout, but I think I was only lucky to get that far, sir.'

'He was a good man that.'

'Yes sir.'

'Very well, I will ask Procillus to accompany you on an inspection and you will be released from your normal duties for the time being.'

'Is that all sir?'

'Yes, you are dismissed. Oh and Veridius?'

'Sir?'

'I have heard other accounts of the fight in the alley which dispute the story I heard from your cousin. Do you want me to pursue it?'

'No sir. If you can overlook the outcome I see no point.'

'Very well, dismissed. Procillus!'

Junius and I walked back to where our cohort was resting. We had marched six hours and could look forward to at least another four hours march before we had to make our fortifications for the night's camp.

I found my Optio, explained that I was on special duty, and that I would unfortunately be unable to help with the latrines. He was less than pleased, but when I explained who had requested us, he had little choice.

'Why is it that every time we are confronted by a General you do all the talking?' Junius said.

'I suppose it is natural that the most educated and intelligent person should be spokesman,' I said, looking at my friend with mock seriousness.

'You what?' he said with a look of fury upon his usually smiling face.

'You fell for that one,' I said pointing at him with my index finger.

'I'll kill you by mistake one of these days if you make a joke like that again,' he shook his head as he spoke.

'Sorry, it was a poor joke. I suppose I end up doing the talking because I am better looking.'

He looked sideways at me and we both laughed. As ever, it relieved the tension we both felt, for neither of us relished the idea of spying on our fellow soldiers, even though we knew it was important.

* * *

As Junius and I met with Procillus, men were constructing the fortifications. The three of us walked along the perimeter of the camp. Legionaries were digging a trench, each with his own shovel and others from the fifth cohort were finishing erecting the palisade. We had drilled for so long that erecting a camp wall and digging a spiked trench around it was second nature to us all. The entire fortification took only an hour if done quickly but two hours if done at leisure such as this one. We were in no particular hurry although the light was rapidly failing and we had marched ten hours that day, making good time.

A little drizzle had begun to fall from an overcast sky and we wrapped our cloaks around us against the breeze that seemed to pursue us in our walking conversation.

'Aulus, the General tells me you have an education.'

'Sort of. I had a Greek tutor for a few years in my youth. He taught me much in a short time.'

'I think the best way for us to circulate tomorrow will be if we are on an inspection of equipment and supplies by order of the General. It would help if you kept some notes.'

'I'm not trained to be a scribe, you know.'

'No, but it won't matter what you write, most of our comrades can't read anyway.'

'Junius has some friends in the Lucullan legion, they're from the same part of Italia, and maybe that would be a good place to start,' I said.

'All right.'

'Why is it called the Lucullan? All the rest have numbers attached to the legions names' I asked.

'It's because, when the General first came out here, he came with a legion that he raised personally and at his own expense. He is a very rich man in his own right, even without the treasure taken in Pontus.'

'You mean he paid their wages?' asked Junius.

'And for their equipment,' replied Procillus, 'he is a remarkable man. I think the Senate opposed him and he ended up financing the legion at his own expense as a result.'

'So if you pay the expenses for a legion, the Senate don't mind what you do with it?' Junius said.

'It's a bit more complicated than that. Where shall we meet?' Procillus said.

'We can meet tomorrow at the Via Praetoria after the morning trumpet call, if you like,' Junius said.

'Very well, in that case I will get some sleep. Well maybe a little wine and a game of dice. Does either of you two gamble?'

'As a matter of fact,' Junius said, 'even though Aulus does most of the talking and writing around here I do the gambling. Lead on sir, I will be pleased to throw the dice and show you how we do it in the ranks.'

They walked off having an animated conversation about the rules and whether Venus was worth more than Mars on the dice.

They left me continuing on my walk around the outside of the palisade, which was virtually finished. Each legion had its own camp and I felt there was no likelihood of anyone attacking us so far from Armenia. I felt safe.

I stared at the ground and thought of the events of the previous night and how a single night can change all your thoughts, ingrained from months of ruminating. Sleeping with Hypsicratea that night had been like reaching the summit of a high mountain. I felt I was plodding, trudging the road downwards now. I desperately wanted to see her and touch her. I imagined the touch of her flesh against mine, the feel of my tongue against hers, and the closeness of our embraces. Visions of our lovemaking flooded my mind to the exclusion of all else. I could have been anywhere for all I knew. Anywhere except the royal palace at Sinope.

Fortuna must have smiled upon me that night, for an odd event saved my life. I slipped in some horse dung on a rock. It suddenly pitched me backwards. My left foot flew up in front of me and my right buckled beneath me with the suddenness of the slip.

My head whipped back hard. It contacted the bridge of my attacker's nose. It must have been painful for he dropped the knife.

I realised what was happening. I rolled away. I looked up. There were two of them. My movements blurred into the speed for which I had been trained. I drew my blade, rose and stood crouching slightly watching the scene.

Two large men, neither of them in military dress stood where I had been walking two seconds before. The uninjured one snarled and leapt forward. His sword moved quickly. I assessed him as an expert from the way he moved. It was relaxed and fast. Like a cat.

In his right hand, he had a knife. In the left, a Roman short sword. He crossed the few yards between us fast. He struck with the gladius left to right at my sword arm. I knew he was hoping to stab with the knife as I parried.

I moved back and to the side. He missed. My right hand moved to my left and I stepped forward. As my blade flashed, he yelped with pain. The knife went flying. I had him now and he knew it. He stood still. He waited for his comrade.

The other attacker had now recovered. He wiped his eyes and drew his sword. Blood streamed from his nose. He approached from my left, a little unsteadily. I had my back to the palisade.

With one left-handed attacker and one right-handed, it was hard to know which go for first. They made the decision for me. The left-hander misjudged me. He went at me fast. He held his sword low. He stabbed forward, ready to jump back. I moved, moved fast and sideways on. I parried and slashed my sword upwards from right to left. A cut to the throat and he fell, leaving the right-hander with the broken nose.

He was brave or maybe he was a fool. He knew I might kill him. He feinted to his left and came back with speed to his right. A side step and a thrust with my gladius and I had killed him.

He grabbed my right arm with his free hand as he sank to the mud at my feet, my blade tugging in my grip and withdrawing as he fell. His hand squeezed only for a moment and then all was still and quiet. An owl hooted in the background and I breathed long and deep. The whole fight took only seconds.

The Greek writers say that after great battles, heavy rain is sure to come. It rained hard then too, despite the size of my little skirmish and I smiled as I remembered Gennadius reading that passage. I wondered what had become of him as I distracted myself from what I had done.

I wiped my sword on the cloak of one of my assailants and made my way quickly to the gate. The sentry let me in although I could not recall the password. I was shaken and anxious.

Who they were was obvious to me. I was convinced they were the same ones who had accompanied Bassus on that day in the square, in front of the temple of Athena in Sinope. However, in the dark, all faces look grey and undecipherable.

I waited, listening to the sound of the rain as it splattered on the leather tent that Junius and I shared in the camp. I was still damp and could not dry off. In a tent, once you are wet you remain so.

Junius returned late and drunk. He stumbled over my armour as he entered and pitched himself onto his straw palette. He did not move except to turn once slightly to one side and vomit. He started snoring. It did not bode well for a night's sleep but I thought of the previous night and it guided me to pleasant dreams with no thoughts of violence or death for once.

Chapter III

"Do not say all that you know, but always know what you say" -Appius Claudius

Junius was ill the next morning, as we walked to the Via Pretoria for our rendezvous with Procillus. Over-refreshed the night before, he had slept or been unconscious, until I roused him with difficulty, anxious not to be late. His nausea and vomiting however irritated me intensely, although I said nothing. Happily, the weather was good, the sky had cleared, and an early but warm sun had risen to cheer us on our way. Not that there was much cheer in Junius' eyes that day.

'By Bacchus why didn't they water the wine? I'll never drink again!' he said with an alcoholic's remorse.

'More importantly, did you win?'

'Haven't got the faintest idea, but we certainly put away a few jugs of the local wine. Procillus is a pleasant fellow, you know. Paid for all the wine and helped me home afterwards. Lends a reality to the expression "an officer and a patrician". By Jupiter, I think I'm still drunk!'

I looked at my friend and decided it was not worth telling him about what had happened to me. It was not the right time. I had killed two legionary soldiers and if anyone suspected me, the penalty would have been my life. I kept quiet.

Procillus was late. We waited almost an hour for the Tribune to appear. He looked as hung-over as Junius. I was not looking forward to a day reminiscing over the previous night but there was no way to avoid it. It was almost as if I took refuge in thoughts of Hypsicratea and they kept asking me what was wrong. I would stare at the ground ruminating and could hardly concentrate on the task.

The day was a waste of time in respect of gathering news but it was a distraction from the tedium of the long march. At each stop, we questioned the men of the Lucullan legion about supplies and equipment and they of course, suspected nothing. Procillus dealt with the officers and we dealt with the men.

We had a general impression however of a tension in the legion, a rising conflict that simmered beneath an otherwise bland external veneer of efficiency.

By the evening, we were able to share a meal with some of the rankers in the Lucullan legion.

'What this army needs is to go home,' the burly Decurion said, though a mouthful of wheat porridge. We sat around a fire, drinking wine that Junius and I had brought with us and none of the assembled soldiers bothered to water it down.

'Petronius is right,' said his friend, an Optio from their first century, first cohort.

'What do you mean?' Junius asked, stringing them along.

'Well, the way I see it, is that we have been out here for five years and now we're going into a fight we can't win. If the Armenians don't kill us in the battle, we'll end up even further from home and don't think the General will stop there. See what I mean?'

'No,' I said.

'The Parthians! That's what's on his mind and I can tell you that even if we win against Tigranes, he will want to go further afield. I don't know anyone in the legion who wants it and most of us are due to retire and get our piece of land and pension.'

'But you'll make a fortune. The Armenians are rich and if we take Tigranocerta, the Armenian city, it will be Saturnalia all the way home,' Junius said.

'What about the ones who aren't about to retire? They have no reason to refuse to fight,' I asked.

'Are you joking? Most of the newer soldiers are scared stiff. The veterans in this legion are what holds us together and the others have little experience. The original men who came at Lucullus' expense at the beginning have been diluted to the point of being only half of the force. The rest are fresh recruits since Cabira and most of them were left over from previous legions under the old governor.'

'Tell me Petronius,' I said trying to sound non-committal, 'There's no talk of mutiny or anything is there?'

'Keep your bleeding voice down will you! That word can have you flogged for sedition if it is even just heard on the lips of a legionary.'

'Sorry, I was only asking because some of our lads have been talking that way.'

'Look Veridius, all I'm saying is that when the time comes there will be a lot of people in this legion who won't want to fight. This is the point. The Armenians have a vast army and they'll crush us. If they don't, then all we have to look forward to is being forced to march on and on, no back pay, no retirement. What do you think we'll do?'

Junius was angry at this point. I could see it in his face. The colour change had occurred gradually while Petronius spoke but I knew him well enough to recognise the signs.

'Look here, do you mean there are plans for a "refusal to fight" or not. You know what I mean. I have to tell the other lads in the Ninth and they won't want to be the only ones to do what we talked about. They need to know what your legion is going to do first. They will stand with you I'm sure,' I said.

'I signed up to fight for the honour of Rome. I didn't do it to sit here with a bunch of mutineers and hear this shit,' Junius said, suddenly to my utter and complete consternation.

'Steady on friend,' Petronius said, 'we're only talking.'

'My friend has had a bad day. He doesn't mean anything by it. Do you?' I said, leaning on Junius' foot with mine, to warn him. He was silent for a moment as it sunk in what his outburst had done. He looked as puzzled by his outburst as I was.

'Err, no, I was just kidding, testing you if you like,' Junius said realising that his temper had got the better of him. The men gathered around the fire all looked askance at my friend and he for his part tried to smile back at them.

'How do we know you're really from the Ninth? You could be spies sent to trap us,' Petronius said, his eyes narrowing and a scowl dawning slowly on his fat wrinkled face.

'Nonsense,' I said with as much confidence in my voice as I could muster, 'How else could we find out what you fellows are going to do if we don't ask. We have to return and let our men know what's what or you won't have any support. I'm sure that if two legions refuse then the rest will follow. We're doing a survey of equipment and will be able to talk to the other legions in the next few days.'

'I don't trust these two,' a voice said from the back and there was a murmur starting that neither Junius nor I were particularly happy with.

'Well we must be going,' I said and stood up.

'Not so fast,' the Optio said with his hand on his sword.

I drew my sword fast. I held it at the throat of the nearest man and noted with satisfaction that Junius had drawn his almost as fast.

'We don't want any trouble here. We're going to leave now and if any man among you follows me, I will defend myself. I'm the Ninth Legion's sword champion and I don't take prisoners,' I said, aware that we were outnumbered five to one.

'Let them go,' Petronius said, 'there's nothing they can do anyway. There are far too many people involved already and if word gets out among the veterans in the other legions, they'll think the same as us. Let them go.'

He looked me in the eye and added, 'If I ever see either of you on a battlefield, you'd better watch your backs, we don't like spies and they get what they deserve.'

We backed away and began bickering.

'I knew exactly what I was doing and you had to open your mouth about the honour of fighting for Rome! What possessed you to do such a stupid thing?'

'I couldn't help it, I just got angry. Those bastards are trying to start a mutiny and we're sitting nice as pie and drinking wine with them! I could have cut their throats.'

'They outnumbered us by about five or six to one!'

'I don't care. I'm not very good at this and all I want is to go back to a bit of proper soldiering. I wish you hadn't said yes to this. Our names will be dirt tomorrow, even in our own legion.'

We met Procillus in the same spot on the Via Praetoria the next morning. He had had a similar but less potentially violent experience.

'The officers in the Lucullan are about ready to mutiny. They have it in mind to wait until we are near Tigranocerta and then start a full-scale withdrawal, leaving the General on his own with any loyal troops, but they think they will take most of the army with them. It seems scarcely possible. They wanted our legion to give a guarantee that if they did that we would follow.'

'We had the same experience but the orator here started talking about the honour of Rome and that put an end to our mission!' I said, looking at Junius who was blushing.

'It wasn't my fault,' he said, 'I hate deserters and mutineers.'

'You didn't have to say so to their faces.'

'There's no other way. Traitors have to be faced down.'

'Excuse me chaps?' it was Procillus, 'When you have quite finished, we need to go back and report our findings to Lucullus, 'I don't think we need to know much more. What he will do about this I have no idea. We're marching to battle with soldiers who have every intention of running all the way back to Rome.'

* * *

The command tent on the Via Praetoria was large by our standards but modest for a General in charge of an army. The central tent pole was ten feet in height and there was a wooden framework on the floor to keep the damp and mud at bay. Oil lamps burned to brighten the dark interior and Lucullus had a straw palette to sleep on in one corner. It was as homely as the deck of a ship in winter.

I was a little surprised at the Spartan interior for I had only seen Lucullus in luxurious surroundings before and the contrast said much for the man. He was rich and could afford all the comforts necessary to make his tent comfortable but chose not to. I realised then that he was a serious soldier and not a patrician playing games.

Procillus was in front and Junius and I behind as we entered. We stood in front of the General and saluted. He looked up from the scrolls on his desktop and smiled.

'Back so soon?'

We told him our findings. He betrayed no surprise. His finely wrinkled features looked serious but not disturbed by the news of the tension in the army.

'Soldiers often complain you know,' Lucullus said.

'I am afraid it is worse than that sir,' Procillus said.

'Perhaps so. I will need to do something soon. Do you think they are just afraid of the numbers we face?'

'No sir, it seems to be the issue that you suspected, because of their length of service. I think many of them expected to go home and the added worry of the Armenian army has topped it off so to speak.'

'Veridius, did you and Sinna here find anything different?'

'No sir, the Tribune is right. I think the impression was of widespread dissent, not only the Lucullan.'

'I am not too surprised. I mentioned to that idiot Marcus Mettius that we might consider a jaunt into Parthia and he spread it all over the bloody camp. Loose tongues do more damage than loose sandals as my mother used to say.'

'Is that all, sir?'

'No. I want you to stay, Procillus; we have much to talk over. You two, I want you both back here at dawn, not late morning - dawn, understood?'

'Yes sir, Junius said for us both.

'I intend to deal with my dissenting officers tomorrow morning and I need someone at my back who I can trust. Think you two fit the bill?'

'Most certainly sir,' Junius said.

'Dismiss.'

Junius and I walked back to our tent, a little uncertain how to explain to our Optio exactly why we were to be absent for another day.

'You what?' he said.

'We have to be at the General's tent in the morning. Sir,'

'I'm going to see about this. I can't have my men trailing all over the place all day for duties they won't even tell me about! Who gave you these orders?'

'It was the General, sir.'

'A likely story. If I find you two have made it all up and are skiving you'll face the prefect and that's a promise.'

'I give you my word,' I said, 'the General asked us to attend a meeting, not to participate, just watch his back.'

I knew I had said too much and regretted it. The Optio looked at us and demanded we stay. He came back with Calvus a few moments later.

'Skiving eh?' Calvus said, poking me in the chest with his vine cane.

'No sir,' I said.

'No? Well what are you up to?'

'We both have specific orders from General Lucullus that we have to report to him at dawn, sir.'

'And why is that?'

'We're not allowed to tell sir.'

Calvus turned to his Optio, a small broad legionary with a slight scar on his left cheek.

'Gaius, can you leave me with these two for a while?'

The Optio left, staring over his shoulder with curiosity and we were alone with Calvus.

'Look, I'm a plain man. I don't go in for fancy plots and backstabbing, all right?'

'No sir,' Junius and I said together.

'You are my Decurions and you owe it to me to be straight with me. I am your father and your mother in this cohort and you can tell me anything. Talk to me, I'm a good listener.'

'We were told not to talk to anyone about it sir, by the General. It would be a breach of discipline.'

'All right you two, let's put it another way. If you don't tell me about the matter neither of you will go anywhere tomorrow apart from the latrines and that will be to clear up when we move on. Is that clear?'

'Can we trust you?' Junius said.

'Look Laddie, after fifteen years in this army I can assure you, I have seen and heard most things the legion and sorry fate can throw at you! There is virtually no one else you can trust!'

We told him the news of course. How could we keep it from our own Centurion?

He was not like the others. He was a true soldier of Rome, Calvus.

'Mutiny? That's terrible news. Last time I saw a mutiny it was on the Rhine, soon after I joined the legions as a raw recruit. The legion that did it was decimated. One man in ten was executed by his own comrades and they then were reviled throughout the army. Which legion is the instigator do you think?

'Looks to us as if it's the Lucullan, sir' I said.

'The General will be disappointed at that. They've been his faithful legion all through his campaigns in Asia Minor. I think he may need more than just two men at his back. You two will not mention this to anyone and I will talk to Procillus about tomorrow morning's arrangements. I find it odd that I was left out.'

'With respect, sir. I think it was just that the General and Procillus had no way of knowing how deep the rot had set in. They don't know what a lovely man you are like we do sir,' Junius said with a smile.

'You have known me for precisely one week you lump! Are you making a joke of me? Well?'

'Sorry, sir, it's just his stupid sense of humour,' I interjected quickly.

'Sense of bloody humour? If it wasn't for the impending mutiny and the fact that you will both be under the direct command of the General himself I would have you doing latrine duties for the rest of the march. How does that make you feel?'

'Sorry sir,' we chorused.

'It was quite funny actually,' Calvus said with half a grin, and half to himself 'you had me going for a second or two. If we could promote you to chief joker, we would. Look, don't make any more stupid jokes and be there at dawn. Dismissed!'

Calvus stomped off into the dark and left us wondering if we had made a mess of everything. For all we knew he was part of the mutiny.

Chapter IV

"I love the name of honour, more than I fear death." - Julius Caesar

Arising before dawn is never pleasant. In the army, in a camp and from an uncomfortable night on straw palettes, it is soul-destroying. Neither of us spoke as we donned our armour. We fumbled around for our gear in the darkness of the tent in a half-awake state and emerged, fully equipped for a fight, but we hardly expected there to be one, for we knew the General was a man who would have thought of everything.

There was no time for food or any other preparation apart from emptying our bladders and swigging some water from our water bottles. Of course, we could have got the time wrong. We were certain that it was near dawn but it could have been earlier, we had no way of knowing. We made our way to the Via Praetoria and the General's tent.

The roadway between the tents was empty. The camp could almost have been deserted, had it not been for the sound of gentle snoring from tents as we passed. There was a clear space in front of the General's tent where the men could form up for muster, but it was, like the rest of the camp, empty of men. As we approached the command tent, an Orderly emerged. He looked at us and said, 'Well?'

'What do you mean "well"?' I said, not feeling particularly like explaining myself at that time of day.

'Who the bloody Styx are you? Is what I mean.' he said, his tone impatient.

'I am Decurion Aulus Veridius Scapula and this is Decurion Junius Sinna. We are here at the General's request.'

'No one tells me anything,' he mumbled irritably, 'wait there.'

We waited long minutes for the Orderly to emerge again and lift the flap for us to enter.

The General was at his desk. My mind was playing games with me for I wondered obliquely whether he had been there immobile all night, but I knew he had not. The remains of his breakfast were on the table before him and as we entered, the Orderly hurried to the desk to remove it. I vaguely thought that we were always interrupting his breakfast.

'All right you two, I want you both behind me. I will sit here and the officers of the Lucullan will walk in through the opening in the tent. I will address them and you will watch them carefully. Can you draw your swords quickly?'

'Of course we can sir,' I said.

'Show me.'

We drew our blades in the way that I had learned from Meridius and I had taught Junius. The blade moves out of the scabbard and strikes in one movement with a cutting strike not as a cudgel. I could almost hear Meridius saying it, as I drew my weapon. Junius at my side was only marginally slower and the General seemed satisfied.

'Not bad. I see Meridius taught you well. Watch their eyes. Don't move ahead of time and don't kill anyone if there is no trouble. Mostly these things go off with no bloodshed but I need you near me if they try to kill me. Is that clear?'

'Clear as spring water, sir,' Junius said.

We waited in silence and the General peered at some scrolls in front of him without speaking. We could have been furniture for all the attention he paid us. The thought that anyone in our own army might want to kill Lucullus seemed strange to me. I supposed that he was right and that whatever was going to go on, would most likely be achieved without violence.

The waiting was soon over. Ten of the officers of the Lucullan legion arrived two or three at a time. Judging by their faces, they were not in a happy mood. Some were actively scowling and the others were silent as they entered. I recognised none of them.

There were four tribunes, the prefect and a number of senior Centurions. They were all armed similarly to us. The tent was large enough for each man to stand with his arms outstretched and not touch another so I estimated that if it came to a fight there was enough space to move.

'Gentlemen,' Lucullus said, 'you will be wondering why I have sent for you.'

Silence. One of the tribunes, shifted uncomfortably, but said nothing.

'Well it's a bit of good news!'

Still silence.

'Severus! Have you nothing to say? I have never known you as silent as this! Don't you remember the time when we organised those chariot races in Ephesus? You had plenty to say then.'

'This is a different time, General. It is a different place too,' Severus said, a man of medium height and a broad outline, the prefect of the Lucullan legion. He carried himself as a fighting man, squarely on his feet and a hand always close to his sword.

'Yes, you are right. Please sit down, if there are not enough seats my Orderly will bring more. I asked you here to discuss sensibly, what we are doing here. Frankly, I have heard some disturbing rumours about morale in the legion. I hoped you could enlighten me.'

The assembled men looked at each other. A tall broad Tribune approached the desk and looked Lucullus in the eye. His face was angry and although hidden by a dense black beard it betrayed his feelings as clearly as the moans of a dying man. His name was Barbatus.

'Look General, we have been talking.'

'Talking?' Lucullus said.

'Yes sir. We aren't happy about this war. The Senate we've heard are not behind you in this and most of our legion is made up of men who have served you long and well. They deserve to be able to retire as is their right, at the end of their term.'

'We? Who is "we"?'

'The men of the Lucullan sir.'

There was a murmur of agreement in the background. The General and the Tribune stared into each other's eyes in silence. A silence broken suddenly by Lucullus. He slammed the desk in front of him with his fist and raised his voice.

'You are not happy? Happy! Since when does a soldier demand to be happy to do his duty! Answer me! When?'

'It's true. The men want their due,' Barbatus said.

'I'll give them their due. I'll have them decimated at the first sound of dissent or sedition. Don't forget who pays your wages. I command this army and I decide where we go and when. This is not a meeting of the Senate. There is no voting here. I call the tune. I decide and you follow.'

Severus stepped forward again.

'General, you don't understand. No one wants to disobey orders. We just want you to listen to us. We want to go home.'

'We will fight the Armenians. They have sheltered an enemy of Rome. It is our duty to punish them and to take plunder from these enemies, who flaunt the will of our great city! If you cannot cope with military discipline then maybe you will have to learn.'

'General. If you oppose us there may be consequences,' Barbatus said.

'Are you threatening me?'

'If that is how you want to interpret it, yes.'

'I could have you all crucified for sedition and no one would argue with me. I am, however, a reasonable man and I don't want you to die. Jupiter himself knows how we have striven together to take Pontus, but you will obey me. Is that clear?'

Procillus entered the tent. It was not a good time to interrupt and both Lucullus and Barbatus, who had to turn around, glared at my commander.

'Sorry about this sir. I am late. Have I missed much?' he grinned in a disarming way.

Mouths opened but no one spoke as they watched Procillus walk slowly and apparently unconcerned to stand by my side. He looked me in the eye and there was a seriousness there I had never seen before in the young officer. Strangely, the interruption seemed to take a lot of the heat out of the rising tempers.

'Look men,' Lucullus said, ' We need to resolve this issue once and for all. Either you all agree to follow my command or you will be punished. I can make it no clearer than that.'

'May we confer sir?' Severus said.

'Of course,' the General said, with a wave of his hand.

The ten men turned and went to the far end of the command tent. They stood in a circle and spoke in low voices so that only occasional words could be heard.

They all turned at the same time and approached the General's desk. Barbatus spoke as if they had elected him spokesman.

'General, this is going nowhere. You show no spirit of compromise and all you do is give us orders, even now when we have asked you to reconsider what we think is a foolish plan. You leave us no choice.'

Lucullus had told us to watch their eyes. There is something about a man's eyes that tells you what he is going to do. I put my hand to my sword hilt in readiness.

Lucullus merely looked Barbatus in the eye. He stared hard and the Tribune looked away.

'There will be no violence. There will be no disobedience on the battlefield. I will have you all court martialed for mutiny unless I have your assurance that you will obey me!'

'We cannot do that sir,' Severus said, 'our men who we represent, need to go home. We owe it to them.'

With a quick movement, he drew his sword and it was clearly a signal for the others to do the same. I had counted the odds. There were four of us against ten of them and they were fighting-men like us.

Lucullus surprised me then. With a speed to rival my own, he threw the table forwards and it fell like a barrier between him and the nearest attacker. The mutineers had all drawn their weapons and I realised that there was only a slim chance we could kill them all.

Swords drawn, we stepped forward. Steel rang on steel. Lucullus stood at my side. I fended off a blow to my head and struck back. It was chaos. The interior of the tent became a turmoil of swords, arms and legs. I hit one man with my left fist and stabbed another with my sword. Junius seemed in his element. His large figure seemed to dominate. His sword flashed in the lamplight. He screamed abuse at his attackers. He punched, he kicked and he stabbed with his blade like a madman.

The lack of space limited the attackers, for they could not reach us easily across the fallen table. One man fell forward across the table, pushed from behind. I stabbed him in the neck and forgot him. I used my sword to defend Lucullus and myself. He fought too, like a fury next to me.

The fight lasted only seconds for the central tent pole collapsed suddenly, something hit me on the head and all went dark for a few moments. When I recovered, I was floundering with the weight of the leather tent pressing me flat against a dead man. I had trouble breathing.

After what seemed an interminably long time, a hand raised the edge of the tent. I looked up to find Calvus smiling down at me.

'Sorry about that Decurion. It was the only way to stop the fight before they killed you all.'

'We weren't doing so badly,' I said.

'Maybe not, there are three of them dead and one badly wounded. Are you hurt?'

'No, just my head, sir. What about the General and the others?' I was on all fours, struggling to get up.

'They're over there,' he said helping me to regain my feet to my huge embarrassment.

My fellow fighters were standing ten yards away, still holding their swords and staring fixedly at their attackers who were ringed by members of our cohort. There was blood on my hand and I wiped it on my tunic as I joined them. I must have been at the far end of the collapsed tent for they turned and Lucullus said, 'Thought we had lost you! Glad you made it. Any injuries?'

'No sir, just my pride.'

'You and Sinna have acquitted yourselves well lad. We would never have survived if Procillus hadn't had the idea to have half a century waiting outside the tent, but it was Calvus who made it happen when he collapsed the tent. They picked up the mutineers as they emerged. A neat job!'

There was a bump the size of a hen's egg on the back of my head and my neck was stiff. The dizziness passed off after only a few minutes, but for the rest of the day I had double vision intermittently and a terrible headache.

Lucullus looked at the conspirators. He said nothing and I assumed he was disgusted with them. Presently he approached Severus who was lying on the ground, a wound seeping blood from his chest.

'It wasn't worth it Severus. To die like a dog in this brawl. Why?'

'Like the lads, I have family and a place to go home to. I was ready to go when you announced the Armenian war. I would have gone to that war too, but I couldn't face the prospect of staying longer,' he coughed and bright red stained his lips, 'it just wasn't fair!'

'No one said life was fair, Severus.'

'No,' he coughed again weakly, 'Am I dying General?'

'Yes, but all your things will be sent home and I won't record today's events in your discharge sheet.'

It was too late. Severus heard nothing. He had stopped breathing. Lucullus looked up at me. His eyes seemed perturbed.

'He served me in the legions even before the Lucullan was formed. I knew him for eighteen years and had thought of him as a friend. What makes a man turn like that?'

'I don't know General,' was all I could think to say.

'Calvus! Have these men crucified. I want the entire army to march past them when we leave this morning. Use proper nails this time, I don't want them tied to the crosses like the last lot; it took them days to die. Oh, and pop a coin in Severus' mouth for me - old times' sake you know.'

Lucullus looked at me. I think he wanted reassurance but there was nothing I could say to a General who had ordered his own men crucified. I was only a Decurion. There was no new bond of friendship either, between such a man and I, even if we had fought together and I knew it. The soft tone he had used with the dying Severus was clearly only a mantle, for the man beneath was seemingly made of stone.

I noticed my stomach rumbling. I turned to leave. It occurred to me that I had not eaten yet that day. I walked through the camp, my head aching. I had a strange feeling that I might have been on the wrong side in that tent. Lucullus had ordered the deaths of all those men, men he had brought to Pontus and Armenia, men he had fought with, lived with. A single command and he had condemned them all to a painful slow death. It could have been me having the nails driven into my arms, begging for a quick death only for a bit of luck.

Lucullus was everything his reputation heralded. He was hard, driven and cruel but the contradictions engendered by his treatment of the Primum Pila, Severus, seemed the strangest thing of all. Lucullus appeared more complex than any I had yet met in the legions. I did not know what to make of him. The look in his eye when he had looked at me was a cold one, yet he had not seemed as emotionless as he had acted. Perhaps that was what separated him from the rest of us. A general cannot afford to allow sentiment to obscure the necessities of command and I was beginning to understand now what the pressures of command could do to a man.

Chapter V

"Lovely and honourable it is to die for one's country." - Horace

The siege of Ionium was disappointing. We arrived after six weeks of marching. That part was uneventful. When the five legions and the auxiliaries arrived, the small city of rebels shut all the gates. They would not even send out an emissary. What they hoped to achieve I do not comprehend. We sat outside the walls in the hot sunshine. The city itself was made of stone buildings with thatched or wooden roofs. Its water came from wells within the city walls and technically, they might have held out for a long time, possibly months.

'What's happening?' I asked Calvus as we waited.

'Those rebels have shut themselves up and I suppose they think we'll march away. They don't know the General.'

'A siege of the city would take a while.'

'No, a few ballista shots and the walls will come down. We only need a single breach in the walls and our men will get in. Wait and see.'

'They're made of stone, ballistae won't penetrate stone.'

'These walls are so old and badly made they would crumble if you just hit them with your fist. I was talking to one of the engineers earlier. They'll fall like they were made of sand.'

'Junius thinks they don't have more than a thousand men. I don't understand why we're here with a massive army.'

'I think it's because if we march to Tigranocerta with a rebel city behind us, it can be used by the enemy as a rallying point and they could raise an army here behind us.'

'What will happen to the city?'

'It will be razed. Lucullus is like that. He will make an example of this place to discourage any further dissent.'

'What about the hearts and minds thing?'

'That was in Sinope. We need Sinope because it is on the coast and a rich port. We don't need a rebellious little place like Ionium.'

'I don't understand why they don't understand that they're beaten. They can't hope to win against Rome.'

'Maybe they're braver than we all thought. Maybe it's freedom that drives them. Some men would rather die than be defeated.'

'The Pontics in Sinope weren't like that.'

'No but they hated us. It was clear to me every time I walked in the street. You got a sort of cold politeness but you could see in their eyes they were just waiting for us to suffer some great defeat and they would all be up in arms against us.'

'I know what you mean. Our landlord was like that. Very friendly and respectful but you got the feeling he would sell us out any minute if there was a chance we would lose.'

'It surprises me often that the whole empire is built on fear. The lands we conquer have to be ruled with iron discipline; otherwise it would all fall apart.'

'Particularly true in the east, my Greek tutor used to tell me.'

'Yes, Syria and the area around Jerusalem are the worst. We've never had real peace or cooperation in that area.'

'Maybe it's religious?'

'So they tell me. I'm going to see to the water supplies, it's going to be a hot day for marching and some of our chaps don't have the common sense to carry enough water. It's like being a schoolteacher. You have to tell them how to wipe their arses half the time.'

The wait was soon over. We were only there for a few hours. Lucullus, impatient to take the army to Tigranocerta, decided not to wait and he left half a legion, the locally recruited one as I recall, to bring the rebel town to its knees and the rest of us marched on. We travelled at a fantastic pace and the end of the summer passed quickly as we neared the Taurus Mountains on which Capadocia rests.

I learned later when the vexillation rejoined us that the legionaries who broke the walls fought a little battle and annihilated the entire population, men, women and children. When I heard that, I was glad we did not stay, for the thought of it filled me with disgust. I did not know how I would have coped with killing women and children and was glad to have that responsibility pass me by.

Marcus launched no more attempts on my life but he was never far away, he and Bassus. I would see them looking in my direction and conferring at times.

We spoke on a few occasions but we confined conversation to mundane matters in a superficially polite way. I had no evidence that he was responsible for the attack outside the palisade and he never mentioned the Amulet.

I asked around about Bassus. I learned that he was an experienced soldier with a long service record but a reputation for dishonesty and deceit. He had once been court-marshalled for supposedly falsifying accounts but nothing had come of it and he had continued in his role as Centurion. No one had seen him fight, but he had to have some abilities in that sphere, for Centurions did not last long in active service if they could not hold their own in a battle.

From Ionium it took a further month to march to Tigranocerta. Sextillius had already spent two months harassing the gathering Armenian forces with his legion and Murena had taken one legion and begun a siege of the city itself.

Tigranocerta was a fortress. The outlying towns were easy to enter and empty of men and plunder. The royal Armenian palace of Tigranes the Great was in the centre of the town and the town had massive stone walls. Tigranes had left his considerable fortune and some of his wives and children there. Lucullus had obviously decided to besiege the city to draw him in. It stood against a backdrop of a high cliff and the walls did not start to rise until you had walked up a steep slope. It looked impenetrable to me as we approached the camp that Murena had made. I heard later that the city fell in the end. It was not by force but treachery by a group of Greek merchants who lived there. They opened the gates to Murena and it was all over.

Murena's camp was not large enough to accommodate us and we had the job of extending it southwards to accommodate the army, yet leave it in such a way that after the main body left, it could safely be reconstituted. We started by elongating the walls towards the valley. It was a huge task. We had arrived with the better part of five legions and almost every one of us had to help dig the trenches and erect the palisades. It was a scene reminiscent of an ant's nest. The ground was thick with us, men moving, digging, carrying and swearing. All soldiers complain, whether it is during a march or during drills or in this case when doing the military engineering that made Roman Legions the disciplined fighting machines that they were. If I had a sestertius for every swear word or complaint I would be a rich man now.

The camp was in the end a good one, sturdy and liable to last a long time but we knew we would not be there long.

That we would leave soon was clear to us all. Rumours fly in an army and that was as true in our legion as in the others. We heard that Tigranes had gathered his troops and they were coming up from the south. The rumoured numbers of our opposition varied but the scouts who had seen them estimated that there were upwards of a hundred and fifty thousand to our sixty.

It seems strange to look back on it. My initial reaction was one of relief, for we had heard that there was double that number of Armenians preparing to face us.

It took only the first evening to prepare the fortifications and make our camp. Junius and I stood and looked out at the plain below us to the south while the men of our cohort were digging the trenches.

There was a wide plain before us. Rocky hills at intervals dotted the plain and a small, fast-flowing, deep river flowed through the middle. As we looked, we could see dust raised in the distance, as if by a large number of men or horses at the far end of the plain.

We sent a runner to the command tent and waited. As we looked, we could start to make out the approaching enemy. I estimated three thousand heavy cavalry approaching and by the time that Calvus joined us, it was possible to make them out clearly. They rode in squadrons of approximately two hundred men and they began to fill the tree-lined horizon.

It looked daunting to me. The Armenian cavalry had an evil reputation, for their armour protected them from enemy cavalry spears and the sheer weight of them made them formidable when they charged. They could buckle and break an infantry line with ease.

Calvus had the cornicens sound and the whole cohort drew up in a much shorter time than I would have credited, considering that we had marched for a whole day before starting the fortification.

'Well Veridius,' he slapped me on the back with a large hand, 'we'll find out what you can do in a battle now, can't we?'

'Battle sir?'

'Yes, we're going to take these horse puppies and turn them first into running foot soldiers and then into dead foot soldiers!'

'I thought the cavalry would deal with them.'

'No, these Armenian heavy horse have no armour on their legs and thighs and with a sword, we can take them much easier than you might think. All we have to do is withstand the initial charge and keep together. Then we stab at the horse' legs and the riders thighs. It has been shown to work over and over again.'

'Do the opposition know that?'

'Probably not. They think they're invincible because of their armour. They only have lances and no swords because they are so heavy with their scale armour, they can't wield a sword. Silly, really.'

'Who is doing the fighting?'

'Just the Ninth. I don't know why we have been chosen. Murena's legion has been resting all day. Not the sort of thing that you argue about though. Lucullus didn't look in a very good mood. He's still arguing with his officers about what to do. He wants to stay put in the camps and then wait for the Armenians. I don't understand, but he's a very intelligent man and he reads armies like a scholar reads Greek!'

'I can read Greek.'

He looked sideways at me to see if I was joking and smiled.

'Well you're wasted with this bloody army. No bugger here can spell his name even in Latin!'

He laughed as if he had made a funny joke. I could not see anything funny and looked blankly at him. I think we were both nervous, for it was a strange conversation. I learned much later in life that men under pressure avoid the tension by talking about things, any things that takes their mind off their imminent death or victory.

'I had better join my men,' I said and looked back at the soldiers filing from the camp.

I called to my contubernium and mustered them and we joined our century. The whole Ninth Legion formed up in front of the camp.

We stood ready for the arrival of the enemy cavalry. There were five thousand of us counting some auxiliary troops, who were on the flanks. They were light auxillia and they had spears and small light shields. They were always particularly useful against cavalry. They were very fit men and young. They could run fast and deploy with their spears to daunt opposition cavalry. Our job was to hold the cavalry and fight as Calvus had described and the auxillia would come around the flanks to finish them off. That was the theory but in practise things often turn out in a different way.

The legion stood in centuries each eight by ten in staggered ranks. The space between each century was backed by the middle of the one behind. There were effectively no gaps. We stood before the fortifications and waited. I could feel my heart beating, mouth dry and sweat on my brow. I could see the approaching cavalry draw near and they were walking their horses now.

At five hundred yards, they walked patiently while their horse recovered their breath. A blown horse is useless to cavalry and charging with a horse that is out of breath is suicide; they would stop as soon as they ran out of breath and the rider would be doomed.

They reached pila range and we launched our first javelins. The pilae had much less effect than we had expected, deflected by the heavy armour. The riders came on.

The second wave of pilae had more effect but that may have been the range. Suddenly and without a signal, they raised their horse's heads and charged. They were twenty yards from us and accelerating. The sight of the advancing armoured cavalry drained my confidence but we relied on our training. The front ranks steadied themselves. The second rank had their swords out and their shields ready, none of us wavered.

The advancing cavalry did not form a wedge. They chose to charge in a full frontal, flat line, ten or so horses deep. If we had had spears, we could have dug the shafts into the ground and let them impale themselves. We had shields and swords and we had to take the onslaught.

They hit our front rank with volcanic force. The weight of their armour took them full into the second rank in places. The second line of horsemen followed through but many stumbled over the bodies of our men and the obstruction imposed by the fallen horsemen in front.

We held the line. Shields planted firmly in front of us, most of the legionaries held firm. We stabbed and slashed at the cavalry's legs and thighs. Blood ran. Horses, legs wounded, reared. Riders fell to the ground only to be spitted by legionaries' swords. The noise was cataclysmic, a cacophony of metal ringing on metal, horses whinnying, men screaming.

The cavalry soon lost their forward momentum. The second row of legionaries advanced. A wedge of Armenians had split our century. We had to turn to the side to fight. I held my shield up and pushed forward. A big horse reared in front of me. I felt the impact of its hoof on my shield. It was like a pile driver. My sword stabbed upwards as I was pushed back into my men. I saw blood run from a wound in the horse's neck above its armour. It fell and the rider was swallowed up in the melee.

The Armenian horses began to panic. They either backed off or turned and ran. The horsemen behind, whose flashing spears did not deter the frightened beasts, impeded them. As soon as they turned, our swords stabbed into legs and hamstrung more and more of them. It was a sad, cruel thing, but damaging a steed renders the rider powerless. The Armenians were so weighed down by their armour that once they were unhorsed they were powerless to defend themselves.

The cavalry line withdrew and tried to form up again a hundred paces away. Our archers harried them. Their armour still protected them. The arrows inflicted little damage.

I stood and looked at them, breathing hard. We waited for the next charge but none came. I heard a trumpet blast to my left and realised why the Armenians had not renewed their assault. I craned my neck to see.

Two thousand of our Thracian cavalry had mustered on our left flank. Once the initial Armenian charge was over, they were ready to attack. The Thracians were light cavalry and apart from small shields and light leather armour, they wielded curved swords and short spears. They did not use their spears this time but charged sword in hand.

We witnessed what was to us a strange and beautiful scene. I thought there was an elegance in the way our cavalry manipulated their steeds. They formed a wedge and rode straight at the Armenians. Tight, densely packed like a nail driven into wood. They hit them hard; their shields deflected the Armenian spears. The Thracians used their swords to good effect. The Armenians were most useful for a frontal assault. It was their weight that carried them on in battle. Unhorsed, they were clumsy and even in the saddle they were slow.

It took moments only for our Thracians to cut their way through the Armenian cataphractii. We cheered until our throats were too dry to continue and then we beat our shields with our swords. They rode on then turned and charged again at their disarrayed foes. I could see Publius Crassus their commander, at the apex of the wedge. His red plume waving, his bloodied sword in hand, a scream on his snarling lips. He was the very embodiment of a true fighting Roman.

The Armenians were in turmoil. They had just reformed when the first light cavalry charge disrupted them. Now, in total confusion, they faced another charge.

They wavered and then ran. They rode for all they were worth away from these swift lightly armed furies. The Thracians, unencumbered, pursued them fast. They cut down those Armenians with the ease of a scythe cutting corn, littering the whole plain with the wreckage of their heavy armoured destruction. Only a handful of the three thousand escaped and we only took fifty of the riders alive. It was a triumph of speed over weight.

'Still alive then Decurion?'

I turned and saw Calvus behind me.

'Yes sir. I'm just a bit puzzled by their attack. What was it all for?'

'I think it was an attempt to drive us away from Tigranocerta or maybe strengthen the garrison there. They seem to think their cataphractii are invincible,'

'If they had swords and armour on their legs they might be I suppose.'

'Well they haven't and I think today's effort will only serve to improve our men's morale.'

'I hope so. How many men do you think Tigranes will have?'

'Well let's see. We have about seventy thousand all told including the Thracian cavalry. They must have by all accounts, about twice that number but they're conscripts you know. They'll be easy killing.'

'Are they near?'

'Near enough Laddie,' Calvus said. He smiled and walked away leaving me none the wiser.

Titus stood next to me. He had sustained a small wound on his head, which was bleeding down the side of his face.

'Press on it damn you!' I said feeling irritable for it was the third time I had told him to staunch the bleeding.

He looked at me with a blank expression and sat down with his arms by his sides. His mouth was open and he was staring straight ahead.

I removed his helmet and pressed on the wound to stop the bleeding. I knelt at his side and tore a strip from his tunic, with which I fashioned a rudimentary bandage. It was then that I realised that underneath the wound, there was a softness and I could feel bone fragments crunching beneath my fingers. It should have been hard. It dawned upon me that this must have been a worse wound than I had thought for part of his skull must have been shattered. I had two of the lads take him to the surgeon's tent. They staggered away one on each side, supporting him under the arms, pleased to be able to escape the clearing up operations that the rest of the legion now had to engage in.

Leaving bodies and dead horses to rot so close to our camp would have encouraged disease and it was a strict rule that bodies were to be burned and all weapons captured from the enemy, either destroyed or collected for further use.

I took my contubernium and began the tedious operations. I was tired, bloodstained and dejected. A depressed mood had come on me in the last week and I ruminated constantly on the Pontic Queen. I wondered how she was, I wondered if she was happy and mostly I wondered if she still thought about me. I had no great hopes of seeing her again and it was painful. I had constant flashbacks to that last night in Sinope and the wonder of making love to someone I was in love with.

That she had wanted me too amazed and pleased me for I had never imagined that she might have felt that way. She had risked her life and her position for that one night with me. What could make a woman risk all? It had to be love. It puzzled me. Could I really be so lucky? I touched the amulet. It had to be the amulet that brought me such good fortune.

The experience of that one night with Hypsicratea had changed me. I felt more confident somehow and held my head that little bit higher amongst the men. I felt I carried something within me, secret and powerful – the love of a wonderful woman. I could look down on the rest of the world as if I owned it. It was an exaltation.

Junius was working only a short way away and as I and my legionaries dragged a horse's carcass to the pile of bodies I called to him.

'Well Junius, you seem to have made it through the skirmish unscathed!'

'Yes, my little friend. You seem none the worse for it too,' he said smiling.

'I lead a charmed life,' I said fiddling with the amulet again, 'Titus has been hit on the head and wasn't right so I sent him to the surgeon. I hope it isn't too serious, he was one of my more experienced men,' I said.

'Well if they hit him on his head they picked the least important part of him!'

I scowled at Junius for it seemed a poor joke and continued with the removal of the bodies. We lit a huge fire and burned all, using oil and pitch. The stench was unbearable and we were glad to quit the place as evening fell.

Chapter VI

"Festina lente" (Make haste slowly) - Augustus Caesar

They came in the end. A massive army. They occupied all of the far side of the plain below us. Their numbers amazed me. Looking at such a large force makes it difficult to count how many men there are. Calvus taught me that if you break them down into groups and count one formation then count the number of similar groups you could work out a rough estimate of numbers. Some soldiers use their fist, sight a group, and use the number of fists to calculate how many hundreds they number.

They filled the landscape. It took half a day for them to arrive. Despite all that I had heard of the Armenians, they looked well organised to me. In the distance, they looked formidable. They kept their formations well and they were organised in ranks and phalanxes. I could tell they had drilled well for they moved easily in their formations, but of course, that told me nothing of their morale since as even well organised troops can rout.

There were flights of birds in their wake, no doubt looking for food in the churned up earth. The dust took what remained of the day to settle, for it was a windless autumn day.

Junius and I stood together looking down across the plain where the cavalry charge had taken place and watched as the huge army began the process of encampment. They stayed on their side of the river, there was only one ford between us, and that was to the east.

'Enough of them for you Junius?' I said.

'Yes, I think so. They more than outnumber us by two to one. Look over there to their right flank. Can you see those horses? More cataphractii. There must be nine or ten thousand of them, more than we have men in a legion!'

'I get the impression that the General wants to stay put in the camps. He may be waiting to starve them out. An army that big can't be easy to supply.'

'I don't understand Lucullus. We've marched all this way and now we just sit in the fortified camps and wait. Won't we run out of supplies too?'

'Doubt it. We have stores to last a long time according to Procillus.'

'You seem very friendly with the Tribune. Don't forget he's an officer will you? If you offend him you could land in real trouble.'

'Not much chance of that. I may have got drunk with him once but that doesn't mean we're friends. If we were I wouldn't have to call him "sir" all the time.'

'If we do go out to meet this lot in battle, do you think we can defeat them?'

'I don't know. Our soldiers are tough; but two to one? These aren't barbarians from Gaul; they're fighting men and a lot like us to look at.'

'You aren't reassuring me any.'

'I can't reassure you if I'm petrified myself, can I?'

'Well one thing we can count on; the battle, if it happens, won't be today.'

'No, I guess not, let's get some food.'

We turned and walked towards our tent. There seemed to be an air of tension in the camp. People spoke in lower voices; men looked quieter and more serious, but moved quickly about their business. I had the same feeling of apprehension among the men as I had noticed before the mutiny. Yet, although there was anxiety, the men did all the same things that normally go on in the camp. They cooked, ate, used the latrines, drilled and practised with weapons. The major difference was the absence of laughter. When laughter was occasionally heard, men looked at the perpetrators as if they had done something unforgivable, something antisocial.

Even the horses began to pick up the tautness in the general feel of the camp. They became less controllable, less co-operative. One morning there was a thick grey cloudbank above us and a sudden thunderstorm arose. Sheet lightning lit the gloom. A horse bolted and ran amok around the camp, knocking over tents and cook-stands. The storm cleared almost as quickly as it had started and some cavalrymen gradually brought the horse under control. Some of the men spoke of it as an omen to the complete and utter derision of Calvus and the other Centurions.

We made a fire and heated some water. We put in the wheat flour and the barley and stirred until it thickened. Junius had some salt and I had some herbs, noticed on the field outside. It made a gruesome porridge, but one we had become accustomed to on the journey. We had taken the long way round and there had been plenty of time for us to get back into the old military habit of living on porridge. Our campaign food may not have been very appetizing but it gave us energy to fight and march and the chance of dysentery was minimal.

A horse could make Sinope in three weeks and a wagon in six using the northern coast road. We had had to travel through Ionium and the army moved much slower than a lone rider or wagon. The Armenians controlled the northern routes and it must have been galling for Lucullus to sweep so far south in his approach to Tigranocerta to avoid being ambushed or harassed. Even so, he had marched us at a speed normally regarded as phenomenal.

The meal was one of those that seemed considerably less appetizing once it had assuaged our hunger and we both looked at each other with the same thought in mind.

'I wonder how old Titus is getting on.' I said.

'He'll be all right. It was only a head wound and I'm sure he'll recover.'

'I'm not so sure. The bone of his skull seemed to crunch beneath my fingers when I pressed.'

'Never heard of it. It was only a small wound, you said.'

'Let's go and see.'

'Where is he?'

'Surgeon's tent.'

We walked to the area where we thought it might be. I was never certain exactly where, for I had never needed a surgeon when travelling with the legion. Junius knew. He knew everything about soldiering. I sometimes think he was an ideal soldier. He rarely complained and he was handy in a fight. It may have been because he always thought about the boredom of his life before on the farm. I know he had hated it and he often told me that spending the rest of his life wielding a pitchfork would have driven him to distraction. Our military life had given him the skills and confidence, which he would never have accumulated on the farm in Aretium. I followed him.

Titus lay on a straw palette outside the hospital tent. There was blood on the ground around him and none of it was his. He looked reasonably normal apart from a bloody bandage of rough linen on hi head. He lay on his back and stared straight ahead. His fingers were fiddling with his tunic.

'Hey there, Titus how are you feeling?' Junius said.

There as no reply. He looked at us briefly but did not move. It was as if his powers of speech had disappeared. He seemed to move his legs and arms without difficulty but did not appear to recognise us at all. He did not acknowledge us in any way.

I went to find an Orderly or maybe the surgeon. I found them both with a soldier who was having a leg removed. The orderlies were holding him down and the surgeon had a saw in his hand. The operation took minutes only. The screams of the amputee lent a surreal atmosphere to the bizarre scene. Between screams you could hear birds singing against a background of cicadas humming, an incongruous and surreal sound in that setting. I could not look and I turned away. I vomited. My guts churned and I lost the porridge that I had invested so much time in making.

The surgeon had finished, he was wiping his hands on a bloodstained cloth when I asked him about Titus.

'Excuse me sir, can I ask you about one of the casualties. He's one of my men.'

'Who are you?' the surgeon said. He dropped his patient's leg onto a pile of amputated limbs between us.

'Decurion Veridius Scapula sir.'

'Decurion eh? You look too young to be an officer.'

'Really sir? I was promoted early.'

'Done something brave have you?' the emphasis was on "brave", and he spoke slowly in a deep voice.

'No sir. Just my duty.'

'Duty? Well that's just marvellous! Marvellous! I like a man who does his duty. I have been doing my duty too. I cut men's limbs from their bodies, I sew up wounds and try to sow their bowels back into their abdomens and you know what? Most of them die. Makes you wonder why I do it doesn't it?'

'Yes sir. Er, no sir.'

'Are you sober?' he said poking me in the chest with a bloodied finger.

'Yes, sir of course.'

'Well you don't seem sober. I'm not, so maybe that explains it. A sober man can't do my job you know.'

I looked at the surgeon. He was old by our standards, maybe fifty years of age and old blood had spattered his full grey beard and long hair. He was as tall as I was and he limped a little as he walked with me towards Titus.

'This man has a head injury.'

'I know that sir. Will he recover? He doesn't seem to recognise us.'

'Robbed of the power of speech, that's why.'

'Does he not understand us sir?'

'Of course he does by Jupiter! He is mute. The thing that hit him on the head has mashed the front of his brain to a pulp. He is mute. Not speechless, just mute. He doesn't want to speak or move. The Ancient Egyptians describe this type of injury well, in their texts. Did you know that? They knew more than we do a thousand years ago.'

'Will he recover?'

'It was an open injury. This type of wound is deep and if it suppurates the evil airs will enter his body, spread to the rest of his brain and he will die. It is up to the Gods. I have sewn the wound and now there is nothing I can do apart from say a prayer to Hypocrites and drink a bit more wine. Most of them die. Not much hope I'm afraid.'

'There is nothing we can do?'

'I think that a sacrifice to Jupiter was once beneficial in a similar case when I was in Africa. The man did recover. Lost his wits of course. Had a strange habit of passing urine in people's wine cups but you could try sacrificing a white bull. Were you close?'

'Not close, friendly.'

'Don't make friends in the army. Then you won't grieve when they get killed.'

'Thank you sir,' I said feeling not much the wiser and rather depressed by the conversation.

As Junius and I made our way back to our tent, I began to feel the whole point of taking Titus to a medical man was factitious. The surgeon seemed to me to be a drunk and appeared to talk constant rubbish. If these were the men we depended upon when we were injured, I hoped I would be unscathed or dead rather than anything between.

* * *

On the third day, Lucullus addressed us. He sent for the officers and we congregated in the square of the Lucullan legion, where Lucullus had his command tent.

We numbered almost five hundred men, ranked from Legate to Decurion and we stood in the groups into which such men naturally fall. Each legion in a separate group standing to attention with the Decurions in the hindmost rank.

Lucullus emerged from his tent. Cicero opened the flap and Murena followed Lucullus out. They mounted the hastily erected Podium. Typical of the legions, even such quickly erected structures looked as if they could stand for a thousand years, solid, firm and stable.

The General wore only a tunic and I guessed that he was posing as a humble man before his troops who I suspected were still vaguely mutinous.

'Men,' he said in that deep voice of his, 'we face a multitude.'

There was silence as the unease of the situation percolated through the assembled officers.

'I know you are all ill at ease. We face being outnumbered and we face heavy armoured cavalry. Mark my words! This is nothing to us! We are Romans. We are trained and the most powerful weapon we have, is not our Gladii. We have Roman discipline. It will keep our ranks together. It will allow us to cut down these weak Armenians! They won't have the stomach for a real fight!'

He paused again. I was used to the dramatic effect of a pause from the General at the right time. It was impressive. It commanded attention and underscored his next acclamations. Gennadius had told me that all of Rome's generals had lessons, not just in pronunciation but also in oratory skills and I half smiled as I recognised the skills of an orator in my General. I guessed that both the General and I were taught by a Greek in the first place and the irony did not escape me. I felt as if I was the only one of those close to me, who understood the technique as well as the content.

'Tomorrow we will see blood. We will take the fight to the enemy! We march in the morning and we will be victorious!'

He did not wait for applause or any form of recognition. It was not his style. He left the podium and re-entered his tent, followed by his Legates and five prefects.

I sometimes look back on that speech. It was short and to the point, but his speeches were never as powerful as some of the generals I have since heard. That Lucullus could encourage his men was obvious, but I think it was the way that he led battles that endeared him to his men. He was not a man who would hang back and he led from the front, something that is seen only rarely in armies and then only with the greatest generals.

There was little to do that day. The army was in preparation. I slept for two hours or so in the heat of the afternoon. I was tired from the day before and I had much to ruminate over as I lay on my bed.

When I awoke, it was late afternoon. Junius was sharpening his sword outside the tent and I felt as rough as a badger's backside, as I emerged from the leather tent opening.

'Morning!' I said.

'It's not morning you dolt! It's afternoon and if you'd managed to grace us with your presence you would have heard the fears and trepidations of your contubernium, expressed in a drunken soliloquy outside your very own sleeping quarters.'

'What are you twittering about; you oversized excuse for a farmer?'

'Just that all our men were here and they're very worried not to say petrified by the size of the Armenian army and particularly the amount of heavy cavalry they have to face.'

'My men? They're usually cast iron.'

'Maybe so, but they've never done any fighting apart from the Armenian cavalry charge the other day and they're wetting themselves.'

'Rubbish!'

'No really. They're all doom and gloom and want to write letters home and the like, to reassure themselves that things will be alright.'

'I'll talk to them. How's Titus?'

'I went to the surgeon's tent and enquired. He's just the same. The surgeon said it could take months or even years before he recovers but the wound may get infected and then it will be the end for old Titus.'

'I wish you would stop referring to him as old. He isn't much older than we are.'

'No, but he's been in this army longer than we have. Maybe they'll pension him off?' Junius said.

'I hope so for his sake. Any news about tomorrow?'

'No, just that we're marching out with all our normal battle gear and then there seems to be no particular plan as far as I can make out. I don't understand the General's strategy at all. The enemy will think we're running away not getting ready for a fight.'

'It's a worry, I must admit. I know the General is experienced and very successful so far with this campaign but if I didn't know better I'd think he's lost it.'

'I know what you mean. I have a bad feeling about tomorrow.'

'May as well sharpen our weapons anyway. It looks as if we'll need them. Two to one? Doesn't seem very hopeful does it?' I said.

'Calvus seems to think it won't matter at all.'

'Well, he would hardly say it did, would he?'

'No, I suppose not. I wish we had Meridius here.'

'Why, I thought you got on well with Procillus?'

'I do, but he's always so damned cheerful. It gets on my nerves,' Junius said.

'Don't worry. Tomorrow will bring what it will bring and after, we can all be cheerful. I think we'll win and I for one trust Lucullus.'

Chapter VII

"Without a sign, his sword the brave man draws, and asks no omen but his country's cause." - Homer

The sun was rising fast as we left our camps. For an autumn day, it was too hot and too humid. My men had been unhappy to take to the field because it was the anniversary of a great defeat in Roman history, when the Cimbrians had destroyed Caepio and his army a hundred years before. Soldiers are a superstitious lot. Calvus told me that when the men asked Lucullus to delay for that reason, in case the anniversary meant bad luck, he merely commented that if it were bad luck, then they would fight and change it into a day of good luck. It did not improve morale but clearly demonstrated his iron will.

We created a lot of dust as we left and it must have looked impressive. The Armenians immediately drew up their forces across the little river that cut the plain in half. Their line was twice the length of ours and much deeper. I could see their phalanxes of spearmen and their cohorts of infantry in straight well organised rows. It made me feel uncomfortable, but I knew that our main advantage, apart from discipline, was our versatility. We could turn, fight, and re-order our ranks very quickly, thanks to long months of training and drill.

Phalanxes cannot do this. They lumber along and have trouble keeping formation if they have to manoeuvre. It was the main reason why the Greeks never managed to defeat our legions. All we used to do was attack from both flanks and the phalanx would fold.

As we emerged and formed up on the plain, I looked ahead at the enemy. They were dark men, burned by the sun, hardened by it perhaps. Their little chin beards seemed absurdly foppish but their weapons glinted and were as hard and sharp as ours, I was sure. I could smell them. Their odour carried on the breeze that came from the north. It was a smell of leather, sweat and something sweet overlaying it. A tall man stood in front of one phalanx. He looked directly at me his dark eyes peering out from beneath his black helmet. I recognised that look in his eyes. It was a look of fear. It calmed me then, for I realised that I was not scared. I knew I would kill and I was strong and fit. I also knew I had to return to Pontus where my heart lay and I would not die this day. It could not be my destiny.

Behind their serried ranks were forested slopes where the ground rose. They stood still as if they had complete confidence in the outcome but the look in that Armenian's eyes had told me much. An army can be big but once fear gets a grip nothing can make its men stay and fight.

Calvus tapped me on the shoulder with his vine cane.

'Well?'

'Sorry, sir?'

'The Armenians? What do you think of them?'

'They look well organised.'

'Drivel man! At least half of them are workmen and conscripts. It looks to me as if the only real fighting men they have are those infantry in the phalanxes. They'll rely on their heavy cavalry. Over confident I call it!'

'If you say so, sir. Are we attacking across the river?'

'I don't know yet. I'm waiting for instructions. Looks as if we'll be on the left flank as usual, with the Thracian cavalry to our left. The generals seem to think that since we defeated the cataphractii before, we can do it again.'

'There's a lot more of them this time though I think they look scared.'

'They have reason to fear. I'm here! Maybe we'll be waiting here for them to attack. If they have to cross the river they'll be out of formation and probably easier to take on.'

Calvus walked away towards our Tribune, Procillus. He was talking to the cavalry commander. Although the cavalry were not Romans, their commander was. He was a young man called Publius Crassus. Everyone knew him because his father was one of the richest men in Rome. Why he would waste his only son on the army I could not understand. The army seemed to me to be an organisation made up of people who enlisted because they had no other choices. Even I was not there because I had volunteered.

I fiddled with my amulet. The silver wire holding the two halves had shown little wear and tear over the years. It had never left me, so I supposed it contained luck, as well as the family secret. I gained comfort from having it there. It must have been lucky I reasoned, or the corsairs would have seen it, even though it was so well hidden from sight beneath the neckline of my tunic.

My thoughts strayed to Marcus. I could understand his motives in trying to obtain the amulet. I occurred to me then that the only way anyone would have known that it contained the whereabouts of the deeds, would have been to make one of my parents reveal it. Perhaps they tortured them before they killed them. I tried to think of something else. I was getting angry and it was disturbing my concentration.

The orders came suddenly. We were all to march east along the river. The march was at a double pace. We were in full battle gear and we seemed to be running away. I could not work out what was going on. There, before us stood an enormous army and we were ready to take them on, then without warning, we were marching away at speed.

The grass beneath our feet was dry and the ground cracked and hard, for it had been a long summer. The unevenness of the ground made it hard to stay in formation but we did the best we could and after we had passed the length of the opposing army, around a bend in the river, we formed up again. None of us rankers knew what was going to happen.

Lucullus suddenly rode down to where we had stopped. To our consternation, he dismounted and stood next to our prefect and Procillus who were at the head of our column. I could not hear the conversation because of the distance but the intention was clear. The whole Ninth turned to face the far bank and we marched by columns of whole centuries across the small ford that lay at that end of the field at the bend in the river.

Opposite us, there was a hillock occupied by the Armenian heavy cavalry. As each century crossed, they formed up alongside the riverbank. The Thracian horse came next. Once they were across, Lucullus ordered them to attack the heavy cavalry of the opposing army's right flank.

Lucullus turned to the Ninth and said in a voice we could all hear, 'see that hill,' indicating where the heavy cavalry stood, 'we will take it. Don't be afraid of their cavalry. No javelins. Use your swords and we will triumph. They will run.'

He finished speaking. We were off. The cornicens sounded. We followed our General. I thought he had gone mad. He was in a frenzy. Lucullus, to my total amazement led a full charge of the first and second cohorts of our legion. A shield bearer backed him. Procillus and our prefect Manius Ostorius were on either side. We followed him at a fast pace, swords drawn ready for the fight. The Thracian cavalry had arrived first and in a tight wedge had proceeded to attack the Armenian cavalry. It was an unexpected move. Even Lucullus' own men were puzzled at first. We ran up the steep hill, still in formation, ready to fight the Armenian cataphractii.

Our next surprise was that they were not there. I could see that the cataphractii had turned and fled. Lucullus who had his sword drawn stood on the top of the hill shouting, 'We have overcome! We have overcome!' or some such thing. It is hard to recall all the details, for battles are always confusing.

The rest of the Ninth Legion followed and now stood bristling on the hill. The Armenian heavy infantry had to turn to their right to face us. It was a slow and cumbersome manoeuvre. There was time enough for us to advance towards them whilst they were in disarray.

Lucullus again ran forward sword in hand, like a madman. His scale armour reflected the sun and I could not help thinking he looked like some divine prince, bright, shining, but mad all the same. I caught up with him and Calvus was at my side. There was no time to form up, for the General was swinging his sword and hacking into the heavily armoured phalanx. They tried to fight back but we were on their right sides and they were unable to use their shields effectively to fight us off.

The phalanx had long spears and they turned levelling them at us, stabbing at faces and chests. The General skidded on the dusty earth and fell onto his back in his haste. A long spear reached forwards at Lucullus. I was at his side. I deflected the weapon with my shield and reached down helping my General to his feet. He looked me in the eye. There was a wild look on his face and his eyes were wide and bright.

'Kill them, Decurion,' he shouted, and we both smiled for I knew he recognised me. We both stood behind my shield. We used our swords to deflect the long pikes of the enemy phalanx. We got close in under the wicked points. Stabbing thrusting, pushing. Men fell before us, bloodied and screaming. The smell of blood was in my nostrils. It inflamed me but it was with a cold, grim, silent determination, controlled and careful.

Our two cohorts backed us. I heard Procillus laugh as he fought. I wondered briefly, where Junius was in all this carnage. I caught a glimpse of him standing with his contubernium, covered in blood and swinging, stabbing with his sword as men fell before him. The din of shield on shield and swords ringing was almost deafening and there were screams all around us. I smelled the same blood-smell as I had on the bireme, but felt no battle-rage as I had fighting the corsairs.

Seeing the heavy troops cut down made more of the Armenians try to turn. This only resulted in further disruption of their formations and their numbers were so great that confusion spread quickly.

The rest of our troops advanced on the Armenians from the river and we attacked them on two sides, front and flank. They ran. It was an absurd battle and the only real fighting that had taken place was our first assault on the right flank.

The whole hilltop, four furlongs in length, was a seething mass of killing and bloodied men. I could see Thracians riding among the fleeing Armenians, grinning as they stabbed with their dripping swords as if reaping bloody corn.

As the Armenians ran, we ran with them, stabbing, tripping, and striking with sword and shield. As they ran, they abandoned their weapons and they had no armour. It was like wolves among sheep. Everywhere I looked, there were dead or dying Armenians. I did not care, nor did I pause in the killing. A blood lust finally descended upon me once more. Uncontrolled and unreasoning. As I killed them, I felt nothing. There was blood everywhere. It soaked the grass, covering the killers and the dead in the same measure.

I saw an Armenian prince, unhorsed and wearing a diadem on his forehead. It glinted in the sunshine as he struggled to his feet. I ran after him. He was still unscathed and I wanted to kill him or take him prisoner. I thought he would fetch a good ransom or maybe he had jewellery that I could take. He ran to the wooded area and tried to disappear into the trees. I followed at a run and saw I was closing the gap rapidly.

We were well into the wood when he turned spear in hand. He was not the pampered weakling I had imagined. He knew how to wield his weapon.

I slowed and eyed him carefully, breathing hard. I still had my shield and sword and felt safe. I approached slowly, crouching slightly. The din of dying men, screams of horses and shouting were all around us but distant, for we must have run a hundred yards from the tree line.

My opponent inched towards me and I wondered what he would do next. The look on his face was one of determination. He showed no fear. He was my height and wore shining green and brown clothes over the chain mail that glinted in the light that filtered through the leaves above us. Absurdly, I heard a corncrake screech to my left and I thought that even the birds were panicking.

He came closer. He was beyond the reach of my short sword. He swung the spear at my head, full length. It was a fast, unexpected movement. My reflexes served me well. I caught the full force of the blow on my shield.

I stepped forward. I stabbed with my gladius. He had backed out of reach again. I was frustrated for I wanted to return to the battle and fighting one man in a hand-to-hand contest was not what I wanted. I moved forward faster in my impatience. I could hear Meridius saying, "never get impatient" but no one takes good advice all the time.

He swung his spear at me again. I ducked. He neatly swivelled the weapon downwards. The tip buried itself in the soft earth at my feet. In my haste, I had continued advancing quickly. I tripped on the spear. It pitched me forward in an undignified heap. I still had the sense to roll away as he raised the spear. I kept rolling until I was sure I was out of reach.

I hit a tree stump with my back. The pain spurred me on to using common sense instead of rushing the fight. I was up in no time, facing the Armenian. He was advancing again. The look on his face was serious and his breathing regular.

I was uncertain how to tackle him. He was advancing and seemed confident. His reach was much greater than mine was, for I only had my short legionary sword. I had to get inside his reach to use my weapon.

It came to me suddenly. The ground was uneven and as I began to back away down a slight slope, I bent my legs and remained still, crouching. He continued to advance. I threw myself forward, and continued in a run. It was a fast, sudden, unexpected move for it was uphill. He tried to back away again. I raised my shield. I knocked his spear arm aside. I turned slightly as I stabbed with the gladius and pierced him in the side of his chest. It was only to the depth of my finger, but it was enough.

We both fell forward. His blood had soaked my tunic, for it spurted from his chest. As I extricated myself, I saw he did not move. I must have penetrated his heart, for he lay immobile as if dead.

I stood up. There was a noise behind me. A faint rustling of leaves. I looked around, fearing it might be another Armenian.

It was Bassus. The Centurion stood with sword drawn and shield hefted ready to fight.

'Hope you're not too tired, but I want the thing that's around your neck and if you don't give it to me I'll have to take it. I don't mind removing your head first to do it though. Understand?'

I grinned from a bloodstained face and indicated him to approach, using the tip of my bloodied sword. I knew I could take this fat fool. I knew I was good at this and I knew I would keep what was mine. Not mine, but rightfully mine. My inheritance, the last thing left to me of the family taken away from me by the Mettius Costa family.

'Think you can do it?' my lips curled as I spoke, 'Come and try. Hades awaits you.'

'Tough talk from a young pup like you. You may be quick, but I'm a professional killer. This is my job, just like yours should be cleaning the latrines.'

'Each time I do I'll think of you.'

I was enjoying myself, for I knew I would kill him. Fat. Slow. Stupid. It was a foregone conclusion. I advanced.

We circled, for we were both right handed. Shields facing swords. Bassus attacked first. He used his weight behind his shield. I think it was only to see what I would do. He was not a match for any of the legionaries I had fought in the sword contest and I wondered what tricks he might use for he could surely not be as skilled as Meridius.

He grunted with the effort as he pushed with his shield but I sidestepped. He stumbled forward, turning far quicker than I would have expected for man of his bulk. He kicked as he did this and swung his sword at me at the same time, with his weight on his back foot. The sword hit my shield and the kick landed on my shin. It was painful enough to make me limp. I wondered how I had let that happen.

I advanced again. This time Bassus was backing off up the slope on which I had attacked the Armenian. He reached the dead man's limp body and stepped over it. He was still backing away slowly. As I advanced, I had to step forward over the body too. He suddenly rushed at me. He was pushing with his shield as I was about to step over the Armenian.

He stabbed with his gladius. It moved with breathtaking speed. The sword made a grating noise as it scraped my breastplate. I was off balance and tripped on the dead Armenian. Bassus rushed forward. He put all his weight behind his shield again. I stabbed with my sword.

I cut his left thigh and he yelped with pain. As his leg buckled, he pitched forward and struck his head on the bole of a tree. He sat with his helmet half covering his eyes. He seemed concussed, for he did not struggle to get to his feet and the hatred within me made me savour the approaching moment of his death. I stood and raised my sword. Death approached. It would take Bassus exactly as he deserved.

I had begun my revenge on Marcus. I could feel the hate welling up inside me. To me this was Marcus. It was the entire Mettius family the hated killers of my parents and the objects of my revenge.

Chapter VIII

"Every instant of time is a pinprick of eternity." - Marcus Aurelius

I felt and heard an impact on my head and all went black. I think I awoke briefly, hours later and I recall the look of the trees in the sunshine. It seemed very bright. I thought I could see Marcus' face, and then the world went black again.

All that comes back to me now are a few islands of memory spread over a long time. There is a momentary flash of Junius and some other legionaries. Then I remember being lifted and I remember lying on my back on something soft, and movement up and down. Then the roof of a tent.

However much I puzzle over the period in between these visions I cannot bring the gaps back into my consciousness. It is as if I had ceased to exist in between those moments in time. It causes me irritation still to think of the time I lost. It is all gone. I remembered everything up to being hit on the head, even the look of the green grass onto which I fell but the black missing time is not there. Lost memories are common after head wounds and although my physician told me not to worry about it, I still puzzle over those gaps in time.

My next sensible memory was sitting in the back of a wagon. I kept slipping to the left and felt there was nothing holding me up but I could not raise myself. I heard a low-pitched voice speaking Greek.

'He's slipped over again. Can't you drive a bit slower? I'm having to pick the bugger up every two seconds.'

'We won't get there at all if we dawdle. It won't make much difference to this one anyway. He won't survive long with a wound like that. Trust me I've seen it before.'

'If you didn't think he'd make it what are you taking us all this way for?'

'General's orders, money too mind. It seems this chap is a bit of a hero. Helped lead a charge against the Armenian cavalry and that won the battle. General wanted to reward the bugger but he was injured. So he paid for him to go to Sinope in the hope that he'll recover. Bit overoptimistic in my opinion'

'I thought it was that Decurion fellow threatening you that made you take him.'

'No, he was just threatening me if his mate here didn't arrive in Sinope. Said he has friends there and we're to take him to the house of some Greek chap. Poly something. I told him his mate wouldn't survive and the fellow nearly hit me.'

'Can you stop a minute anyway? He's wet himself again; I'll need to clean him up.'

'Look, I can't stop every time he does that. You orderlies think you're bloody surgeons.'

'Stop, will you? If he has sores all over him he really won't live.'

'All right, but only for a minute.'

I remember being dragged or lifted out and placed on the roadside. I lifted my right arm and managed to speak.

'Where am I?'

'What?' the Orderly said.

'Where am I?'

'Half way to Sinope old chap. You got a nasty head wound and nearly died. We're taking you by wagon, General's orders. About three more weeks of this and you'll be there.'

'Here! Larax. He's speaking.'

'So?'

'Well I just thought you'd want to know that's all.'

'Who cares? Get on with it; I want to get this over and done with as soon as possible.'

'You're a bloody, grumpy, Scythian bastard.'

'You what?'

'Look, let's not fall out. You won't get paid unless I sign the chitty when we get there, so you'd better behave. You hear me?'

I heard all this but felt oddly dissociated from myself, almost as if I was standing nearby and overhearing a conversation about someone else. What had happened to me to make me feel so vague? I was bundled back into the wagon and slept again I think.

I remember the journey only in patches. I came to a rather sudden and frightening conclusion. Why it took me so long to fathom it is still a mystery to me. I was unable to move my left arm and leg. I became aware of the problem when my Orderly asked me if I could feel him pinching my leg.

'Ouch! Of course I can.'

'Can you move it?'

'Yes,' I said, vaguely as if it was obvious but lifting my right arm.

'Move it for me then Aulus,' he said.

It was a silly conversation in retrospect for the limbs did not move. In one sense, I was unaware of them. Yes, I understood that they were mine and I could feel pain and touch but it seemed to mean nothing to me. It was a loss of integrity. I could not recognise that there was a left side.

It was then that I discovered yet another disaster. The amulet was gone. I felt for the silver wire on the little green gemstone and it was not there. I panicked. I cross-questioned the Orderly; I fretted and kept feeling for it. I felt lost without it and felt empty, as if some large measure of myself had been contained within it.

It had been the last physical connection with my dead family and now it was gone. It could have disappeared at any time since the battle, I knew that, but who would take it? It was not visible under the neck of my tunic. A thought dawned on me then. What if it was not the enemy who had attacked me and left me for dead? What if it was Marcus, biding his time until he could get it. It made sense. What was Bassus doing there anyway if Marcus was somewhere else?

Attacking me from behind would be exactly what I would have expected from him. Now I was left crippled and had no possible way of either finding out the truth or of getting vengeance.

The Orderly, whose name was Lucius, was very kind to me once he realised that I was not going to die immediately. He cared for me in ways that I found profoundly embarrassing. It was degrading. He attended to me when I needed to pass water and he cleaned me when I opened my bowels. He fed me. I found eating was a trial for often the food slipped from my mouth and soiled my tunic. It seemed hard to keep it in. Liquids also seemed to slip from the corner of my mouth on the left side.

The loss of dignity was the hardest part. As a young soldier, good looking and strong, I had never thought that anything could reduce me to this broken shell of a man.

My mood plummeted. I wished someone would come and put me out of my misery and I bitterly regretted having survived. Apart from Lucius, I had not a soul to speak to and I could do nothing for myself. Lucius moved my legs and arms around, to prevent stiffness, he said, but they seemed quite stiff anyway.

I had gone from being a vigorous fit young man to what I felt was a slobbering wreck. I had no knowledge of how or why it had happened; I only knew there was an injury to the right side of my head. I felt hopeless and alone. It was far worse than being alone in the Subura. At least then, I had control of my body. I had some hope then. I had none now. I cried and had fits of temper.

'Look, Aulus, it doesn't look like you're going to die. It's a month since the battle and you're still here. You'll have to make the most of it, that's all.'

Lucius was a man of middle years, small, wrinkled and patient. He had to be patient for I was cantankerous, troublesome and angry. Angry with myself, angry with him and most of all, angry at a world that was cruel enough to cripple me and leave me intact enough to understand.

'All I'm fit for now is begging. I can't even wipe my own arse!'

'Listen my lad, whatever you were before, you are someone different now and you have to accept it. Stop feeling sorry for yourself!'

'Accept it? Never!'

'If you can't accept it fight it! I once had a patient just like you and he managed to get walking in the end. If you sacrifice regularly and pray, the Gods may hear you and help.'

'I will walk again! I will!' I screamed, 'You'll see. I will.' Tears came then. I must have been pathetic in my self-pity.

'Then do it,' he said.

I realised then that his goading was intended to make me fight and I knew deep inside he was right. I had trained and learned how to fight others and kill men but I had never fought with myself. I realised that my greatest battle now lay ahead. It was not with corsairs or Armenians, but with my own bitterness and disappointment.

Although Lucius was only an Orderly and no physician, he understood the human mind. He nagged, he taunted he cajoled. He drove me to distraction and exasperated with my lack of success I obeyed him. He knew I was strong and fit before the injury and took advantage of this by exercising my good right arm and leg.

When we stopped, he would support my weak side and walk me along the road. At night, he gave me exercises to do with my arm and leg. He made me hold my sword and try to practise.

It was on one of those occasions when I was sitting upright, gladius in hand practicing slices and cuts, that it happened. My leg twitched. I felt it. I looked but it did not happen again.

'Lucius!' I all but screamed, 'I moved my leg!'

'Very well let's see you do it again.'

'I can't.'

'Aulus, can't means won't in this life. Haven't you learned that yet? Keep trying, you'll get there!'

We had only two weeks before we reached Sinope and I guessed that we would head for the house of Polymecles. I spent all my time in the wagon trying desperately to move my leg again. It began to happen more regularly. Over the next week, I had the return of even some foot movement. I could not stand but the strength was returning at a speed which I felt was slow but Lucius felt was remarkably fast.

On the day I moved my thumb we drank wine. As we approached Sinope, my mood was better for I at last had hope. It had been seven weeks or more since my injury and I could stand for a few moments and could voluntarily move my thumb.

As we neared the gates, a sense of unease took me. I thought of Hypsicratea. It was the first time I had done so for a long time and I knew that I could never send word to her. When I left Sinope, I was a young soldier, proud and strong. I returned a cripple and I could not imagine that she could love such a man, if indeed she had really loved me at all. "What could be worse than a crippled soldier?" I thought to myself as we entered the gates of the city.

Sinope had not changed, unless it was happier. This time when I entered there were smiles, laughter, and children playing in the streets. It was as if some natural resilience had brought back the old Sinope, the one we Romans had brought to its knees, by siege. It seemed as if beneath the superficial facade of the place there lurked a natural optimism which could only be suppressed for a time and then had to emerge, hatch out. I could recognise it in the music from the bazaars, from the smiles of young girls and the vendors plying their wares in the streets. The spirits of great cities do not die they merely sleep and wait for a time of reawakening.

Polymecles greeted me like a long lost son. I was helped from the back of the wagon and he ran to me and almost dragged me to the ground as he embraced me. I had never realised that he really did mean much of what he had said to Junius and me when the Legion had billeted us with him. I had thought it was all meaningless verbiage. I was wrong.

'Master Aulus,' he waved his arms around my head as he spoke, 'You have returned. It brings great joy to my old eyes to see you again. You once saved my life when an evil bowman struck me down and I will repay you!

'I will send for doctors and people to care for you. You will stay here with me until you are fit and well, noble conqueror of Armenia. You must tell me all about the great battles and how you conquered Tigranes the Great!'

'Polymecles, slow down my friend. I cannot walk but I think I am getting better. I need time more than anything else. I had no idea you felt so strongly about us.'

'Of course I feel strongly. You and Master Junius saved my life that night and I will repay you. You are great men and it is an honour to be able to help you in any way.'

The little half-Greek had tears in his eyes and I was surprised to find that he was actually sincere.

Polymecles was as good as his word. He did arrange for a Greek doctor to visit but there was little doctoring to do.

'You have sustained serious damage to the brain. It will turn out as the Gods wish it. There is no treatment that is known to medicine that can influence the outcome,' the doctor said. He was a tall, thin, angular, bald man who seemed to look down his nose at me.

'But there is a chance? I will walk again?'

'Who can tell about these things? There is an oracle at Pergamum and you may learn there what the future holds. I have prescribed a medicine, which has been known to be useful in such cases. It only works soon after the injury, but it is worth a try.'

'Doctor, whatever you say, I will walk, I will use my hand again.'

The doctor did not reply. He turned and walked briskly to the door and I heard him say to Polymecles, 'I am afraid it is hopeless. The brain is damaged and such injury is permanent.'

I practised what movement I had, every day and all the waking hours. I ate well and with help began to walk. I refused to give up. I had not died and I would fight. There is something in a man that even when all comes out against him will push him to fight. A gladiator in the arena facing that last blow that will finish him off, will still raise his hands to fend off the approaching blade. It was this last will to struggle and win that pushed me on.

Three months after the battle I could walk. I limped and carried my left arm flexed against my chest, but I was walking.

Polymecles asked if there was anyone in the city I wished to contact.

'Perhaps the military commander will arrange for you to travel to your home in magnificent Rome. There must be doctors there and perhaps a chance of complete cure?'

'No there is no one to contact. I suppose Junius is still with the army near Tigranocerta and there is no one from my legion here.'

I though of Hypsicratea. I wished I could see her again, even from a distance but I knew I could not. It was my pride that stopped me. We had been friends until that last night of love, when I was strong and whole. It made no sense to contact her as a cripple. I was sure she would not want me and I certainly did not want her to see me like this.

'No, Polymecles, there is no one.'

I began to go for walks. Polymecles always accompanied me. We went first for short walks in the square outside his house. I required no support and my gait gradually improved, as did my finger movement. The only pain I had was from my left shoulder, which had become stiff with the lack of movement. In between walks, I persuaded my friend Polymecles to get me a small shield. It was made of bronze and I could not lift it at all at first. With a month's practise, I began to be able to lift it and then move it around weakly but purposefully. I began to realise that if I were to recover, it would be a huge task. I had nothing better to do and that spurred me on to practise with sword and shield, hobbling around the courtyard.

I often looked at what I was doing in the courtyard of the house of the little half-Greek landlord and smiled. I knew I was slow, weak, and clumsy and could not even have defended myself against Julius, the boy I grew up with, all those years before. I was making progress however. I could feed myself and bathe. The bathing was one pleasure that made me feel human again. The steam loosened my tight muscles and swimming in the caldarium improved my balance and strength.

I was walking home from the baths alone. It was morning, I had been shaved, and I had exercised and swum in the Roman baths.

'Aulus, is it you?' It was a female voice. The accent was thick and local but I understood the Greek easily.

'Aripele! How are you? It is such a long time. You look as if life is treating you well.'

'Yes, life has been kind to me and a nobleman has decided to look after me. I no longer work in the streets. I have a slave and a small house, well, part of a house. But tell me of Junius. How is he? He said he would write to me but he never did. I thought he might be dead, but I think I would feel that, if it were true. If he came back, I would give up all that I have to be with him. Please say he is well.'

'Last time I saw him he was indeed well. I have not been with the army for almost six months. I was injured you see. They sent me here thinking I would be able to make a life here, for I have no one in Rome.'

'Oh,' she said, looking forlorn.

'Maybe the Ninth will come back. Maybe that's why they sent me here. He may have had trouble finding someone to write for him.'

'No I don't think so. I wish I could see him again. My heart is heavy without him.'

'I did not realise that you two were so close. I thought it was only a business arrangement.'

Her eyes flashed at me then but she said nothing. She did not need to reply, for I had clearly underestimated another friendship. I felt stupid and clumsy now.

'Please forgive me Aripele. There is so much that has escaped me in the past. Things I did not understand and things that I thought I understood and didn't.'

'What do you mean?'

'Just that there are people in my life who surprise me by being better and kinder to me than I ever imagined I deserved.'

'How is the Queen? I remember that you and she had a friendship.'

'I, err...' I stumbled over the right reply, 'I haven't seen her. I have been too ill and I am sure she is too busy to bother with crippled soldiers.'

A hint of bitterness was creeping into my thoughts, but I knew I was right. I stared fixedly at the ground. Aripele did not notice or did not acknowledge it.

'You don't look crippled to me. Perhaps we could do business. It might remind me of Junius. I would not charge very much.'

'No, I don't think Junius would like that if the legion comes back.'

'No perhaps not. Pity, you are a handsome man, like my Junius, a little small by comparison...'

'Enough! We could perhaps dine together though. Polymecles has been very kind to me since I returned.'

'He is a strange little man. He missed you both, when you left and he and I shared our grief. He swears you saved his life even though everyone knows it was the smallest of wounds!'

She laughed then and the little wrinkles that appeared at the corners of her eyes made her look impish.

'Perhaps we can dine tonight?'

'Not tonight, my nobleman is coming to see me. Tomorrow evening if you wish.'

'I'll tell Polymecles to prepare a real celebration.'

As I walked away, limping only slightly I reached for the amulet around my neck and realised it was gone. I had pangs of grief. I felt naked without it. I had lost the last vestige of my family. A million thoughts of home and family injected by my fingers into the little green stone and all gone. I felt a lump in my throat and felt my raised hand clench. Everything had gone again and I was not even whole.

Chapter IX

"Who would give a law to lovers? Love is unto itself a higher law." - Boethius

I awoke with a start. It had become my habit to sleep late most mornings, for I found the sleep helped the strength in my arm and leg. It was like nurturing a child. Plenty of sleep and good food and inordinately slow but definite progress, punctuated by sudden leaps forward that surprised.

I could hear birds outside my window and vendors in the streets outside. All the normal sounds of a city awakening. There had been heavy rain, which was unusual in the spring, but a northerly wind carried it from Scythia or so Polymecles and I told each other.

I lay still for a little while as my head cleared and then I arose, wrapped in my blanket and looked out of the window. From the first floor, the cobbles of the street below glinted silver in the spring rain. The street was busy with the commercial life of the city's people. I smiled, for I was beginning to recover, to my satisfaction. I could walk, almost without a limp and my left arm was stronger, still clumsy, but stronger all the same. I still had difficulty understanding how it could take so long to get better. I was impatient, but I was gradually learning how to control my restlessness.

Below, there was a knock on the tenement door. I looked down but could not see who was knocking and thought that maybe Polymecles had visitors or a delivery. I washed and dressed. As I donned my tunic, there was a knock on my door and I crossed and opened it.

'Master Aulus, you have a visitor downstairs. A charming girl who comes with a message that she will not give to me.'

'I will come as soon as I am dressed; you know it takes me time to lace my sandals.'

As I carefully descended the stairway, I began to wonder who would send me messages. I could not ignore a sense of excitement. Perhaps it was a message from the legion? Perhaps it was only Aripele, cancelling the meeting that evening?

In the atrium, seated on a small chair was a girl I did not recognise. She wore a cloak and a worn, tired expression, conspicuous on such a young person.

'Yes?' I said.

'I have a message from the palace. Queen Hypsicratea asks that you visit her this evening and has granted you a private audience. Please attend before eating.'

'But how did she know where I was? I have not been in touch with her.'

'I do not know such things. I am only a servant,' the girl said looking at the floor.

When she left, I became perturbed.

'Polymecles! Where are you?' I shouted.

'Yes, Aulus, what can I help you with?'

'Did you send word to the palace about me?'

'No, you told me not to, so I did not.'

'Then how is it that Hypsicratea has sent for me? I don't want her to see me like this. I am only a shadow of what I used to be. I am ashamed.'

'I do not know answers to all these things, but if you have been summoned you must go. It would be very rude to ignore such an invitation.'

'I know,' I was worried now, 'there is nothing I can do about it.'

'Perhaps all will be well. You are recovering and maybe you can renew your friendship with the Queen. It would bring great fame to this house. I can say that we host friends of the Queen of Pontus!'

'Perhaps. There is much you do not know about her, my friend.'

'There is perhaps much you do not know about me.'

'Yes Polymecles. I do know you have been a friend to me in need. I have much to repay.'

I reached for the amulet, but of course, it was not there. In an odd way, I missed it. It had been part of me since childhood. If indeed Marcus had taken it then I had to return to Rome and get it back if possible. I knew also that I had to become well again or all was lost.

That evening I had to set off much earlier than I would have a year before, for I still limped and after a few hundred yards had to stop and rest, in anger and frustration. I was scared. How could I face her in this state?

I knew deep inside this was a disaster in the making. To return to Sinope a cripple and then start visiting Hypsicratea was absurd to the point of lunacy. Despite what I knew would be a certain rejection, I had thought of nothing all day but that beautiful woman. I imagined every possible reunion, from a lover's embrace to a vitriolic spurning.

I came to the side gate of the palace and knocked. The janitor let me in and looked curiously at me, before directing me to a stairway in the side of the main building. Clearly, I was expected. As I crossed the courtyard to the palace I thought of the last time I had touched Hypsicratea, the lingering last kiss and the feel of her naked body.

My heart beat fast as I limped up the stairs. I was out of breath when I reached the top. I felt like crying with anger and frustration at the state of me. What would I say? I almost turned and left.

A maid met me, the same one who had brought the message and I followed her to a reception room that I knew well from the many evenings I had spent in friendship and conversation over the preceding year. The maid indicated a divan in the centre of the room and left me there. I looked around. There was a balcony where we had drunk wine one night in the heat of a summer's night. The drapes had been changed to a light flimsy material that I supposed was silk and they danced gracefully in the spring breeze.

She came then. I heard her approach slowly, her soft sandaled footfall, demanding my eyes. I turned and saw her. She was everything I remembered, as she slowly approached looking into my eyes. She was smiling and her face had a look of curiosity rather than anything else.

'Aulus, it is you!'

'Yes, it is me. I came.'

'I heard you had been hurt.'

'Crippled more like,' I said and looked away; I could not meet her eyes then.

She sat next to me and put a hand on my shoulder.

'You look alright. Where were you hurt?

'My head. At one time I could not move my left arm or leg, but I can walk now.'

I was speaking too quickly.

I decided that explanations were as lame as my body and my voice trailed away. I stared down at the ground not knowing what to say.

'How long have you been in Sinope?'

'About four months.'

'And you never thought to send me word?'

'How could I? I am not the man you knew. That one last night we had together meant more to me than anything I ever had in my miserable little life. Now I am back a year later and of no use to anyone. I didn't think you would want to know me.'

'Aulus, we were friends long before we were lovers. If not for love then for friendship's sake you should have contacted me. Did you think I was really that shallow?'

I looked at her then. Her dark eyes had not changed, they were a deep dark dangerous place that called me, beckoned me. I reached forward with my good right arm and touched her gently on the shoulder. She took my hand and raised it to her mouth. She kissed it gently and held it to her cheek. I saw a solitary tear roll slowly down her cheek and understood. I had been a fool. I should have known. I was angry with myself now for not trusting the woman I loved. It was my pride, foolish pride that had kept me from her.

'I'm sorry,' I said, 'I did not understand. There is so much I have not understood.'

'No, it is what I would have expected, a proud boy like you! How could you know I have been thinking about you ever since you marched away with Lucullus? Do you really think I would abandon you because you were injured in battle? That is not the kind of person I am.'

'What should we do about it?'

'You're not a soldier any more are you?'

'No, that part of my life has gone, maybe forever.'

'Then you're free to stay here and I will care for you as I would have done when you first arrived.'

'How can I stay with you? If Mithradates returns and finds me installed in his palace, he will kill us both. People talk and we cannot keep it secret whether we are discreet or not. It cannot work.'

'If you are no soldier I could make you a minister. An "Advisor of Roman affairs". Anyway, queens take consorts, do you know nothing?'

'Do you really want me still? I can hardly walk and holding even a small shield in my left hand is like carrying a horse.'

'I never wanted you for your fighting skills. Besides, there is one advantage for me! You won't be able to fight me off!' she leaned forward and kissed me then and I realised what a fool I had been, hiding in the house of Polymecles.

It was the end of a long journey. I realised at last, that the only thing that really mattered was here in my arms, and that the amulet, Marcus and revenge could wait. The streets of Rome, the corsair's ship and the battlefield of Tigranocerta all dwindled into insignificance next to what I had in my life now.

Epilogue

I Manius Ostorius, Prefect, write this at the request of Junius Sinna, Decurion of the Ninth Legion Hispania.

Aulus,

I know not whether you lived. I hope this finds you, for I have sent it to the house of our mutual friend Polymecles.

When we found you, the surgeon despaired of you life. The General sent you to Sinope because it was the only place you had contacts outside the army and he has paid for your journey himself.

He personally told me to say that if you survive, he will acknowledge a debt, for he said you saved his life on the battlefield and he has mentioned you by name in his report to the Senate.

If indeed you live, then remember your friend Junius in years to come.

The Senate has recalled the Legion to Rome and we will be transferred from there but we have no further orders at present.

If you live, send word and come back to Rome when you can. Also, please tell Aripele where I am. Perhaps she will find me in Rome one day.

Sent with prayers to Mercury,

Junius.

END

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Fred Nath is a full time neurosurgeon. He lives in the northeast of England with his wife and daughter, his three sons having grown up and flown the coop. In his time, he has run twenty consecutive Great North Run half-marathons, trekked to 6000m in Nepal, crossed the highest mountain pass in the world and began writing, like John Buchan, "because he ran out of penny-novels to read and felt he should write his own." Fred loves a good story, which is why he writes

You may also enjoy, by the same author:

'The Cyclist' published by Fingerpress: **ISBN (pb):** 978-0-9564925-1-7

(Available from the publisher or Amazon and Smashwords)

'The Judas Scrolls' available for free pdf download on:

>http://www.frednath.com<

