corpses littering his wake. Of course, Cato thought, that presupposed the man had a conscience to be perturbed by the decisions of life and death that he made every day. What if he didn’t? What if the euphemisms were merely a matter of rhetorical style? Cato shuddered. In that case Narcissus was completely without ethics. The ideal of Rome was no more than a hollow edifice whose real centre was the simple, unadorned greed and lust for power of the elite few. Cato tried to shake off such thoughts as he forced his mind to focus on the matter at hand.
‘I didn’t think you placed much faith in such prophecies?’
‘Normally, I don’t,’ Narcissus admitted. ‘But it so happens that the same day I read of this supposed threat to Rome, a rather disturbing intelligence dossier, compiled from reports from my agents in the eastern provices, happened to cross my desk. It seems that there is a confluence of dangers in the region. For one thing, these followers of Jehoshua are divided. One tendency, the version that even has its adherents in Rome, preaches some kind of unworldly pacifism. That we can live with. After all, what possible danger could come from such a philosophy? It is the second tendency that concerns me. The movement is led by Bannus of Canaan. He preaches resistance to Rome, by any and all means available to the people of Judaea. If that kind of philosophy overspilled the borders of the province then we really would be in trouble.’
‘Indeed.’ Cato nodded. ‘But you implied there were more threats. What else is there?’
‘Our old adversary, Parthia, on the one hand. Parthia is making a play for Palmyra; territory that directly encroaches on our frontier. Unhappily, this, the worsening situation in Judaea, and the rise of this man Bannus are further complicated by the fact that the Governor of Syria has been linked to the Liberators. Put it all together and even a cynical rationalist like me would consider it more than a little foolhardy to ignore the words of the prophecy.’
‘What are you saying exactly?’ Cato frowned. ‘The prophecy could refer to any of these threats, assuming it has any validity at all.’
Narcissus leaned back in his chair and sighed. For a moment he said nothing, and Cato was conscious for the first time of the rattling of rain against the window. The wind must have changed.A distant flash of sheet lightning momentarily silhouetted the Imperial Secretary and after a pause the sound of thunder grumbled across the city.
Narcissus stirred. ‘That’s my problem, Cato. The wording is vague enough to embrace all of those threats. I need someone to investigate the matter further, assess the dangers, and if possible resolve them.’
‘Resolve?’ Cato smiled. ‘Now that’s a vague term if ever I heard one. Covers a multitude of possibilities.’
‘Of course it does.’ Narcissus smiled back. ‘And it’s up to you to discern the best means of resolving any issue you judge to constitute a threat to the Emperor.’
‘Me?’
‘You and Macro, of course. You can pick him up in Ravenna when you board a ship bound for the east.’
‘Now, wait a moment-‘
‘Unfortunately, we can’t wait. There’s no time to waste.You must leave Rome immediately.’
Cato stared back at Narcissus with a hostile expression.’That last mission you sent us on nearly got us killed.’
‘You’re a soldier. Getting yourself killed is an occupational hazard.’
Cato stared at the Imperial Secretary for a moment, consumed with rage and a sense of injustice. He forced himself to answer as calmly as he could. ‘Macro and I don’t deserve this. Haven’t we done enough for you already?’
‘No man can do enough in the service of Rome.’
‘Find someone else. Someone better suited to this kind of work. Let Macro and me get back to soldiering. It’s what we do best.’
‘You’re both fine soldiers,’ Narcissus agreed smoothly. ‘As good as they come.And being soldiers is a useful