Cato could understand his reaction, but there was nothing that could be done to end the slaughter. The Romans were outnumbered. If they paused in their deadly work, they would lose the initiative, and with it the battle. They had no choice but to keep on killing. Cato shook his head. 'This is war, Tribune. This is the face of battle, and you had best grow used to it.'

Some of the Nubians tried to surrender, throwing down their weapons and holding out their empty hands as they pleaded for their lives in their tongue. To no avail. They died alongside their comrades who fought on, hampered by the stifling press of men, which made it impossible for them to wield their weapons effectively.

For more than an hour it continued as the Roman cordon closed round those still trapped, Prince Talmis amongst them. The auxiliary cavalry had blocked their retreat and speared those who tried to get past them. Occasionally small groups of fugitives did manage to thrust past the horsemen, but the survivors were allowed to escape and the landscape to the south was dotted with figures running for their lives. As midday approached, the killing began to slacken as the Romans became too weary to continue the slaughter. Some of the Nubians took advantage of this and slipped between men who made no effort to stop them. Cato rode forward and his horse had to pick its way carefully over the bodies as it crossed the killing ground.

'Stand to! Centurions, call your men to their standards!'

He saw Macro, spattered and smeared with crimson, leaning on his shield, chest heaving as he gasped for breath. 'Centurion! Let the enemy pass. All except the Prince and his bodyguard. And the gladiators. They mustn't escape. Understand?'

Macro nodded, blinking away the sweat that dripped from his eyebrows. He pulled himself up and lifted his shield as he turned to address his men. 'Form ranks!'

The men of the First Cohort wearily trudged back to their standards and waited for orders. Cato felt a bitter weight in his heart as he saw that less than half of the men remained. The reserve cohort that had rushed to fill the gap had suffered a similar proportion of casualties. Macro waited until the last of his men was in position and then ordered them to advance on the standard of Prince Talmis. Cato's horse shied at the mounds of bodies that lay in his path and he dismounted and made his way to Macro's side.

'Well, the plan worked.' Macro smiled wearily. 'Never thought I'd see the day when I'd be grateful to Hannibal.'

'It's not quite over yet.' Cato nodded towards the knot of bodyguards gathered around the Prince's standard.

Macro shrugged. 'They're finished, one way or another. Surrender or die, Talmis is ours.'

The Romans opened their ranks to let the last of the lightly armed Nubians and Arabs flee, and then closed in around the bodyguards. They were big men, with scale armour and conical helmets. They carried oval shields and heavy spears and stood shoulder to shoulder as the Romans advanced on them.

Cato raised his arm as they came within twenty paces of the standard. 'Halt!'

His men shuffled to a stop, watching the enemy warily. Cato stepped forward and cleared his throat. 'Does Prince Talmis still live?'

'He does.' An imposing figure edged his way into the front line of the bodyguards. Talmis wore a black cuirass over black robes and his helmet and shoulders were covered with the hide of lion. His expression was cold and bitter as he stared out over the bodies heaped across the battlefield. The Prince's eyes fixed on Cato. 'What do you want with me, Legate? My surrender?'

'Yes.'

'So that I can be displayed in Rome, no doubt, as a prize of your Emperor.'

'That is for the Emperor to decide,' Cato responded. 'My offer to you is simple. You and your men surrender, or I will be forced to have you cut down where you stand.'

'I don't think I will surrender,' Talmis said slowly, and his dark lips twisted into a calculating smile. 'You will let me return to Nubia freely, Legate.'

Cato's brow furrowed. 'And why would I do that?'

'Because I have what you want. I have Ajax. I'll give you to him, in exchange for free passage back across the frontier to Nubia.'

Cato felt his heart quicken. 'Ajax is here? With you?'

'No. I have been keeping him safe while I decided what to do with a man who had failed to serve me well. His life for mine. That is the offer.'

Cato turned to Macro and for a moment there was a tense silence as their eyes met. Macro swallowed but managed to contain any display of feeling that might influence his friend's decision. There would be no question of avoiding the anger of the imperial palace if the Prince was allowed to walk free. And yet the Nubians had been crushed. It would be many years before they dared to defy Rome again. Ajax, on the other hand, would present a far more immediate threat to the Empire if he were allowed to escape from Egypt. He had already stirred up one rebellion that had nearly brought Rome to its knees. Who knew what else the gladiator was capable of? Besides, Ajax was the reason why they were here in the province in the first place. It was the search for Ajax that had consumed their lives for months now. There was an unanswerable need to finish the business that had tormented them both since the rebellion on Crete. Cato turned back to the Nubian Prince.

'Well?' Talmis raised his chin. 'What is your decision?'

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

It was late in that afternoon when Prince Talmis reined in at the head of the small column of riders, trotting down the bank of the Nile. Both he and his bodyguards had been disarmed and were escorted by Cato, Macro, Tribune Junius and a squadron of auxiliary cavalry. Talmis pointed across the river to a small island, two hundred paces across the river. Like most of the islands Cato had seen, it was low and fringed with reeds. However, at the upriver end there was a sizeable slab of rock upon which a shrine had been built, five columns by four. Clumps of date palms grew around the base of the rock and a small landing stage lay a short distance further along the island, beyond which there were only reeds. A skiff was moored to the landing stage, and a single figure could be seen at the entrance to the shrine, watching them.

'I have them under guard there, in the shrine,' said Talmis.

'Them?' Macro raised an eyebrow. 'How many men has Ajax left?'

'There is Ajax and one other, a man called Karim. The others I had put to death when the gladiator returned to my camp with his story of failure. I was saving him for later – that is, if I could not get a good price for him from your Emperor.'

'I'm glad I'm not your ally,' Macro commented.

'Ajax was not an ally. He offered to serve me. He was supposed to distract you and not give battle. But he wanted nothing more than to kill Romans, no matter what the cost to those he led.' Prince Talmis turned to look at Macro and Cato. 'I am impressed that a man can hate you two as much as Ajax does.'

Macro pursed his lips. 'It cuts both ways, Nubian. We have our own reasons for returning his feeling in kind.'

'Truly?' Talmis swatted an insect away from his cheek. He gestured to Macro to continue.

'That's enough,' Cato interrupted. 'It'll be dark soon. I want to deal with Ajax before the day is out.' He turned to the Prince. 'How many of your men are there on the island?'

'Six of my best men. I will send their captain to them to explain the situation and recall the guards. Then the gladiator and his friend are yours. And you will free me and my men.'

'Only when I have Ajax,' Cato said firmly. 'Have your men bring the boat over. I'll go across with your captain and some of my troops to take charge of the captives. Your men can return first, then you are free to go.'