Cato 06 - The Eagles Prophecy Read Online Free PDF

taking another corridor. The rooms leading off this corridor were bright and spacious, and most had windows that must provide fine views across the city. The slave boy drew up outside a wide doorway and rapped on the wooden frame.
    ‘Enter!’ a high-pitched voice called out.
    Before they passed through the door Cato quickly whispered to his friend, ‘Let me do the talking. I know my way round these palace types.’
    The slave boy led the two centurions inside and they found they were in an ante-room. Two benches were arranged along the wall opposite three windows that let in plenty of light and air. Too much, thought Cato, as he felt the chill. At the far end of the room was a closed door. To one side of it was a large desk made of some dark wood, and behind it sat the clerk Cato had met briefly the day before. Demetrius was a slight man in a plain but freshly laundered tunic. He had the classic Greek profile and his thinning hair was carefully arranged in dark oiled curls. His whole bearing spoke of the power and influence he thought he wielded. Beside him stood a brazier, glowing warmly. Three other officers were sitting on the bench nearest to the heat.
    Demetrius glanced up from a scroll and beckoned to them.’Centurions Macro and Cato? You’re late.’
    Macro puffed out his cheeks, but Cato responded before his friend could protest. ‘We were held up at the entrance. The guard had no record of our meeting.’ Cato smiled.’You know what they’re like. I hope we’re not too late for our meeting with the procurator.’
    ‘You’ve missed it,’ Demetrius said tonelessly.
    ‘Missed it?’ Macro jabbed a finger at him. ‘Now, just you look here-’
    ‘Come back tomorrow.’
    ‘Not on your life.’
    Demetrius shrugged. ‘Your loss.’ He glanced at the messenger boy. ‘Please show these two gentlemen the way out of the palace.’
    ‘We’re staying!’ Macro growled. ‘And we will see the procurator. You’d better make sure of that.’
    ‘The procurator’s a busy man. You should have been here at the appointed time.’
    Macro leaned over the desk and glared at the clerk. ‘And you should have made sure our names were on that list.’
    ‘Not my problem.’
    ‘Then I’ll make it your problem.’ Macro reached for his sword, and Demetrius glanced down at the pommel as the first length of blade emerged from the scabbard. He flinched and his eyes flickered back to meet Macro’s cold, determined expression.
    ‘You wouldn’t dare.’
    ‘Try me.’
    For a moment Demetrius wavered, and glanced to the other officers in a silent appeal for help, but they just smiled back and didn’t move. ‘I’ll call the guards.’
    ‘You can,’ Macro nodded.’But long before they get here, I’d have lobbed your scrawny arse out of the window. Must be a long way down . . .’ He smiled at the clerk. ‘Now can we please have our meeting with the procurator?’
    Demetrius swallowed and fumbled for a waxed slate on his desk. ‘Yes, er, let me see. He could spare you a few moments at the end of his current meeting, I suppose.’ He looked up desperately. ‘If you’ll just take a seat . . .’
    Macro straightened up and nodded with satisfaction. ‘Thank you.’
    As he and Cato joined the other officers on the bench he glanced at Cato and winked. ‘I’ll do the talking from now on. Think I’ve got the measure of these palace types.’
    The other officers craned round to introduce themselves. Two of them were veterans; grizzled and scarred beneath coarse hair that was going grey. They each had a chest full of medallions on their harnesses and one wore a gold torque on his wrist. The third officer was a young man, recently kitted out and with not one decoration on his harness. He looked awkward and uneasy in the company of the vastly more experienced men.
    One of the veterans nodded over towards Demetrius. ‘Nice job, Centurion . . . is it Macro or Cato?’
    ‘Macro. Lately of the Second Legion Augusta. Same as Cato