Simon Scarrow - The Eagle In the Sand

'Stay on them! Don't let them get away!'

The nearest of the raiders was just a short distance ahead now, and Macro drew his shield against his left side and held his cavalry sword out to the right in readiness. The raider, his head swathed in black turban and veil, glanced back and his eyes widened at the sight of the Roman officer bearing down on him.At once he reached forward and snatched out one of the short javelins from the sheath hanging from his saddle frame. As his camel loped on towards the desert the raider twisted round, took aim and hurled the javelin at Macro only a short distance behind.The shaft flew flat and true towards him. He jerked the reins to the left and leaned as far as he dared to the side and ducked his head.The javelin flicked past his right shoulder and the raider uttered an angry curse and snatched at another. For an instant Macro's horse staggered as it struggled to fight the inertia opposing the rapid change in direction and Macro hung on tightly, clamping his legs against the horse's side as he tried to shift his weight to the right. Then, with a powerful thrust from its front legs, the horse regained control and galloped after the raider once more.

The second javelin was thrown as Macro closed in, and it was deflected off his shield with a sharp clatter. There was no time for another javelin and the raider drew a curved blade and swung it at Macro's head. With a metallic ring, Macro parried the blow and then swept the point of his sword towards the man's side and thrust home, through the dark robes and into his chest. The raider gasped as the impact drove the air from his lungs; then, as the blade ripped free, he galloped on several more paces before the reins slipped from his fingers and he toppled from the saddle, hit the stony ground, rolled over a few times and was still. His camel lumbered on, riderless, into the desert.

Macro reined in and glanced round. Scattered ahead of him the rest of the raiders were drawing away. He turned as the first of the auxiliaries streamed past him on either side. None of the men were riding their mounts at full stretch and Macro felt his guts churn with anger and contempt. The bandits were going to escape. True, they would have little to show for their attack on the caravan, but they would survive to strike another day, thanks to Postumus and his ongoing scam.

'Don't just ponce around!' Macro bellowed after them. 'Get after them. Get stuck in, before I have your bollocks for breakfast!'

The nearest men made a show of bending low and urging their horses on, but there was little chance of catching up with the raiders now and Macro sheathed his sword and sat erect as he surveyed the scene. Beyond the auxiliaries, the raiders were rapidly disappearing over the nearest dunes. Elsewhere, the herders were returning to the caravan and restoring order to the nervous animals, who were milling about where they had been left. Some of the merchants were retrieving the loot that been spilled on the sand and repacking it into the baskets hanging over the backs of the pack camels.

A pounding of hooves drew Macro's attention and he saw Centurion Postumus approaching him across the desert. At the last moment, Postumus reined in, his horse kicking up a cloud of dust and loose stones, so that Macro's horse recoiled with a nervous whinny.

'What the hell d'you think you're doing?' Postumus screamed at him, thrusting an arm towards the dead raider.

Macro glanced at the body and shrugged. 'I'm doing your job, Postumus. At least, I'm doing the job you should be doing.'

Postumus clenched his teeth and stabbed a finger at Macro. 'You've fucked it up, Macro! It's taken months to set this up. It was going like a dream… Now?' Postumus looked at the body again and shook his head. 'I don't know what's going to happen. There'll be reprisals.' He turned back to Macro with a bitter grin. 'You're going to pay for this.'

'I don't think so. Not when word gets back to Rome about the little deal you had with that lot.' He gestured towards the last of the raiders, already far off, half hidden by the dust kicked up by their flight.

'What makes you think you'll live to expose us?'

Macro laughed. 'Are you threatening me?' His hand dropped to the hilt of his sword as he watched Postumus closely. 'Go on then, if you've got the balls to do it. Draw your sword.'

Postumus stared at him, then shook his head and sneered.'I don't have to fight you, Macro. I have powerful friends who could swat you like a gnat.'

'Really? Then let them try.'

'In any case, aren't you forgetting something?'

'What?'

'You struck me. In full view of the men.As soon as we get back to Bushir, I'll bring charges against you. Make no mistake, you'll pay for this.'

'So you say. We'll see. But for now, I'm relieving you of command for the rest of this patrol.'

'On whose authority?' Postumus smirked. 'Aren't you forgetting something? Until your appointment is confirmed you have no-'

'I know all that,' Macro cut in. 'But in this situation it doesn't matter. First, you have failed to carry out your duty. I could have you charged with cowardice when we return to Bushir. Second, I am the senior officer present. Unless you have written authority that supersedes my seniority there's nothing you can do about it. I don't suppose you have such a document on you, Centurion Postumus? No? How unfortunate.' Macro smiled. 'I can only imagine how frustrated you must feel.'

Postumus glared at him, opened his mouth to protest, and then shut it again. Macro had him.The same rigorous adherence to rules that had cost Macro his appointment had now robbed Postumus of command over the two cavalry squadrons. It took all of Macro's self-control not to laugh now that the tables had been turned on the smug younger officer. He let Postumus stew for a moment before he continued.

'I will remain in command until we return to Bushir. Until then, you are to assume the duties of an orderly. Is that clear?'

'You can't do this,' Postumus said quietly. The decurions of the two cavalry squadrons had called off the pursuit and were rallying to Macro and Postumus.

'I already have. You can sort it out with the prefect when we return to Bushir.'

'Trust me, I will.'

As the decurions trotted up Macro turned to them and announced the change of command. They turned questioningly to Postumus, but before the latter could speak Macro snapped at them, 'Ignore him! I am the ranking officer here! You will obey my orders from now on. Centurion Postumus will be facing a charge of gross neglect of duty when we return to Bushir. If you don't want to join him then I suggest you accept the change of command right away. Do either of you question my authority? Well?'

The decurions shook their heads.

'That's better! Now get your men to help the merchants restore some order to the caravan. Once that's done, we'll escort them to the Decapolis. If there's another attack I don't expect to see your men responding like a bunch of virgins at the Lupercal. I'd better see them go in hard and fast, or I'll personally make sure that both of you are broken back to the ranks.' Macro subjected them to a withering glare, and then concluded, 'Do I make myself clear?'

'Yes, sir!' the decurions chorused.

'Fine, then carry out your orders.' Macro returned their salute and they wheeled their mounts round and trotted back to their units. Macro turned to Postumus and gestured after them. 'What are you waiting for? I want you out there helping to clear up this mess as well.'

'Me?'

'Yes you. And you will call me sir from now on. Get moving before I add insubordination to the charges I aim to bring against you.'

Postumus stabbed his heels in, wheeled his horse and galloped past Macro, back towards the caravan.

Macro watched him go, and breathed a sigh of relief. Corruption had made the officers go soft. If they had had the guts to stand up to him a moment earlier then Macro feared he might have gone the way of Scrofa's predecessor. As it was, Macro had the whip hand and they had cringed like curs in front of him. In some small way that saddened him. If they buckled before the wrath of a superior officer so easily they would be little good against Bannus and his men when the time came to fight the brigands on the battlefield. As soon as his appointment as prefect of the Second Illyrian was confirmed he was going to have to crack down on the officers even more harshly than on the men. They had to be hardened up, and quickly, if they were to be a match for the Judaean rebels, and any Parthian allies.