Ciro shook his head sharply. ‘The line is endless. Better just to move away from them.’
‘Right, you heard him,’ Julius said. ‘Pack up and get ready to move a mile down the coast. Suetonius, I want you clothed and ready to go. You and Pelitas can work the jaws out of your skin when we’re settled again.’
‘It’s agony,’ Suetonius whimpered.
Ciro looked at him and Julius felt a pang of shame and irritation that the young officer was showing such a poor face to the recruits.
‘Move, or I’ll tie you down over the ants myself,’ he said.
The threat seemed to have an effect and before the moon moved far in the sky, a new camp was set up with Ciro and two others finishing their watch. They would all be tired from lack of sleep in the morning after the excitement.
Julius’ head throbbed slowly, seeming to match the rhythms of the droning insects all around them. Every time he drifted into sleep, he’d feel the sting of an insect settling onto his exposed skin. They left smears of his own blood as he caught and cracked them, but there were always more waiting for him to lie still. He made a pillow of his kit and used a rag to cover his face, longing for the distant skies of Rome. He could see Cornelia in his mind and he smiled. Exhaustion hit him moments later.
With itching red swellings on their skin and shadows under their eyes, they reached the next settlement before noon, less than a mile from the coast. Julius led the men into the square, taking in the sights and smells of a touch of civilisation. He was struck again by the absence of fortifications of any kind. The old soldiers who had taken their lands on this coast must have little fear of attack, he thought. The farms were small, but there must be trade between these isolated places and native villages further into the interior. He saw a number of black faces among the Romans who gathered to see his men. He wondered how long it would take for the Roman blood to mingle and be lost, so that distant generations would know nothing at all of their ancient fathers and their lives. The land would return to whatever state it had been in before they came and even the stories around campfires would falter and be forgotten. He wondered if they remembered the empire of Carthage here, when thousands of ships had explored the world from ports along this very coastline. It was a chilling thought and he put it aside for later reflection, knowing he had to focus his mind if he was to come away from this place with more of what he needed.
As they had been told to do, his men stood to attention in the double line, their expressions serious. With Julius’ sword, only eight more of the men were armed and only three had proper armour. Spots of blood marked Suetonius’ tunic and his fingers twitched to scratch the scabs the ants had left all over him. Most of the Accipiter officers were raw from the sun and insects and only the new recruits seemed unaffected.
Julius guessed they looked more like a troop of bandits or pirates than Roman legionaries, and saw more than a few of the people arm themselves surreptitiously, nervousness showing in all of them. A butcher paused in the process of cutting up what looked like a cousin of the young pig they had eaten the previous evening. He came out from behind his table with the cleaver resting on his arm, ready for a sudden attack. Julius let his gaze drift over the crowd, looking for whoever had the command. There was always someone, even in the wilderness.
After a tense wait, five men approached from the far end of the houses. Four were armed, three of them with long-handled wood axes and the last carrying a gladius that had snapped in some old battle, leaving him with little better than a heavy dagger.
The fifth man walked confidently to the newcomers. He had iron-grey hair and was as thin as a stick. Julius guessed he was pushing sixty, but he had the upright bearing of an old soldier and when he spoke, it was in the fluent Latin of the city.
‘My name is Parrakis. This is a peaceful village. What do you want here?’ he asked.
He addressed his question to Julius and seemed unafraid. In that moment, Julius changed his plan of browbeating the leader as he had the first. The village may have dealings with the pirates, but there was little evidence that they had profited from it. The houses and people were clean but unadorned.
‘We are soldiers of Rome, lately of the galley Accipiter. We were ransomed by a pirate named Celsus. We mean to gather a crew and find him. This is a Roman settlement. I expect your aid.’
Parrakis raised his eyebrows.
‘I am sorry, there is nothing here for you. I haven’t seen Italy for twenty years or more. There is no debt to be paid by the families here. If you have silver, you may buy food, but then you must go.’
Julius stepped a little closer, noting the way Parrakis’ companions tensed while ignoring them conspicuously.
‘These lands were given to legionaries, not to pirates. This coast is infested with them and you have a duty to help us.’
Parrakis laughed.
‘Duty? I left all that behind a lifetime ago. I tell you again, Rome has no call on us here. We live and trade in peace, and if pirates come we sell our goods to them and they leave. I think you are looking for an army? You won’t find it in this village. There’s nothing of the city here, amongst farmers.’
‘Not all the men with me are from the ship. Some are from villages to the west. I need men who can be trained to fight. Men who are not willing to spend their lives hiding in this village as you do.’
Parrakis flushed with anger.
‘Hiding? We work the land and struggle against pests and disease just to feed our families. The first ones came from legions that fought with honour in lands far from home and finally received the last gift of the Senate – peace. And you dare to say we are hiding? If I was younger I would take a sword to you myself, you insolent whoreson!’
Julius wished he had just grabbed the man at the start. He opened his mouth to speak quickly, knowing he was losing the initiative. One of the men with axes broke in first.
‘I’d like to go with them.’
The older man whirled on him, spittle collecting whitely at the corners of his mouth.
‘To go and get yourself killed? What are you thinking?’
The axe carrier pursed his lips against the anger coming from Parrakis.
‘You always said they were the best years of your life,’ he muttered. ‘When the old men get drunk, you always talk about those days like they were gold. All I have is the chance to break my back from dawn to dusk. What will I tell people when I am old and drunk? How good it was to slaughter a pig at festival? The time I broke a tooth on a piece of grit in the bread we make?’
Before the stupefied Parrakis could reply, Julius broke in. ‘All I ask is that you put it to the people of the village. I’d prefer volunteers, if there are more like this one.’
The anger sagged from Parrakis, making him look exhausted.
‘Young men,’ he said with a note of resignation. ‘Always looking for excitement. I suppose I was the same, once.’ He turned to the axe carrier. ‘Are you sure, lad?’
‘You’ve got Deni and Cam to work the farm, you don’t need me as well. I want to see Rome,’ the young man replied.
‘All right, son, but what I said was
