The Gladiator

'And you might as well take charge of the crew and passengers,' Sempronius continued. 'Add them to the cohort. They may not be soldiers, but they're good men. They've more than proved that they can be useful in a crisis.'

'I'll see to it.'

'Sailors?' Centurion Portillus shook his head. 'In the Twelfth Hispania? The lads'll not stand for it, sir.'

'They'll stand for whatever I tell them to, ' Macro said firmly. 'And from what I've seen so far, they'll be a welcome addition to the slackers lounging around the acropolis. Now then, Portillus, I want all the men and officers assembled for parade. Time for them to meet their new commander.'

As Portillus hurried off to carry out his orders, Sempronius clasped Macro's hand.' Good luck, Centurion. Do what you can. If you need to report anything, send word to me at Gortyna.'

'Yes, sir. How long do you intend staying there?'

Sempronius thought for a moment and then shrugged. 'As long as it takes, I suppose. The gods only know what we will find there, and what the situation is across the rest of the province. Once I've assessed the situation I will send word to you here in Matala.'

The senator and Cato took some cloaks from the prefect's quarters to keep them warm during the night's ride to Gortyna, then chose two of the best horses from the prefect's stable in the corner of the acropolis's courtyard and mounted up. As they clopped out of the gate, the men of the cohort were already shambling into formation, under Macro's disapproving glare as he stood in the shade of the basilica's colonnade. Cato twisted in the saddle as they rode past.

'See you soon, Macro.'

'Take care, Cato. I've a feeling we're in for a bastard time of it.'

Sempronius clicked his tongue and urged his horse into a trot as they approached the gate and then rode down the ramp towards the main street of the town, lined with ruins. As they passed through the remains of the gate, Cato took a last look towards the sea. Although he could not see the side of the bay where the Horus was beached, he felt his heart stir with anxiety for Julia's safety.

Sempronius noticed the expression on the young officer's face and smiled.' Rest easy, Cato. No harm will come to her while she's in Macro's care.'

43

Cato forced himself to smile back. 'I know. I pity any man who would try and cross him.'

They rode away from the city following the Gortyna road over rolling hills, where they passed further scenes of destruction caused by the earthquake. Many more villas, farms and roadside shrines had been toppled and were now no more than heaps of bricks, tiles and timber. The survivors had dragged out the injured and some of the bodies, which lay in makeshift shrouds waiting for burial or cremation. The living stared at the passing horsemen with gaunt expressions of horror and numbed shock, and Cato felt guilty as he followed Sempronius and tried to ignore the suffering that stretched out mile after mile along the road to Gortyna.

As dusk settled, Sempronius gave the order to stop and rest the horses at the edge of a small village. Not one house had survived and there was a dreadful stillness in the gathering gloom as figures huddled in whatever shelter they could find for the night. There were no cries of grief, and no moans from the wounded. The only sound was a light sobbing from the remains of a small farm close by. Cato tethered his horse to the stump of a tree and made his way over towards the source of the crying.

'Cato, ' Sempronius called softly. 'Don't go far.'

Cato nodded and continued forward cautiously. In the gloom he could make out the line of a fallen wall and tiles scattered across the ground. The sound came more clearly. Crouching down close to the blocks of stone that made up the wall, he saw a flicker of movement beneath some of the tiles close by. He leaned forward and carefully removed the nearest tile. There was a startled cry, and Cato saw the top half of a small child, no more than two years old, lying on its back. The child was naked and the puffy pale flesh was smeared with grime and blood. The tile had struck its head, gouging. a patch of scalp away, and a tacky black mass of dried blood and matted hair covered one side. The child's eyes were open, and wide blue eyes gazed intently at Cato as the whimpering continued.

'You're all right, ' Cato said gently. 'Shhh, you're all right.'

He cleared the debris away from the exposed half of the child's body and then saw that a large slab of stone lay just below the waist, covering the legs. He took hold of the edges of the stone and eased it up now able to see that the child was male. As the pressure came off the boy's pelvis and legs he screamed, a shrill, piercing cry of agony. Cato flung the stone aside and took the boy's hand.