Simon Scarrow: The Eagles Prophecy

'You'd better pray that comes off easily…'

The Roman glanced down.'This? It's been in my family for generations. My father wore it before me, and my son will wear it after me.'

'Don't be too sure.' The captain's amusement flickered across his scarred features. 'Now then, who are you? Any man who travels with four brick shit-houses for company has got to be someone with influence… and wealth.'

Now it was the Roman's turn to smile. 'More than you can imagine.'

'I doubt it. I have quite an imagination when it comes to wealth. Now, much as I'd like the rare opportunity of sharing some talk with a man of culture I'm afraid we haven't the time. There's a chance that one of the lookouts at Ravenna witnessed our little naval action and has passed the word on to the local navy commander. Good as my ships are, I doubt they'd outfight an imperial squadron. So who are you, Roman? I'm asking for the last time.'

'Very well. Caius Caelius Secundus, at your service.' He bowed his head.

'Now that's a nice, noble-sounding name. I imagine your family might be able to stump up a decent ransom?'

'Of course. Name a price – a reasonable price. It'll be paid, then you can set me and my baggage ashore.'

'As easy as that?' The captain smiled. 'I'll have to consider…'

'Captain! Captain!'

There was a commotion from aft as a pirate burst from the hatch leading down into the passengers' quarters. He was carrying something bundled in a plain cotton sheet. He held it up as he scurried forward.

'Captain, look! Look at this!'

All faces turned towards the man as he ran to the bows, and then dropped to his knees as he carefully laid the bundle down and swept the folds of cloth back to reveal a small chest, constructed from a dark smooth wood, almost black. It had a glassy gleam that spoke of age and many hands caressing its surface. The wood was reinforced by bands of gold. Where the bands intersected, small onyx cameos were set into the gold, likenesses of the most powerful of the Greek gods. A small silver plate on the lid bore the legend 'M. Antonius hic fecit'.

'Mark Antony?' For a moment the pirate captain was lost in admiration for the beauty of the thing, and then his professional mind began calculating its worth, and he looked up at the Roman.

'Yours?'

The face of Caius Caelius Secundus was blank.

'All right then, not yours… but in your possession. Quite a piece of work. Must be worth a fortune.'

'It is,' the Roman conceded. 'And you may have it.'

'Oh…may I?' Telemachus replied with elaborate irony. 'Most kind of you. I think I will.'

The Roman bowed his head graciously. 'Just permit me to keep the contents.'

The captain looked at him sharply. 'Contents?'

'A few books. Something for me to read, while the ransom is arranged.'

'Books? What kind of books would be kept in a box like that, I wonder?'

'Just histories,' the Roman explained quickly. 'Nothing that would interest you.'

'Let me be the judge of that,' the captain replied, and bent down to examine the chest more closely.

There was a small keyhole in the front and the chest had been so finely constructed that only the faintest of lines showed where the lid met the bottom half of the chest. The captain glanced up.

'Give me the key.'

'I-I haven't got it.'

'No games, Roman. I want the key, now. Or you'll be feeding the fish, in small pieces.'

For a moment the Roman did not reply, or make any move. Then there was a glittering flash as the captain's arm swung up and the point of his sword stopped a finger's breadth from the Roman's throat, steady as a rock, as if it had never moved. The Roman flinched, and now at last he revealed his fear.

'The key…' Telemachus said softly.

Secundus grasped the ring with the fingers of his other hand and struggled to get it off. It fitted his finger snugly, and his manicured fingernails tore at the skin as he tried to free it. At last, lubricated by smears of blood, the ring came free with a grunt of effort and pain. He hesitated a moment and then offered it to the pirate captain, his fingers slowly uncurling to reveal the gold band resting in the palm of his hand. Only it wasn't just a ring. On the underside, running parallel to the finger, a small, elegantly crafted shaft protruded, with an ornate device at the end.

'There.' The Roman's shoulders sagged in defeat as the pirate captain grasped the ring and fitted the key to the lock. It was designed to be inserted one way only, and he struggled a while before he managed to find the correct orientation. Meanwhile, the rest of his crew crowded forward to see what was happening. The key slotted home, the captain eased it round. There was a soft click and the lid eased up a fraction. With eager fingers Telemachus raised the lid, swinging it back on its hinges to reveal the contents.

He frowned. 'Scrolls?'

In the small chest lay three large scrolls, fastened to ivory pins and covered with soft leather sleeves. The covers were so faded and stained that the captain guessed the books must be antique. He stared at them in disappointment. A chest like this should have contained a fortune in jewels or coins. Not books. Why the hell would a man travel with such a wondrous chest, only to use it to carry a few weathered scrolls in?

'Like I said,' the Roman forced a smile, 'just scrolls.'

The pirate captain flashed him a shrewd look.'Just scrolls? I don't think so.'

He stood up and turned towards his crew. 'Get this chest and the rest of the loot on to our ships! Get moving!'

The pirates bent to their task at once, hurriedly transferring the most valuable items of the cargo on to the decks of the two liburnians tied alongside. The bulk of the cargo was marble; valuable but too heavy to load on to the pirate vessels. It did have one immediate use, the pirate captain thought, smiling. It would take the ship straight to the bottom when the time came.

'What are you going to do with us?' Secundus asked.

The pirate captain turned from supervising his men, and saw the sailors watching him closely, making little effort to hide their fear.

Telemachus scratched the stubble on his chin. 'I've lost some good men today. Too many good men. I'll make do with some of yours.'

The Roman sneered. 'What if we won't join you?'

'We?' The captain smiled slowly at him.'I have no use for a pampered Roman aristocrat. You'll be joining the rest of them, the ones who won't be coming with us.'

'I see.' The Roman squinted towards the horizon and the distant lighthouse at Ravenna, calculating the distance.

The captain suddenly laughed, and shook his head. 'No, you don't see. There'll be no help from your navy. You and the others will be dead long before they could send a ship out here. Besides, there won't be anything left for them to find. You and this ship will be going down together.'

Telemachus didn't wait for a response, but swiftly turned away, striding back across the deck and swinging himself down on to the deck of his vessel with well-practised ease. The chest was already waiting for him at the foot of the mast, but he spared it only a brief greedy glance as he stopped to give his orders.

'Hector!'

The grizzled head of a stocky giant loomed over the rail of the merchantman. 'Yes, chief?'

'Prepare to fire the vessel. But not before you pick the best of the prisoners. I want them taken on board your ship. You can kill the rest. Leave that arrogant prick of a Roman till last. I want him to sweat a little before you deal with him.'

Hector grinned, and disappeared from sight. Shortly afterwards there was a series of splintering crashes as the pirates cut some timber to build a pyre in the hold of the merchantman. The captain turned his attention back to the chest, squatting down in front of it again. Looking closely, he became aware of just how fine a piece of craftsmanship this was. His fingers stroked the rich sheen of the surface and bumped lightly over the gold and onyx cameos. Telemachus shook his head again. 'Scrolls…'