The Eagle In The Sand by Simon Scarrow Read Free Book Online

look to the needs of the poor, before she adds the spoils of Judaea to her coffers.’
    ‘The Empire’s not a bloody charity.’ Macro sniffed. ‘It has an army to run, borders to maintain, roads to build, aqueducts, and . . . well, other things. Doesn’t come cheap. Someone has to pay. And without us, who would protect these people, eh? Answer me that.’
    ‘Protect these people?’ Symeon smiled thinly. ‘Who from? They would scarcely be any worse off under the heel of another empire.’
    ‘I was referring to people like Bannus and his brigands. Rome will protect them from Bannus.’
    ‘The people don’t see him that way. Many are inclined to see Bannus as some kind of hero. You won’t defeat Bannus unless Rome governs Judaea with a lighter hand, or garrisons these lands from top to bottom. I don’t see that happening in my lifetime.’
    ‘So what would you do then, Symeon? How would you improve the lot of these Judaeans?’
    ‘Me?’ The guide paused for a moment before he answered. ‘I would rid them of their burden of Roman tax for a start.’
    ‘Then there’d be no point in having Judaea as a province. Is that what you want for your people?’
    ‘My people?’ Symeon shrugged. ‘They’re not really my people any more.’
    ‘Aren’t you a Judaean?’
    ‘I am. But I am no longer so sure that I share their beliefs. I have not been living in the province for many years.’
    ‘So how did you end up as a guide?’
    ‘I had to leave Judaea in a hurry over ten years ago.’ Symeon glanced at Macro. ‘Before you ask, I had my reasons, and I won’t go into them.’
    ‘Fair enough.’
    ‘Anyway, I went south, to Nabataea, where no one would come looking for me. I joined one of the companies of men who guard the caravans. That’s how I learned to use weapons properly. I’ll never forget my first caravan. Twenty days across deserts and through mountains. I’d never seen lands like it before.Truly, Centurion, there are certain places in this world where the hand of God can be seen.’
    ‘I think I’ve seen enough already,’ Macro grumbled. ‘Give me Campania or Umbria any day. Sod all this desert and rock.’
    ‘It’s not always like this, Centurion. In spring, it’s cool and there’s rain and the hills are covered with flowers. Even the desert across the Jordan blooms. And there’s a kind of majesty in the desert. To the south there’s a wadi where the sand is bright red and great cliffs of coloured rock rise up to the skies. At night the heavens are filled with stars and travellers gather round fires and tell tales that echo back off the cliffs.’ He paused and smiled self-consciously. ‘Perhaps one day you’ll see for yourself, and understand.’
    He clicked his tongue and urged his horse forward, until he was a short distance ahead of the column. Macro stared at him for a moment and spoke quietly to Cato. ‘Well, what do you make of him?’
    ‘I’m not sure. If he knows the area as well as he says, then I can see why Florianus uses him. But there’s something about him that doesn’t seem right.’
    ‘What is it?’
    Cato shook his head. ‘I’m not quite sure. I just can’t believe a man turns his back on his family and friends for such a long time so easily. He’s interesting.’
    ‘Interesting?’ Macro shook his head. ‘Mad more like. Maybe he’s just had a little too much of the desert sun.’
    The column of horsemen reached the small Essene community of Qumran as the sun dipped down behind them, casting long distorted shadows before the riders. Qumran was a small settlement made up of simple houses that lined dusty narrow streets. The people warily acknowledged the greetings offered to them by Symeon as he led the column through the village towards the small fort built on a slight rise a mile beyond Qumran. Beyond the fort lay the Dead Sea, stretching out towards the mountains that rose up, fiery coloured and forbidding, in the red glow of the sun settling in the west.