Cato 06 - The Eagles Prophecy (51 page)

Minucius nodded slowly. ‘It seems you’ve thought of everything, sir.’

‘I’ve tried to. So what do you say, Centurion?’

‘It’s all very interesting,’ said Minucius. ‘So what’s in this box you’re prepared to risk our lives for?’

‘Nothing that would concern you. Nothing you would want. Now, do we have a deal?’

Minucius thought for a moment and shrugged. ‘What choice do I have? If I say no, you’ll kill me and take him anyway.’

‘Of course. So do the logical thing. Believe me, it’s for the best. It will be dangerous. But if we’re successful you’ll be the richest man in Ravenna. By a long way.’

‘What’s to stop you killing me once I hand the prisoner over?’

‘I’ve far more to gain by having you work with us. Besides, what would be the point? There’ll be much more treasure there than the three of you can carry off so we have nothing to gain by treachery and everything to gain by working with you.’

Minucius stared at him a moment and then thrust out his hand and grasped that of the tribune. ‘You have a deal, sir.’

‘Good man! Now let’s get the prisoner and get going. There’s no time to waste.’

Minucius undid the prisoner’s chain and pulled him up. One of the bodyguards set to work with the tip of his sword, working the ring bolt loose. As soon as it dropped to the deck he reached into his belt-purse, took out a nail and laid it down beside the ring bolt.

‘There,’ Vitellius smiled. ‘Clear evidence of our resourceful prisoner’s escape. Now let’s get going.’

The five men climbed the gangway up to the deck, moved towards the stern of the trireme and climbed down over the side into one of the small boats moored to the warship. Vitellius took his place in the bows, Minucius and Ajax in the stern and the two bodyguards took an oar each. Untying the mooring line, they thrust the boat out from the trireme and clumsily placed their oars into the holding pegs. One of the blades splashed down into the water.

‘Quiet, you fools!’ Vitellius hissed. ‘Take it easy. We mustn’t be seen or heard!’

Chastened, the two bodyguards went about their work carefully, gently dipping the oars in, pulling a slow stroke and then sweeping the blades of the oars back across the surface for the next stroke. The surface of the bay was calm and the boat glided across towards the dark mass of the rock upon which the citadel rested. As the boat pulled past the dark strip of the causeway their passage was punctuated by the sounds of the onagers striking their retaining bars and the more distant crunch of the impacts.

Minucius leaned closer to Ajax and whispered,’Why are you helping them?’

‘To live,’ the young man whispered back. ‘He promised to let me and my father escape when it’s over.’

‘I see.’ Minucius was surprised at the young man’s gullibility, but then maybe he had been so broken by his torture that he would believe almost anything with a quite pathetic conviction.

They made for the point at which the cliff face dipped slightly towards the sea below and soon the sound of waves lapping against the bottom of the cliff could be heard from the small boat.

‘Stop rowing,’ Vitellius called softly.’Ajax, what now?’

‘Go forward. See that rock. Go round it. Slowly.’

The boat eased forward, towards a seemingly unbroken line of rocks, one was bigger than the rest. The gentle swell swept against them in a faint wash and hiss, and for a moment Minucius was sure that the pirate deliberately intended to wreck the boat on the rocks. Then he saw what Ajax had been looking for: a narrow opening behind the larger rock that led into a small pool beyond. Vitellius’ bodyguards immediately rowed hard for the opening and the boat shot through the gap into the sheltered water beyond. There was a flat slab of rock at the base of the cliff, which towered over them until, at the top, they could make out the faint loom of the whitewashed buildings that perched above the sea.

‘There,’ Vitellius pointed, and the boat eased forward and bumped against the rock. The tribune scrambled over the side and stepped ashore, keeping a firm grip on the mooring rope. One of his bodyguards went after him while his comrade helped Ajax and Minucius out of the boat.

‘Sir, shall I tie her up?’ asked one of the bodyguards.

‘No. Best pull the boat up, over by the base of the cliff where it won’t be seen.’

While the two men heaved the boat out of the water and dragged it across the seaweed-covered rocks, Vitellius led the others over to the foot of the cliff and at once saw the beginnings of an uneven line of hand and footholds that led up the rock face. He tested the first few and climbed up four or five feet before nodding in satisfaction and dropping back down beside the others. Vitellius turned to one of his bodyguards.

‘Trebius, you first. Go up and see where this comes out. We’ll follow behind …’

‘Yes, sir.’ The man’s reluctance to climb a cliff in the dark was evident to all, and Vitellius leaned closer to him.

‘Think of the treasure, man. Now go.’

The bodyguard started up the cliff-face, climbing steadily from hold to hold. Vitellius waited a moment and then heaved himself up. ‘Me next. Then Ajax, then Minucius. If the boy tries anything funny, silence him, Centurion.’

‘Yes, sir.’

Vitellius nodded to his other bodyguard. ‘You take up the rear, Silus.’

They slowly ascended the cliff, taking great care. Ajax, who had climbed the cliff many times before, was much more certain of the way and would have pulled far ahead of Minucius had the centurion not grasped his ankle and reminded him of Vitellius’ threat. Twice the lead man lost his way and the others had to stop while he backtracked, and Ajax whispered instructions to help him find the right holds again. But at last they emerged, one by one, into a small cutting at the top of the cliff where the ground was strewn with fallen rubble and Vitellius realised that they were standing in the ruins of a house that must have collapsed into the sea. Around them rose the pale walls of other houses, their windows shuttered against the cool night air. For a while they sat in silence, recovering their breath.

Then Vitellius whispered, ‘Boots off. Tie the laces and hang ‘em round your neck.’

Once they were ready he nudged their prisoner.’Time to move. Remember, the centurion will be right behind you. You try anything, and he’ll kill you before you know it. Understand?’

‘Yes,’ Ajax replied softly as he rose up. ‘This way.’

He led them over the rubble until they came to the remains of a wall that gave out on to a narrow street beyond. They waited a moment to make sure that all was still and then climbed quietly over the crumbling masonry and crossed to the black shadow of the building opposite.

‘How far?’ Vitellius whispered.

‘Up this way, across a small junction, up the slope to the gate.’

‘You go first.’

For an instant, Vitellius thought he made out a smile on Ajax’s face, but it was probably just a shadow. Then the young man crept forward, closely followed by the four Romans, as they silently made their way up a narrow cobbled street, boots bumping their breasts as their bare feet padded over the stones. Ahead a dim light glimmered, silhouetting the end of the street, and revealing the open space beyond. Ajax crept forward, but Minucius held him back firmly, then went ahead and peered slowly round the corner.

The junction opened on to a small square and in the far corner a fire burned on the cobbles. Around it huddled the sleeping forms of men wrapped in blankets. One was awake and sat with his back to the junction, staring into the flames. Keeping his eyes on the man, Minucius waved the others on and he grabbed Ajax’s wrist as the young man trotted by. They ran along the front of the run-down houses facing the square. Crouching low, they moved as quickly as they could without creating any sound, until they were clear of the square and had disappeared back into the shadows of a short alley that led up to a large gateway. The doors had long since rotted and now leaned against the sides of the arch. Ahead was a small courtyard and beyond it, the squat, square mass of an old fortified watchtower. Light spilled from the edges of a shuttered window at the top of the tower and on the platform above they could hear men talking in low voices.

Minucius stopped inside the arch and pulled Ajax down while the others came up behind.

‘Is this the place?’ Vitellius asked softly.

Ajax nodded.

‘Where are the sentries? There should be sentries at least.’

‘Maybe they’re down by the wall,’ Minucius muttered.’In case Vespasian tries an assault in the night.’

‘So who’s up there on the tower?’

‘Catapult crew,’ said Ajax. ‘There’s one mounted on top of the tower.’

Vitellius glanced up at the dim outline of the battlements, then looked carefully around the courtyard before turning back to Ajax. ‘All right then, how do we get inside?’

‘Follow me.’ Ajax rose up, still in the centurion’s grasp, and pointed with his spare hand. Vitellius pressed Minucius in the back.

‘All right. Go.’

They crossed the courtyard and moved down the side of the tower until they came to a large studded door. Minucius groped across the weathered timber and his fingers closed on a large heavy iron latch. He was about to lift it when there was a sudden snort only a few paces away, and a shape stirred on the ground, before a raucous snoring rumbled in the darkness. All five of them started at the noise, and when he recovered from the shock, Vitellius pulled Trebius closer and whispered. ‘Take care of him.’

There was a quiet scraping from the man’s scabbard. The bodyguard leaned over the snoring sentry and, clamping a hand over the man’s mouth, he thrust the tip of his dagger under the sentry’s chin, through the bottom of the skull into his brain, and twisted the handle violently from side to side. The sentry’s body spasmed, and jerked before going completely inert. Trebius slowly removed his hand and pulled the blade free. He wiped it on the sentry’s tunic and returned the dagger to its scabbard. He bent down, lifted the body under the shoulders and dragged it round the corner before padding back to the others.

‘Inside,’ Vitellius commanded, and Minucius lifted the latch and slowly pushed the door back. The faint creak did not create an echo and he knew that there was only a small space beyond the door. The centurion stepped inside tentatively and slid his bare feet to and fro, until his shin brushed up against the edge of something hard. He leaned forward and felt with his hands. A step, and beyond that another.

‘Stairs, here to the right of the door,’ Minucius whispered. ‘What now, lad?’

‘Go up. My father’s quarters are on the corridor to the left. The stairs continue up to the catapult platform at the far end.’

Minucius led the way on all fours, a step at a time until his fingers detected the landing. He peered round and saw a dim light under a door a few feet away. Beyond that the corridor was barely visible before the darkness swallowed it up again. The centurion crept forward to the door, lowered his head to the stone floor and squinted through the small crack running along the bottom of the door. He could see the legs of various pieces of furniture, a discarded cloak and a few chests. There was no sign of anyone. He listened a moment, but there was only the distant murmuring of voices from above.

‘I think we’re alone,’ he whispered towards the staircase, and there was a faint shuffling as the others joined him.

‘Stay back and keep hold of Ajax,’ said Vitellius. ‘My bodyguards will go in first . . . Right, open the door.’

The latch grated faintly and then the glimmer along the floor instantly spread up alongside the door as it opened and a moment later they were looking into Telemachus’ quarters. As the bodyguards padded ahead, Vitellius and the others followed them inside and the tribune quietly shut the door behind them.

They had the room to themselves and all four Romans breathed easily as the tension subsided. The room was large and almost square, with a shuttered window in each of the external walls. The remains of a fire glowed in a hearth and lit the room in a rich orange hue. A couch covered in a fine woven rug stood in one corner. At the other end of the room was a large wooden table and behind it a huge chair that looked more like a throne. On either side of the table were stacked small chests. Vitellius looked at them eagerly and then turned to his bodyguards.

‘There you go, boys! Just as he said. Come on, let’s have a look.’

Trebius and Silus crossed over to the table and Vitellius lifted the lid of the topmost chest. Inside they saw the dull gleam of gold. He lowered a hand, clenched a fistful of coins and raised them up for the others to see. The bodyguards and Minucius could not help but grin at the sight. Vitellius smiled at their reaction.’You can help yourselves, but keep it quiet. Now then,’ he turned to Ajax. ‘Show me the one I want.’

There was a slight hesitation as the pirate ran his eyes over the chests, then he pointed.’That one there, under the table.’

Vitellius’ eyes followed the direction indicated and he saw an ornately decorated black box. He bent down and retrieved it. His heart was beating fast as he placed the box on the table. Vitellius could hardly believe he was in the presence of the Sybilline scrolls. He ran his hands across the lid, down to the catch and slid it open.There was a keyhole - but the box was not locked. He took a deep breath and lifted the lid. Inside, in the light cast by the fire, he saw three thick scrolls, in soft leather covers, laying side by side.