'This wouldn't be necessary if you had been a good boy and kept your mouth shut.'

Atticus sneered. 'That's what all tyrants say.'

'Tyrant?' Macro pursed his lips.' Me? No, I'm just a soldier trying to do his job, and you, mate, are a loudmouth pain in the arse. So spare me any comments about freedom and tyranny. You can save it for when this is all over.'

Atticus glared at him. You have me now, Centurion, but there will be a reckoning one day.'

'Sure.' Macro nodded. 'I'll make a note of it.'

'I'll have you!' Atticus spat. 'You pig!'

Macro suddenly lashed out with a clenched fist, striking Atticus squarely on the temple. With a grunt, he collapsed into the grip of the soldiers on either side. Macro shrugged. 'So much for tyranny. Get him to the cistern, and make sure no harm comes to him on the way. He can stay there for a couple of days to cool off before we let him go.'

The small column of soldiers picked their way along the main street and back to the acropolis. Macro saw that Julia was standing by the gate as they marched up the ramp. He had sent some men into the town to find some clothes for her amongst the ruins and she was wearing a pale blue tunic that reached down to her ankles. Macro bowed his head in greeting.

'Morning, miss. Had a good night's sleep?'

Yes thank you.' She smiled briefly. 'Is there any word from Gortyna?'

'Not yet. I sent a message yesterday. We should get a reply by nightfall. Should put your mind at rest.'

'I hope so.' Julia pulled at a strand of her dark hair. 'It's hard not to worry about my father and Cato. I'm sure that Cato would have sent word as soon as he could to say that they were safe.'

'If the situation here is anything to go by then I expect they're up to their necks in it over at Gortyna. But I'm sure they'll send news the first moment that they can. Don't fret, Miss Julia. Your dad's a tough one, and Cato's as smart as new paint. They'll be fine, trust me.'

Julia nodded a little uncertainly and was silent for a moment before she continued.' How long do you think we'll be here?'

Macro stepped aside from the column of soldiers and undid the strap of his helmet before removing it and wiping his brow. 'Difficult to say. There's plenty of shipping that puts into Crete, so word of what has happened here will reach Rome soon enough.'

'I haven't noticed any new ships in the port since we arrived.'

'True,' Macro conceded. 'That wave must have had a wide effect.

It's possible that it did for the ships close to the island. Perhaps there will be others who have heard the news and are wary of landing in Crete. But some one will put into one of the island's ports sooner or later. They'll get the story, and carry it onwards to Rome. Once the emperor grasps the scale of the damage that's been done here, then he'll be sure to send help.'

'Help? What kind of help?'

'Troops, food, and a replacement governor as soon as he appoints one. When they arrive, then your father and the rest of us can leave, and take the first ship back to Rome.'

'And how long will it be before help arrives?'

Macro frowned as he made a rough estimate of the distances involved. 'Realistically, I'd say it'd be two months before the first ship comes from Rome.'

'Two months? Two months!' Julia gestured towards the tents.

'With the amount of food we have, those people aren't going to last two months. There has to be some quicker way to get help. What about the closest provinces? Egypt, Cyprus or Greece?'

'They will do what they can. But the trouble is, I imagine they'll be wary of doing anything without requesting permission from Rome.'

Julia shook her head. 'That's madness.'

'That's bureaucracy, miss.'

'But we have to help these people.'

'We are helping them. What they need is order, and that's what I am giving them. Once that is established then I can deal with the food and make sure that everyone is fed as well as our stocks allow.

It's going to be tough, on all of us. Mollycoddling a civilian mob is not the kind of situation I'm used to handling, to be honest, miss.'

'So I can see,'Julia responded in an acerbic tone as she nodded towards the column escorting Atticus. 'That was very well handled.

I'm sure that little incident has helped to win the people round.'

'Now that is out of order.' Macro frowned. 'I'm not standing for election, miss. I just want to do the best for those who have survived.

I want to give them a decent chance to live through this and get back to some kind of normal existence. If that means I have to use methods that don't go down well with the mob, and troublemakers like Atticus there, then that's just tough.'

'On you? Or them?'

'On all of us.' Macro repositioned his felt skullcap and put his helmet back on. 'If that's all, miss, I have work to do.'

He strode off after his men, still fastening his helmet straps. Julia watched him for a moment, knowing full well that she was in the wrong. She had been acquainted with Macro long enough to know that however direct and harsh his methods might seem, his purpose was always well-meaning and fair. By the time she had decided to make her apology, Macro had already entered the headquarters building and disappeared from sight.

Julia slapped her hand against her thigh, furious with herself, and then turned away from the acropolis and gazed out across the tented slope. The crowd that had gathered to hear Macro's announcement was slow in dispersing, and little knots of people still clung together, no doubt voicing their anger. Macro had authority over them for the moment, she reflected, but when the food began to run out, hunger and despair would tear apart the present fragile order. She shuddered at the prospect, and then slowly made her way back through the gate into the acropolis. There was nothing for her to do. She had volunteered her services to help the cohort's surgeon tend the wounded, but he had rebuffed her curtly, saying that the hospital was no place for a senator's daughter. When she had tried to argue the case, pointing out that she had performed such duties during the siege at Palmyra, the surgeon had bitterly remarked that the people of the east were barbarians. Different standards applied in Crete.

Much as Julia hoped the surgeon was right, she had seen enough of the world to know that any civilisation was only ever a few meals away from anarchy and the bloody chaos that would inevitably follow. The thought immediately made her long to be reunited with her father and Cato. She felt a pang of longing for Cato and wished he was with her, making her feel safe.

'I hope you haven't called me here to waste my time,' said Macro as he placed the torch in an iron bracket and sat down on the bottom step of the cistern to look at Atticus. The Greek was chained by the ankle to the rock wall. His white tunic was streaked with filth. He had been in the prison for only one night, and the dark, the damp stench and the isolation had acted on him with impressive speed.

'You told the sentry it was important.'

'It is. I want to offer you a deal.'

'Really?'

Macro smiled thinly. 'What kind of a deal? Are you going to promise to be a good boy if I let you go?'

'Yes. I'll behave.'

'I see, and why should I trust you to behave? You see, I have no more faith in your word than you have in mine.'

Atticus licked his lips nervously. 'I know where to find food.'

'So do I; we keep digging in the ruins.'

'I mean, I know where we can find a lot of food. Enough to feed the people for many days.'

'Oh. And where would this food be?'

'The farming estate of a friend of mine.'

'Where?'

'On the coast, not far from here. The estate belongs to Demetrius of Ithaca.'

'We've already tried there. I sent a patrol yesterday. They came back empty-handed. It seems the slaves, or their brigand friends, had got there ahead of us and emptied the grain pits.'