The Eagle In The Sand (44 page)

Cato did not reply. He was thinking of Yusef. Now he was more determined than ever that the boy must be rescued from Bannus and returned to Miriam. Only then could that small fragment of the cycle of destruction and despair be broken.

The messenger came early in the morning. Macro and Cato were eating a breakfast of figs and goats’ milk when Symeon emerged from the house with a smile.’The King has agreed to hand Bannus over to us. The Parthian prince will be returned to his kingdom. Soldiers are already on the way to the house where Bannus and his friends are staying, with orders to arrest them.’

Cato felt a lightness in his chest. ‘Then it’s over.’

‘Yes.’ Symeon smiled. ‘It’s over, and there will be some peace in Judaea, for now. The King has asked that we come to the palace to formally conclude matters, as soon as we receive the message.’

Macro jumped up, rubbing the sticky remains of his meal on the folds of his tunic. He beamed. ‘Well? What are we waiting for?’

They were shown into the chamberlain’s hall once again, and this time provided with chairs. A few clerks and officials sat with them, waiting for the chamberlain and the King to appear. For a while Macro sat contentedly, then he became slowly irritated by the growing delay and started tapping his foot, the sound echoing faintly off the walls, until Symeon reached over and held his knee still.

‘Where’s the bloody King, then?’ Macro grumbled. ‘We’ve been waiting ages.’

A side door opened and a clerk scuttled in and whispered something to one of the chamberlain’s advisers.The adviser glanced towards the Roman officers before he nodded to the clerk and crossed the hall towards Cato and Macro.

‘Something’s wrong,’ said Cato. ‘Something’s happened.’

‘What do you mean?’ Macro whispered irritably. ‘What could be wrong?’

‘Shhh.’

The adviser bowed his head to them and addressed Symeon in the local tongue. Cato watched Symeon’s response and saw the look of shock.

‘What is it?’

Symeon held up his hand to silence Cato and let the adviser finish his message. Then he turned to Macro and Cato.

‘Bannus has gone. When the soldiers arrived at the house to arrest him this morning the Parthians were still there, but Bannus was not in his room. Two horses are missing from the stables of the owner of the house. The soldiers immediately sent word to the guards on the entrance to the siq to stop anyone leaving the city. They were too late. The siq guards reported that a man left Petra at first light. He claimed to be a merchant, and he had a boy with him.’

Macro and Cato waited while Symeon rode into the wide mouth of the wadi and scanned the ground before him, looking for tracks. As the patch of stony ground gave way to the bright red sand he found what he was looking for and beckoned to the others. Macro and Cato urged their mounts forward, picking a route through the rocks until they reached their companion. Symeon had dismounted and pointed out the hoof imprints.

‘Definitely horses.’ He stood up and followed the line of the tracks stretching out into the sand until they faded in the distance, in line with the edge of a large dune and one of the vast towers of rock beyond.

‘It has to be Bannus,’ Cato commented. ‘Who else would ride into a wilderness like this?’

Macro grunted. He had finally consented to wear a headdress like the local people and was now grateful that it was keeping the sun off his head. Even so, it was three days since they had galloped out of the siq, desperately trying to catch up with Bannus. Initially there had been no indication which direction he had taken, but then the pursuers had chanced on a shepherd boy in the hills half a day’s ride to the south of Petra who had seen a man and a boy ride past, heading south. Symeon and the two Romans had followed, moving from sighting to sighting and once finding the smouldering remains of a small fire. They were already far off the established caravan routes and heading towards the deep desert of Arabia. A chance sighting of a puff of dust in the distance had drawn them to this vast expanse of red sand that formed the bed of a giant maze of sheer rock formations, known to the nearest tribes as Rhum. No horseman had any reason to be in a place like this, unless he was on the run.

‘Bannus,’ Symeon agreed, and remounted. He drew in his reins and they continued riding into the vast mouth of the wadi, which stretched out for miles ahead of them. The tracks were easy enough to follow, and Cato wondered why Bannus had chosen to cross terrain that would leave proof of his passing in such an obvious manner. But then, Bannus would be desperate, especially if he knew that he was being followed. The Nabataeans had immediately sent messengers south with a description of the man and so there would be little chance of hiding in that direction. All that was left to Bannus now was Arabia, and the hope that he could cross it and then ride north to his friends in Parthia. He no longer cared about hiding his tracks, only about putting as much distance as possible between him and his pursuers.

They rode on, the soft impact of the horses’ hooves providing the only sound amid the desolate landscape surrounding them. At the end of the wadi the tracks bent to the left and headed across a wide open stretch of sand, broken up by a handful of dunes, towards another rock formation two or three miles away. It was late in the afternoon and already long dark shadows stretched across sections of the desert. Halfway across this expanse Symeon halted them at the base of a dune and dismounted.

‘I’m going to have a look from the top. See if I can see any sign of him.’

‘I’m coming too,’ Cato decided and jumped down.

‘There’s no need.’

‘I’m worried about Yusef. I have to see for myself.’

Symeon shrugged and started to climb the side of the dune.

Cato turned to Macro. ‘Won’t be long.’

Macro reached for his canteen and took a small swig. ‘If you see any sign of water, let me know.’

Cato smiled, then moved off, following Symeon’s tracks up the dune. As soon as the slope made itself apparent the going became difficult as the sand shifted downhill under his feet, to such an extent that it felt as if he was making no progress at all. But eventually, exhausted, he flopped down beside Symeon and scanned the way ahead. On the far side of the dune the sand continued for another mile before it reached the rock formation. Now Cato could see that there was a cleft in the rocks that ran from top to bottom. At the base of the cliffs was a small clump of shrubs and a handful of stunted trees.

‘There’s water there.’

‘That’s not all.’ Symeon strained his eyes. ‘Look again.’

This time Cato saw it, the tiny shapes of two horses, almost lost against the shrubs, and the figure of a man, or a boy, sitting in the shade of one of the trees.

‘I can only see one of them.’

‘Calm yourself, Cato. We’ve seen no sign of a body since we’ve been following him. No body, no blood. I’m sure Yusef is over there with him.’

Cato wanted to believe it. ‘All right then, what shall we do?’

‘We have to wait. If we approach him now he’ll be sure to see our dust the moment we emerge from behind this dune. So we wait until dark, and then ride in.We can stop some distance before the rocks and continue on foot. If we can surprise Bannus then we might be able to grab Yusef before he can do anything.’

‘Right.’ Cato nodded. ‘That’s the plan then.’

The sun had sunk far below the rims of the peaks of Rhum and cast the whole area into dark shadow as the three horsemen reined in a quarter of a mile from the cleft in the rocks ahead. A small dune, little more than a fold in the land, concealed them from Bannus and they left their horses hobbled to prevent them from wandering into sight before the trap could be sprung. Then, stripping down to their tunics and taking only their swords with them, the three men crept forward.

Bannus had succeeded in lighting a fire and the glow of the flames cast an orange bloom on to the lowest reaches of the cliffs. As they crept forward Cato saw Bannus take a chunk of bread out of the saddlebag resting on the ground by his side. He bent over a bundle of rags on the ground and dropped the bread beside it. The rags moved and Cato realised it was Yusef. Tied up, but alive. As they drew close to the fire Cato saw that there was no cover between them and Bannus. If he looked into the desert he would surely be able to see them before long.

They continued, with painstaking caution, until they were within fifty paces of the fire and could hear the crackle of the flames and the hiss of the burning wood. Bannus was sitting with his side to them. Opposite him Yusef had managed to wriggle up into a sitting position and was eating the bread, held between his bound hands.

Macro tapped Cato’s arm and indicated that he was going to circle round behind Bannus, and Cato nodded that he understood. Both he and Symeon silently drew their swords and lay still, pressing themselves into the fine sand as Macro slid slowly to the right in a wide arc round behind Bannus until he was in line with his back, the fire, and Yusef beyond.Then Macro began to creep forward, in slow, gradual movements, until he was within twenty feet of his target. With pounding heart, and hardly daring to breathe, he eased himself up from the sand, drawing his feet under him then rising up, sword in hand, bracing himself to spring towards Bannus’ back.

Over Bannus’ shoulder Macro saw the boy suddenly gasp and start up, wide-eyed.

‘What is it?’ Bannus snapped, then a sixth sense made him spin round and he saw Macro launch himself forward. At once Bannus leaped up and sprinted round the fire, snatching out his curved dagger as he went. Cato and Symeon ran in towards the fire. Before any of them could stop him, Bannus had hauled the boy from the ground and now had his forearm locked across Yusef ’s throat, pinning him to his chest. The other hand was extended, fist clenching a dagger whose blade gleamed in the firelight.

‘Stand back!’ Bannus screamed. ‘Stand back! One step closer and I swear I’ll gut the boy!’

Macro stood only a spear’s length away, crouching low, sword point raised. The others were slightly further off, and spread out, so that Bannus had to keep twisting his neck to keep them all in sight.

‘Don’t move!’

Yusef raised his bound hands and started to claw at the hairy forearm across his throat.

‘He can’t breathe,’ Cato said calmly. ‘Bannus, you’re killing him.’

Bannus stared back suspiciously for an instant, and then relented, loosening his grip just enough to let Yusef gasp some air into his lungs.

‘That’s better,’ said Cato. ‘Now, we have to talk . . . again.’

‘We said all we had to say last time.’

‘There’s no escape now, Bannus.You must surrender. But you can do one good thing before it’s over. Spare the boy and return him to Miriam.’

‘No!’

‘What choice have you got?’ Cato pleaded. ‘We cannot let you escape again. Let him go.’

‘No. Symeon! Saddle my horse. You, Roman – the short one. Your mounts have to be nearby. Bring them here!’

‘Fetch them yourself, fuckwit,’ Macro growled.

Bannus raised his blade to Yusef ’s face and, with a deft flick, nicked his cheek.The boy yelped with pain as a thin trickle of blood coursed down his cheek and across Bannus’ forearm.

‘Next time, I’ll take one of his eyes out. Now get the horses, Roman.’

Symeon looked on in horror before he turned to Macro. ‘For pity’s sake do as he says.’

‘I am not going to let him escape,’ Macro said firmly. ‘Whatever he threatens to do to the boy. It ends here.’

‘Macro, I beg you.’ Symeon’s voice was broken with anxiety. ‘Not the boy. He’s all that Miriam has.’

Macro did not reply, and did not take his eyes off Bannus as he stood poised to strike. So it was Cato who first noticed the figures emerging from the darkness of the desert. A dozen camel riders in dark robes, quickly fanning out so that the five figures by the fire were surrounded.

‘Macro,’ Cato said softly. ‘Sheathe your sword, slowly.’

Symeon and Cato did the same and turned towards the new arrivals. There was a moment of stillness in which Cato felt himself and his companions scrutinised by the silent riders. Bannus lowered his knife, but kept his arm firmly round Yusef.

Cato whispered, ‘Symeon, who are they?’

‘Bedu.’ Symeon raised a hand in greeting and spoke to the newcomers. A voice replied in kind and one of the riders edged his camel closer. At a series of tongue clicks and taps from his crop the camel’s front legs folded, then the back legs, and the rider eased himself from the saddle. He lowered his veil and stared at them all with dark eyes before he started speaking to Symeon again. Then he turned and snapped out some orders to his men and they also began to dismount. One of the men who had been in the shadows held the reins of the three horses that had been left in the desert.

‘What do they want?’ Cato asked.

‘Water. There’s a spring in that fissure. He says it belongs to his tribe and that we are trespassing.’

Macro edged closer to the others. ‘Fine, so what does he intend to do about it?’

The Bedu leader ordered some of his men to collect waterskins and they disappeared into the fissure. Then he turned back to Symeon and spoke again.

‘He wants to know what we are doing here.’

Cato glanced at Macro. ‘We’ve nothing to hide. Tell him the truth.’

There was another exchange before Symeon relayed the details. ‘I told him Bannus is our enemy. I asked him if he would let us take Bannus and the boy and leave. He said no.’

‘No?’ Cato felt a chill in the back of his neck. ‘Why not? What does he want from us?’

‘He demands that we pay a price for trespassing on their land.’

‘What price? We have nothing of value.’

Symeon smiled faintly. ‘Except our lives.’

‘They mean to kill us?’

Macro’s hand tightened on his sword handle. ‘Let them bloody try.’

‘Not quite,’ Symeon replied. ‘He said that since we were enemies, we should finish our fight here, in the light of this fire. One of us will fight Bannus. If our man wins we can leave with the boy. If Bannus wins, he leaves with the boy and you two will be killed.’