The Eagle In The Sand by Simon Scarrow Page A

racked with agony. As he lay still, straining his ears to pick up the sounds of the people in the house and the village beyond, he cursed Symeon for leaving him here. Leaving him alone. If he was just concealing the horses, then why in Hades had he not returned long ago? Cato had no idea how long he had been lying there in the dark. He knew that it was light outside, but was it the day of the ambush? Or the next day? How long had he been unconscious? He should have asked Miriam whilst she was there. As his anxiety swelled he rolled his head to the side and glanced round the room.
    A short distance away, bundled against the wall, lay his armour, his harness, his boots and his sword belt. He gritted his teeth and shifted himself over, reaching out with his fingers. They groped for the sword belt, grasped it; tugged until the pommel came free of the scale armour. His fingers closed round the hilt, and as quietly as he could he drew the sword. It rasped faintly in the scabbard and he winced. Then the blade was free and he lifted the weapon across his body and wedged it between the bedroll and the wall, out of sight, but to hand if he needed it. The effort had made his arm muscles tremble and Cato had just enough energy to reach over and push the empty scabbard back under his mail vest before he collapsed back on to the bolster, fighting the waves of pain that pounded against the inside of his skull. He shut his eyes, breathing deeply, and slowly the pain subsided, his body relaxed and he fell asleep.
    When he woke again the door was open and from the wan glow of the light shining through the opening he could tell that it must be late in the afternoon. He heard voices outside the room. Miriam and Symeon. They spoke in Greek, in low familiar tones, and Cato strained his ears to catch their words.
    ‘Why did you not come back to us?’ Miriam was asking. ‘We needed you.You’re a good man.’
    ‘But not good enough, it seemed. Not for you at least.’
    ‘Symeon, I’m sorry. I loved you – I still do, but . . . I couldn’t, and still can’t, love you as you want to be loved. I must be strong for these people. They look to me for guidance. They look to me for love. If I took you as my man I would betray them. I will not do it.’
    ‘Fine!’ Symeon snorted. ‘Then you will die alone, if that’s what you want.’
    ‘Perhaps . . . If that is my fate.’
    ‘But you don’t have to.You could have me.’
    ‘No,’ she said bitterly. ‘You think of nobody but yourself.You renounced the rest of us, because we refused to follow your path.You and Bannus were so convinced that your way was the only way.That’s your trouble.That’s why you could never be a part of what we are trying to create here.’
    ‘What do you think you can achieve? You are taking on an empire, Miriam. Armed with what – faith? I know who I’d place my money on.’
    ‘Now you sound just like Bannus.’
    Symeon took a sharp breath, then continued in a cold rage. ‘You dare to compare me to him . . .’
    Before Miriam could reply there was a shout from the street and footsteps pattered into the house.
    ‘Miriam!’Yusef was excited. ‘Horsemen are coming.’
    ‘Whose?’ Symeon asked.
    ‘I – I don’t know. But they’re riding fast. They’ll be here any minute.’
    ‘Damn! Miriam, we must hide.’
    ‘I’m not hiding. Not any more.’
    ‘Not you! Me and the Roman.’
    ‘Oh! All right. Quickly, come this way.’ She hurried into the room and pointed to Cato. ‘Get him up.’
    Symeon squeezed past her, and thrusting his arms under Cato’s shoulders he hauled him up and supported him on his feet. Miriam rolled the end of the mattress back to reveal a small wooden hatch. She lifted it by a metal ring and slid it to one side.
    ‘In there! Both of you, quickly.’
    Symeon dragged Cato over to the opening and dropped him down. Cato fell four or five feet beneath the floor and landed heavily. He had just enough strength to roll to one side as