Rome 3: The Eagle of the Twelfth (42 page)

This one, he used as a pen to draw on the hard rock. ‘According to ben Matthias, this is not only home to the Eagle. Everything the Hebrews want to preserve from Rome is to be hidden here, including the scrolls of the most sacred of their writings, and they won’t leave such things alone.’

‘They’ll be guarded,’ I said. The thought of combat made my blood sing. I rolled my shoulders and checked the slide of my own knife from its sheath.

Pantera, watching, said, ‘If we have to fight, it may be that only one of us can get away, so you both need to know the way back to Vespasian from here.’

I barely glanced down at the route he had drawn on the rock. If ever a man knew his death-place, this was mine, and I was certain that if one of us had to stay and fight so the others could run, I was that man.

Then I looked at Horgias, and found the same truth written on his face. We made a silent vow, there and then, that we would stand together at the end, and let Pantera go back to Vespasian alone.

The salt-stiff air parted reluctantly before us as we eased down the path towards the foot of the cliff. Every dozen paces or so, we paused while Horgias bent and searched the bare rock for signs of men’s passing. If he found them, I never saw what they were, but he led us on with a steady confidence. He was less Roman now than he had ever been, and completely given to the legions.

Near the sea’s edge, the path turned hard right so that we were heading towards the cliff face. We followed, and there, where rock and mud and sand were one, I saw the first footprints, and heard Horgias’ grunt of triumph before he led us, loping onwards and upwards, along the path that led to the honeycombed cliff.

The cliff became more alive the closer we approached; what had seemed a flat, vertical face was hewn by wind and water to a wavering surface that put me in mind of a fine curtain’s billowing.

Shadows played along it, sent by the ever-rising sun, so that Pantera and I glanced up often, expecting a shout and the first hail of stones or spears. Horgias alone kept his eyes on the ground and would not be hurried lest we take the wrong track.

Presently, the path began to rise, so that we walked uphill ever more steeply, then scrambled up on broad rocky steps, like a giant staircase leading to the skies, and then, finally, took to the rock face where we must set hand and foot on the cliff, searching for handholds, footholds, for places to press tight to the rock with face turned sideways simply to breathe.

The climb was no more than thirty or forty feet, but it was long enough to bring me to the last hold with my hands slick with sweat.

‘Here.’ Horgias had been first up. He took my wrist and pulled me the last few feet on to a ledge a hand’s length wide and long enough to take all three of us. I turned carefully and crammed my shoulders to the living rock behind. Like that, I could see land and sky and a little of the sea and not know how high up we were. Beside me, Pantera was shivering, finely, like a leaf in a tight breeze.

He caught my eye, gave a wry smile. ‘We’ve done it. The sun can rise now and they won’t see us. All we need is for Horgias to find the way to the right cave.’

That was easy to say, less easy to do. We were in the midst of an embarrassment of caves; too many to count, but none within easy reach. Horgias was searching the rock like a blind man, running his fingers over it, pausing here and there to snatch back and examine what he had found.

I eyed the ledge left along its length, and saw where it tapered away to nothing, and where, fifty feet beyond it along the cliff face, was a cave that we might enter.

Above us was another, a mere twenty feet away, and another a little to our right and above, that might be reached in two strides by any man who had legs twelve feet long and arms to match.

And then, because I wasn’t thinking, I looked down.

I snatched at Pantera’s arm; he was closest. ‘
Below
. We’re not alone.’

Eight men walked where we had been. Eight young Hebrew zealots, each bearing a large pack on his shoulders, and one of them with showy bronze locks that glimmered in the pale morning light and labelled him Nicodemus as surely as a placard bearing his name.

He didn’t look up, none of them did, for they were deep in the shadowed part of the path where they had to watch their footing – but only for now.

‘We have to find the cave.’ Pantera breathed it, no more a sound than the rising of the moon. ‘Horgias? Which one?’

Horgias shook his head. ‘I don’t know. There are fragments of wool and linen on the route to each of the three closest. The Eagle could be in any one of them.’ He chewed his lip, looking up. ‘We could draw lots?’ he offered doubtfully.

I had a better answer. Even as he spoke, three white birds came from the south and rode the strong air that lifted over the deathly sea. I pointed, and we watched them turn west, back towards Jerusalem, and, ultimately, towards Rome.

‘Three,’ I said. ‘Sacred to the gods and pointing our way.
We
need to go in through the third cave, counting along from south to north.’ I pointed to the smallest of the three caves nearby; the one up and twelve feet to our right that a long-limbed man might reach.

Horgias squinted sideways at me. ‘You saw the birds first. Do you want to lead?’

I looked up at the rock and found that in the better light of dawn the shadows had grown smaller and deeper and the route across was suddenly obvious even to such as me who did not have the stature of a giant.

I eased past Horgias, and if I was not fearless as I stepped to the end of the ledge and reached for the first small pinch of rock to anchor me, I was at least lifted by the gods and their promise.

My foot slid out to a shelf no wider than my thumb and I felt the cold stone grow warm beneath me as it took my weight and held it so that I might bring my left hand to a slight crack and my left foot to a knuckle of rock and then I was crabbing sideways across the rock face with a fall of a hundred feet straight down if I let go.

Don’t look down
. My own voice in my head, the old memories hazy now. I did look down and saw the sun-washed sea and the men still making their way up the path, and prayed to the same god that had sent the white birds that Nicodemus and his zealots might not look up.

My hand reached the edge of the cave and found it not a flat ledge but a lip, like the edge of a beaker, that I could wrap my whole hand around and so haul myself up as on to the branch of a tree, then inside to the floor about a foot down.

The air moved past me fast enough to lift my hair, but it was too dark to see more than a yard or two of the interior. I found an iron ring embedded deep in the rock, but nothing else to show that the cave had ever been inhabited. No men
came
to assault me; no guards set about their sacred writings. I was relieved and disappointed all in one messy round.

Safe, I guided Pantera with silent signals until he, too, scrambled over the lip and went on past me to explore the dark interior, and then Horgias swarmed up smooth as a lizard and came to sit beside me inside the lip of the cave, far enough back to be lost in the dark should the zealots look up, and yet close enough to the front to watch them as they took the path below us, each one humped like a she-camel with a linen-bound pack.

‘Their packs look as if they weigh heavy,’ I said. ‘It won’t be easy climbing with those on.’ I tried to imagine making the last crab-crawl across the rock with a pack on my back the weight of a sheep and shuddered at the thought.

‘There are weapons on top,’ Pantera answered, from behind my right shoulder. ‘You can see the ridges of sword blades in their sheaths.’ He took a step back into the gloom. ‘This cave has two openings about twenty paces back that lead deeper into the mountain. There may be men through either of them, but the mouths of both are silent. If Nicodemus and his group come up to here, we can hide in one and hope they take the other.’

‘And if they don’t?’ Horgias asked.

Pantera’s grin was the only part of him we could see. ‘If they don’t, then we fight.’ He drew a broad-bladed knife from one forearm and held it up, mirror to our eyes. ‘If they bring a rope, try to tie it to the ring. It’ll make getting down a great deal easier afterwards.’

C
HAPTER
T
HIRTY-
N
INE

WE LAY ON
our bellies on the cold cave floor and listened to the Hebrews’ progress.

They climbed more slowly than we had done, pausing often for rest and water. When they reached the rock face, they dropped their packs, drew rope from each one and tied them together in pairs, attaching the long line to the waist of each second man.

On the rock itself, they followed the route we had done, so that the first one was at the lip of our cave as the sun touched it.

We had backed away before they began, and found the two openings Pantera had described. ‘No white birds here,’ he said softly. ‘Do we have any reason to choose one or the other?’

‘There’s more of a draught from the left hand one,’ I said. ‘If I were going somewhere, I’d choose that way. I say we hide in the one to the right.’ The others did as I bid; today, I was the god-marked wayfinder.

We lay together, shoulder to shoulder, that each might know where the others were. Dark held us like a blanket, still and dense and tight, warmer than the air outside, and it
brought
us the Hebrews’ voices long before they reached us.

Nicodemus of the bronzed hair was first into the cave. He stepped over the lip and sank down, speaking aloud prayers to his god. The rope tied to his waist sprang tight as he finished and he leaned back so that Manasseh, who was second, might climb up more easily after him. Between them, they hauled up all eight packs, and then the remaining six men swarmed up the ropes like rats on to a ship.

We could see them easily against the light of the cave mouth, and so we had warning when Nicodemus produced a flint and tinder from his pack and began to spark a light, buzzing all the while in his native Aramaic, which sounded to my ears ever more like a flight of bees trapped in a box.

I felt Pantera flinch beside me before the first strike took light. ‘They found our horses.’ His voice in my ear, soft as death. ‘Tell Horgias we have to move back.’

As snakes, we writhed backwards, soundless, or as near to it as living men can be. The tunnel curved along its length and there came a point when we could see the light of the spark and the shadows it cast, but only against one wall, and knew we were safe from the men in front. I was about to stand up when Horgias caught my arm and dragged me round. ‘Light!’ he hissed in my ear. ‘Men behind!’

I turned, and followed where he led, to another bend, and there was the shine of strong light from many torches, with shadows that barely flickered. And in those shadows were men seated and standing, men leaning on spears, or against the wall.

And something that was not a man, something that made my head spin and my heart burst wide in my chest.

‘
The Eagle!
’ I nearly said it aloud. Pantera reached past me to catch Horgias in the moment before he launched forward.

‘
Not yet!
’ The words were holes breathed into the silence. ‘They are too many. We have to hide.’

‘Where?’

‘Back.’ I tugged at them both. ‘There’s a draught behind us.’

And so we hid again, writhing backwards into a fissure barely wide enough to take a man, which grew progressively lower as we squeezed inside.

Without thought or comment, I went first because I had found it, Horgias next because Pantera was herding him away from the Eagle as a leopard herds a stag, and Pantera last, as the cork in our bottle, holding us in and the Hebrews out.

I crouched in the sweating dark, and peered past both of them as the growing lights from outside merged with those from ahead that had moved to meet them, and then grew dimmer as men set lamps and torches down on the cavern floor to greet each other.

In near dark, I listened to the shouted names, to the sounds of men embracing, to the murmurs of thanks given to their god, all the same as when the legions met.

They spoke briefly and with vehemence, and through the crook of Pantera’s elbow I saw Nicodemus spit to emphasize the end of one short, sharp comment. The men he had met looked around them, as if danger might come from the dark. I felt Pantera press himself ever backwards and dip his head, that the shine of his eyes might not betray us. I held my breath and felt my bladder clench and renewed my grip on my knife and tried to move my arm from where it was trapped against the rock, and failed.

From some distance, someone called Nicodemus’ name. The word ricocheted around the caves and came to rest in a dozen places. There was a shout of laughter, and some animated chatter and the whole small mob moved back away from us into the cave where the Eagle was kept, leaving us in almost-darkness and almost-silence.

A long time later, Pantera eased his way forward. Horgias
and
I followed, easing the cramp out of our knees, our elbows, our necks. At length, we stood in the cave and watched the shadows and barely dared to move.

‘How many?’ Horgias asked.

‘Sixteen.’ Pantera shook his head. ‘Too many for us to take.’

‘But we don’t need to take them,’ I said. ‘We only need to take the Eagle.’

In the near-dark, I saw Horgias smile.

We drew lots. We argued over the result – silently, in mime, with grimaces for words. We drew lots a second time with different results and did not accept them this time either. We stood in the dark and not one of us wanted to leave the other two and be the hare that drew the Hebrew hounds from their lair.

In the end, in the compressed whisper that was all we dared manage, Horgias said, ‘Demalion and I are of the Twelfth. The Eagle was ours to lose and ours to take back. You can make convincing noise for three of us and have a chance to get away. If we don’t come out, you can tell Vespasian that the Twelfth is dead, and it will be true.’

Pantera closed his eyes. When he opened them, he was a changed man, shorn of the irony he held about him like a shield. He nodded to us both and it was as heavy as a salute. ‘If you don’t come out,’ he said, ‘make sure you’re dead. Eleazir can keep a man alive longer and in greater pain than either of you wants to think about.’