Read Online Cato 06 - The Eagles Prophecy by Simon Scarrow - Free Book Online

d’you mean I’ve lost it?’ Macro responded angrily. ‘It was our money. Our bet. You’d have had fair shares if we’d won.’
    ‘But we didn’t.’
    ‘I know!’ Macro smacked his fist against his chest. ‘I was bloody well there when that twat Nepos drove his fucking chariot straight into the wall. Only a hundred feet short of the line. The Praetorians were pissing themselves laughing . . .’
    ‘And?’
    ‘Well,’ Macro lowered his eyes, ‘that’s when I hit one of them.’
    ‘You hit one of them?’
    ‘Two, actually. Perhaps a few more as well. Can’t quite remember. One of them didn’t get up.’
    ‘I see.’ Cato spoke through clenched teeth. ‘So not only did you lose our money, you’ve managed to get the Praetorian Guards on our backs. And now, thanks to your little rumpus in the tavern, the urban cohort are after us as well.’ Cato rubbed his forehead to ease the torrent of tormenting thoughts cascading through his mind. ‘On top of that, Narcissus knows we’re in Rome.’
    Macro looked up. ‘Oh?’
    ‘He saw me. Back at the Great Circus.’
    ‘You’re sure?’
    ‘Of course I’m bloody sure. He looked right at me. He even waved. Before he sent some men after me. Why did you think I had to get out so fast?’
    Macro shrugged.’I had wondered about that. So what do we do now?’
    ‘That’s the question. Trouble is, there’s no answer. We can’t run for it. They’re bound to have men watching for us at the city gates. We can’t lie low in Rome, not without money.’
    Both men were silent for a moment, before Macro reached a hand up to his face and winced as it came in contact with a huge bruise on his cheek. ‘Ouch! That smarts!’
    Cato glared at him. ‘Well, you deserve it.’
    ‘Thanks for your sympathy . . .’ Macro looked up at his friend. ‘We need to get off the streets.’
    That night Cato lay on his side and stared at the wall, close enough to see his breath glistening on the cracked plaster, thanks to a shaft of moonlight probing through the broken shutter. He was more tired than he had been for months, yet his mind would not stop running over the day’s events. The uncertainty over his future that had plagued him since returning to Rome now seemed quite trivial compared to the despair he felt at his present situation. Only a miracle could save him now. Tormented by such thoughts he lay still and stared at the wall for what felt like hours. Macro, as usual, had fallen into a deep sleep almost as soon as he had laid his head down on his mattress, and his snoring threatened to shake the tenement block down. For a while Cato entertained the notion of crossing the room and rolling Macro over on to his side, but that would mean leaving the snug warmth he had managed to build up under his tunic, army cloak and blanket. So he suffered the din, grew accustomed to it, and eventually drifted off to sleep.
    A shattering crash snapped him into wakefulness. It was just after dawn, and the room was readily visible in the thin grey light. Cato sat up, turning towards the doorway just as the old iron latch sprang from its fixings and the weathered timbers of the door flew inwards and cracked sharply against the wall, dislodging a shower of loose plaster.
    ‘What the hell . . .?’ Macro raised his head just as four heavily armoured soldiers burst into the room with swords drawn.
    ‘Stay where you are!’ one of the men shouted, raising his blade just enough to make the threat unmistakable. Cato and Macro froze, and the man lowered his sword as he addressed them in a more official tone.
    ‘Centurions Macro and Cato?’
    Cato nodded.
    ‘Narcissus wants to see you.’

CHAPTER SIX
    ‘Bollocks!’ Macro shouted, and shot out an arm to where his sword lay against the wall. The Praetorian reacted at once and stamped his boot down on Macro’s wrist. Macro gasped as the iron studs stabbed into his flesh, but before he could say another word he felt the point of a sword at his