Simon Scarrow - The Eagle In the Sand

'Not exactly by the book, is it?'

'No. But not exactly illegal, either.' Postumus replied. 'We carry out our duties patrolling the frontier, and the caravan cartels get their escort. Everyone's happy. The thing is to make sure that word of this doesn't spread too far, or pretty soon we'll have Cassius Longinus clamouring for a cut, and the procurator in Caesarea. So we keep it quiet.'

'I can imagine.'

'Of course, the only really tricky issue is when we have to deal with fresh customers. Those caravan cartels that are new to the area. Like that one.'

'Oh? What happens then?'

'You'll see.' Postumus turned towards him. 'When they reach us, let me do the talking, sir. Chances are they'll know some Greek but they prefer to negotiate in their lingo and I know enough to get by.'

'All right then.' Macro nodded. 'I'll follow your lead.'

The caravan emerged from the heat haze and slowly drew closer to the way station. Macro watched them from the tower, and saw that there must be at least a hundred camels, weighed down by great baskets stuffed with bales of material, jars tightly packed into straw and other less discernible goods. Towards the front of the caravan were two large ox-carts laden with stout lengths of timber.The camels came at a steady swaying pace, goaded on by the herders walking at their side, who occasionally flicked the beasts with the ends of the slender canes they carried. On either flank of the caravan rode a handful of guards: warriors swathed in dark robes, with swords and bows slung from the wooden frames of their camel saddles. They looked fierce enough, Macro decided, but there were only twelve of them, hardly sufficient to beat off a spirited attack.

Down below in the courtyard of the station Postumus was ordering his men to mount up, and with a last look at the approaching caravan Macro descended from the tower to join them. As soon as he was in the saddle Postumus gave the signal to move and the horses clopped out of the way station and into the harsh light outside. They quickly fanned out and formed a line two deep across the track, the standards of both squadrons prominently on display a short distance in front of the main body.

'Just to make sure they know we're Roman,' Postumus explained to Macro. 'No sense in panicking them.'

Even so, the caravan halted. The escorts formed a small party with the merchants in charge of the caravan and warily approached the Romans. They stopped the moment they were within speaking distance and one of the merchants waved a hand in greeting.

'Remember, sir,' Postumus muttered, 'let me do the talking.'

'Be my guest.'

Postumus clicked his tongue and walked his horse forward. Macro followed him, keeping a short distance behind. They reined in a few paces from the other men.

Postumus flashed a smile and addressed them in Greek. 'I bid you welcome to the Roman province of Judaea. Do any of you speak Greek?'

'I speak it, a little.' One of the men lowered the veil covering his mouth so that Postumus would know who was speaking for the caravan. 'What can I do for you, Roman?'

'It's more a question of what I can do for you.' Postumus bowed his head.'The route ahead is plagued by raiders from the desert. You will need a stronger escort than that afforded by your twelve companions, no matter how formidable they might be. My men and I can ensure your safe passage through this area as far as Gerasa, should you wish it.'

'Most kind of you, Roman. I imagine you will require us to pay a fee for this service?'

Postumus shrugged.'A small consideration is all that is required.'

'How much?'

'A thousand drachma.'

There was a stony silence from the leader of the caravan, until one of his fellow merchants broke the silence and spoke harshly in their tongue. A conversation ensued and Macro caught the angry tone in their voices. At length the leader hushed his friends and addressed the centurion again. 'It is too much.'

'It is what all caravans who pass this way pay us, should they require our protection.'

'And if we don't pay?'

'You may freely pass. But you continue your journey at your own risk. It is not advisable.You are new to this route, are you not?'

'Perhaps.'

'Then you might not be fully aware of the dangers.'

'We can look after ourselves.'

'As you wish.' Postumus twisted round in his saddle and bellowed an order for his men to move off the track. Then he turned back to the leader of the caravan, bowed his head politely and turned his horse about to trot off and join his men. Macro caught up with him and edged his beast alongside.

'That didn't seem to go very well.'

'Oh, it's not over yet. We sometimes get this reaction from merchants new to this route. But he'll change his mind soon enough.'

'You seem very sure of yourself.'

'I have every reason to be.'

Postumus did not elaborate and Macro sat irritably in his saddle as the long procession of laden camels and their herders swayed by. The escorts stood between the caravans and the Roman cavalry, and eyed Postumus and his men warily until the end of the caravan had passed. Then they turned their camels and trotted them back on to the flanks of the caravan. Once they had gone Macro turned to Postumus.

'What now?'

'We wait a little while, and then follow them.'

Macro had had enough. 'Look, you'd better just tell me what's going on here. No more of your games, Postumus. Just tell me.'

'Maybe nothing will happen, sir. Maybe they will complete their journey in safety, but I wouldn't bet on it. The route between here and Gerasa is the haunt of a number of raiding parties.'

As soon as the rear of the caravan was a mile or so distant Postumus gave the order for his men to advance slowly along the track behind it, making sure that they kept their distance as they followed. The hours passed slowly and Macro began to feel the effects of the previous night's sleeplessness. His eyes felt heavy and sore and he had to blink frequently to try to refresh them. Ahead, the distant figures of the caravan loomed hypnotically, only increasing his sense of weariness. It was late in the afternoon when Postumus halted the column so abruptly that Macro almost slipped from his saddle. He shook his head to clear the heaviness that shrouded his mind.

'What? What's happening?'

'It's just as I anticipated, sir.' Postumus smiled.'Raiders, coming out of the desert. Over there.'

He pointed to the right and Macro saw a line of camels emerge from beyond a low dune and swoop in towards the straggling length of the caravan. At once Macro's hand reached for his sword as his mind cleared at the prospect of action.

'Let's get moving.'

'No.'

'What do you mean no?' Macro growled. 'Those men are attacking the caravan.'

'Precisely.' Postumus nodded. 'And don't those merchants wish that they had taken us up on our offer to protect them? Now they'll learn just how expensive it can be to travel without a proper escort.'

'They'll be massacred!' Macro said angrily.'We have to do something.'

'No,' Postumus replied firmly. As the raiders charged in towards the caravan, the Roman cavalry column stood still. 'For the moment, we're going to do precisely nothing.'

07 The Eagle In the Sand

The settlement of Heshaba was the first village on Centurion Parmenion's patrol route, and the column of Roman cavalry and infantry descended the slope from the main track late in the morning. The blackened remains of Miriam's house were clearly visible and once again Cato felt consumed with guilt that this woman had been so cruelly rewarded for saving his life. As the column approached the village, Parmenion led them in a wide circuit round its periphery. He did not halt the column but kept them marching down the wadi, away from Heshaba.