Simon Scarrow - The Eagle In the Sand

'I thought we were supposed to stop there.' Cato spoke quietly to the veteran as they rode side by side at the head of the cavalry squadron.

'They've had enough of us for the moment,' Parmenion replied. 'We're coming back the same way, so we can let them know the score then.'

Cato looked at him shrewdly. 'Still out to win their friendship?'

Parmenion glanced back at him. 'Perhaps I'm just trying not to lose whatever good will remains between us. If we go in hard today, it might just be the final straw for those people. Then they'll go over to Bannus. And if the people of Heshaba turn against us, then what hope have we with the rest of the province? Strictly between us, Cato, there are times when I doubt that there's anything more the prefect could do to stir up bad will amongst the people in this area. It's almost as if he wants to goad them into open rebellion.'

'And why would he want that?' Cato responded evenly.

Parmenion thought it over for a moment and shook his head. 'I don't know. I really don't. Doesn't make sense at all. The man must be mad. Quite mad.'

'Does he strike you as mad?'

'No. I suppose not.' Parmenion sounded confused, and glanced round at Cato again. 'What do you think? There has to be more to it. Any fool could see where these orders will lead. They are going to provoke a rebellion, or at least drive far more men into Bannus' clutches. I just don't get it.'

Cato shrugged, then stared back towards the village. He reined his horse in, steering it out of the path of the following column as his mind turned over the wanton injustice that Miriam had suffered. He made a decision, and spurred his mount back alongside Parmenion.

'Where are we camping tonight?'

'There's a spring and some trees halfway along the wadi. About another four miles from here. Why?'

'I'll join you there at dusk,' Cato replied, before he urged his horse back along the column and headed for the village.

'Where are you going?' Parmenion called after him.

'I have to speak to someone!' Cato shouted back, and then muttered, 'I have to apologise.'

As his horse climbed back up the slope towards the cluster of houses that made up the small community of Heshaba, Cato mentally composed the words he wished to say to Miriam. He had to make it quite clear that the prefect was not representative of other Romans. That his actions must not be understood to be typical of Roman policy. It might yet be possible to mend some of the damage that Scrofa had caused.

He entered the village and was immediately aware of the hostile expressions in the faces of the few people who met his gaze through open doors and windows as his horse picked its way down the street and into the open space at the heart of the community. The air still carried the sharp tang from the burned-out shell of Miriam's house. The brigand hung from his cross and Cato hoped that the man was dead, spared from any further suffering. A short distance away from the smouldering ruin Cato saw her grandson,Yusef, squatting on a small chest on the ground next to the meagre pile of goods that she had been able to rescue from the house before the auxiliaries had set fire to it.Yusef looked up at the sound of hooves and stared at Cato with wide terrified eyes. Cato dismounted, and led the horse over to one of the blackened uprights that had supported Miriam's sun shelter. He tethered the animal to it and slowly approached the young boy.

'Yusef, do you know where your grandmother is?' he asked in Greek.

The boy did not respond for a moment, and then shook his head quickly.'She's not here. She's gone. So you can't hurt her any more, Roman!' He almost spat out the last word, and Cato paused a short distance away, not wanting to alarm the boy any further.

'I mean her no harm. You have my word on that, Yusef. But I must speak to her. Please tell me where she is.'

Yusef stared at him for a moment, then slowly rose to his feet. He pointed at the ground. 'Wait here. Don't move. Don't try to follow me.'

Cato nodded. With a last careful look at the Roman, Yusef turned and ran off, disappearing round the corner of the nearest building. Cato glanced round and saw that there was no one else in sight. The village was as quiet and as still as the vast necropolis that spread out to either side of the Appian way outside the gates of Rome. Not the happiest of comparisons, Cato thought wryly, and turned his attention to the pile of belongings in the street. Aside from the bundles of clothing and cooking pots there were several baskets of scrolls, and the small casket that Yusef had been sitting on. Something about the casket struck Cato, and then he remembered that he had seen it in the hiding place beneath Miriam's house. What could be so precious about it that it had to be hidden from sight? His curiosity aroused, Cato glanced round to make sure that he was unobserved. After a moment's hesitation he approached and squatted down to examine it more closely. The casket was quite plain, with no ornamentation and a simple catch fastening.

He was interrupted by the sound of footsteps and hurriedly stood as Miriam and Yusef turned the corner and saw him squatting down by their belongings. Miriam's eyes went immediately to the casket as she strode across towards the centurion.

'I'll thank you to leave my property – what remains of it – alone. My son made that for me. That, and the contents, are all I have to remember him by.'

'I'm sorry. I… ' Cato stared at her helplessly, then hung his head in shame. 'I'm sorry.'

'My grandson says you wish to speak to me?'

'Yes. If you will permit me.'

'I'm not sure that I want to speak to you. Not after… ' Miriam swallowed as she gestured towards the scorched remains of her house.

'I can understand that,' Cato replied gently. 'The prefect was wrong to do it. I tried to stop him.'

Miriam nodded. 'I know, but it made no difference.'

'What happens to you now? Where will you go?'

Miriam blinked back the tears that glistened at the corners of her dark eyes and nodded vaguely towards the street she had emerged from. 'One of my people has provided a room for me and the boy. The villagers will build us a new home.'

'That's good.' Cato tilted his head slightly to one side. 'You said your people. Are you their leader?'

Miriam pursed her lips. 'In a manner of speaking. They hold me in some regard as followers of my son. It's almost as if I was their mother as well.' She smiled weakly. 'I suppose they're just sentimental.'

Cato smiled back at her. 'Whatever the reason, you clearly hold some power over them, as well as Symeon and Bannus, it appears.'

Miriam's smile froze, and she looked at Cato suspiciously. 'What do you want of me, Centurion?'

'To talk. To understand what is going on. I need to know more about your people, and about Bannus, if we are to bring his ambition to provoke an uprising to an end, and save lives. Many lives, Roman and Judaean alike.'

'You want to understand my people?' Miriam replied bitterly.'Then you'd be one of the few Romans who ever did try to understand us.'

'I know that. I cannot apologise for what has been done in the name of Rome. I am only a junior officer. I cannot change imperial policy. But I can try to make a difference. That's all.'

'Very honest of you, Centurion.'

'We could start improving relations if you would call me Cato.'

She stared at him for a moment and then smiled.'Very well, then, Cato.We'll talk.' She bent down to pick up the casket and tucked it securely under her arm before she rose up and nodded to him. 'Come with me. You too, Yusef.'

She led Cato through the quiet streets and a short distance out of the village to a small reservoir that collected the rain that ran off the slopes of the wadi during the winter and spring. Now it was nearly dry and a few goats chewed at the tufts of grass growing in the cracked earth at the water's edge. Miriam and Cato sat in the shade of a handful of palm trees while Yusef ambled off to find some pebbles for his sling and began to practise against a distant rock.