Cato 06 - The Eagles Prophecy Read Online Free PDF Page B

here.’
    ‘I’m Lollius Asinius. This here’s Hosidius Mutilus. Waiting for travel warrants to join the Tenth Legion. The youngster’s Flaccus Sosius. Looking for his first appointment.’
    The young officer smiled quickly as he fixed his attention on the new arrivals. ‘The Augusta? You’ve been in Britain then? What’s it like?’
    Macro concentrated for a moment before he replied, remembering the two years of the most intense fighting he had ever witnessed. So many men had died - good men he had known for years, and some he had barely had a chance to know before they were killed. Then there was the enemy: brutal and brave, and led by those deranged druid devils. What was it like? ‘Cold.’
    ‘Cold?’ Sosius looked confused.
    Macro nodded. ‘Yes, cold. Don’t ever go there. Get yourself a posting somewhere comfortable. Like Syria.’
    Cato shook his head in despair. As long as he had known Macro he had had to put up with the constant refrain that Syria was the best posting in the Empire. It was Macro’s lifelong ambition to wallow in the fleshpots of the east.
    ‘Syria?’ Asinius laughed. ‘We’ve just come back from there. Been training some auxiliary units at Damascus.’
    Macro leaned closer to Asinius, eyes bright with intense concentration.’Tell me about it - Syria. Is it as good as they say?’
    ‘Well, I don’t know about that, but-’
    The door to the procurator’s office swung open and a man strode out into the ante-room. At once Cato and Macro rose up and stood stiffly to attention, quickly followed by the others. Demetrius rose last of all, taking just long enough to register his lack of obeisance. The man was wearing the full ceremonial toga of a senator, with a broad purple stripe running along the hem. He nodded briefly to the centurions and strode out of the ante-room as Demetrius stepped into his master’s office.
    ‘Centurions Licinius Cato and Cornelius Macro to see you, sir.’
    ‘Are they on my list?’
    ‘An oversight, sir. I’ll punish the scribe responsible.’
    ‘Oh, very well. Send ‘em in.’
    Demetrius stood by the door and closed it behind them the moment the two centurions had entered the procurator’s office.
    They found themselves standing on a thick rug, one of several that filled the large room. It was situated on the corner of the palace and had windows on two sides. Glazed windows, Macro noted with scarcely hidden astonishment at the luxurious furnishing of the procurator’s office. On the far side, behind a marble-topped desk, sat the procurator, a fat man with a thick head of dark hair and a fistful of gold rings on the pudgy fingers of each hand. He glanced up with an irritable expression.
    ‘Well, get over here, then! Smartly now!’
    Macro and Cato marched over and stood to attention in front of the desk. The procurator snorted, and leaned back in his chair, revealing a rolling belly that stretched the wool fabric of his tunic. ‘What are you here for?’
    ‘We’re looking for reappointment to the legions, sir,’ said Cato.
    The procurator tapped a pile of waxed tablets on his desk. ‘So I understand. You must be Centurion Licinius Cato. You’ve been pushing for a new legion for several months now.’
    ‘Three months, sir,’ Cato replied.
    ‘Well, from the quantity of your correspondence and the endless haranguing of my clerks it feels like several months. Truth is, I cannot make any decision until I’m clear about your position.’
    ‘Our position?’ Macro cut in. ‘What do you mean, sir?’
    The procurator crossed his fingers and rested the folds of his chin on his knuckles. ‘A few days ago I received information that Centurion Cato was sentenced to death by General Plautius, the commander of the army in Britain. Is that true?’
    Cato felt a chilling sensation in the pit of his stomach. He nodded. ‘Yes, sir. But I can explain.’
    ‘I think you’d better.’
    Cato swallowed.’Our cohort was condemned to decimation for failing to