'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.

'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.