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

The fort was little more than a fortified signal station and a thin trail of smoke wafted from the brazier in the main tower that was kept alight at all times. It was defended by a half-century of Thracian auxiliaries under an ageing optio who greeted them warmly as the column rode in through the gateway.
    ‘Glad to see some new faces, sir.’ He smiled as Macro dismounted and returned the optio’s salute. ‘Haven’t seen any Romans for over a month now.’
    Macro yawned and stretched his back before giving his buttocks a firm rub to restore some of the circulation lost after a day in the saddle. He ached, stank of sweat and was covered in dust.
    ‘I need a bath. I don’t suppose there’s a bath-house here.’
    ‘No, sir.’
    ‘What about back there, in Qumran?’
    ‘There is, sir. But we’re not allowed to use their baths.’
    ‘Why’s that?’ Macro said irritably. ‘I’ll pay ‘em good money.’
    ‘They’re Essenes, sir. Friendly enough but they won’t share any food or facilities with us, in case we contaminate them.’
    ‘What is wrong with this fucking land?’ Macro exploded.’Has the sun boiled everyone’s brains? What are Essenes? Not another bloody sect, surely.’
    ‘Sorry, sir.’ The optio shrugged. ‘That’s how it is. My men are under strict orders not to cause the Essenes any offence.’
    ‘Oh, very well then. Just find quarters for our men and then feed ‘em. I’m going for a swim.’
    ‘A swim, sir?’
    ‘Yes. In the sea.’
    Macro noticed the surprised look on the optio’s face and continued irritably, ‘Don’t tell me our Essene friends are going to take exception to sharing a whole bloody sea with me?’
    ‘No, sir. It’s not that, it’s just-‘
    Macro cut him off.’See to the men and their mounts.’ He turned to Cato. ‘Coming?’
    ‘Oh yes.’ Cato smiled. ‘I wouldn’t miss this experience.’
    From the corner of his eye Macro saw Cato exchange a knowing look with Symeon and turned on them suddenly. ‘What?’
    Cato feigned innocence. ‘It’s nothing. Let’s go and swim.’
    The two officers stripped down to their tunics and boots and descended the stony slope to the shore. They picked their way a short distance along until they found a stretch of pebbled beach and undressed, leaving their clothes, belts and daggers on top of a rock. Macro trod warily down to the edge of the water and began to wade out, under the amused gaze of his young friend.When he was up to his waist Macro raised a hand and rubbed his fingers together.
    ‘Odd . . . Feels kind of oily.’ He raised his fingers and sniffed them for a moment before dabbing them with his tongue. At once his face tightened into a grimace. ‘Ugh!’
    ‘What is it?’
    ‘The water. It tastes awful. Far too salty.’
    ‘Then don’t drink it,’ said Cato. ‘Just swim in it.’
    ‘For someone who is such a poor swimmer, you’re awfully keen to get stuck in.’
    Cato laughed. ‘You’ll understand in a moment.’
    Macro was too weary to continue playing Cato’s games and turned away. Stretching his arms out he thrust himself forward into the gently lapping sea. Instead of plunging down beneath the surface he bobbed up like a cork. As soon as he tried the first stroke his legs seemed to come up out of the water behind him.
    ‘What the hell is going on?’
    Cato laughed as he waded out towards his friend, and was treading water even before the sea came close to his shoulders. It was a strange sensation and he smiled in delight. Macro was still floundering, trying to swim a few strokes further out from the shore.
    ‘This is ridiculous.’ He gave up and turned on to his back. Floating effortlessly, he looked at Cato. ‘I suppose this is why it’s some kind of natural bloody marvel.’
    Cato settled into the water and raised his legs. ‘Strange, isn’t it?’
    Now that he had got over his surprise Macro found that the experience was quite agreeable after all and for a while he experimented with