‘Yes. The time was right for him to go, perhaps. He was always an admirer of Constantine, you know. A “good lad”, he would say. He enjoyed reports of the preparations for a campaign against Persia. The dream of Alexander revived again, Tarcho said! I think it pleased Tarcho, in a way, to die in the same year as such a man.’ He prompted gently, ‘But Tarcho gone, and Constantine too - what next, do you think, Audax?’

‘Things may be a little difficult,’ Audax said with grim understatement. ‘The campaign against Persia was controversial even in the Emperor’s court. The east has always defeated the Romans if they push too far. And then there is the succession. Constantine’s three sons have spent their youth fighting like puppies in a sack. I fear blood will be spilled before one of them emerges as top dog.’

Thalius sighed. ‘And more strength bled from the body of the empire, while our enemies watch and wait. Audax, you must be careful.’

‘I will be,’ Audax said. ‘I’m thinking of a change of posting, away from the court.’

‘Then you’re wise. You know, sometimes I am glad I am no longer young - sometimes it seems a comfort I won’t see much more of the drama. But perhaps every old man thinks the world is decaying as fast as his body.’

‘You mustn’t think like that.’

‘One must be realistic,’ Thalius admonished him. ‘But, Audax ...’ He asked cautiously, ‘What of the Prophecy?’

Audax’s face hardened. ‘I suppose I have to thank it for saving my life. I’d have surely died in that hole in the ground if you hadn’t come to find me, and it. But when I joined the army I had the tattoo burned off my back.’

Thalius winced. ‘But the scarring—’

‘I’d rather wear that than the hateful thing which preceded it. Thalius, do you still believe the true purpose of the Prophecy was to change the destiny of the Church?’

That took Thalius aback. He had spoken with nobody about such matters since the day of the attempted assassination. ‘So you have been thinking this through.’

‘Look, I’m no philosopher,’ Audax said. ‘But I had that thing tattooed to my back since birth, and, on long campaigns, there was plenty of time to puzzle about its meaning. The way I see it is this: the Prophecy was a message, and somebody sent it. Now, whether it was God or demon, or even a wizard—’

‘The Weaver,’ Thalius said softly. ‘And if Constantine had been killed, Christianity might not have been incorporated into the empire, and the capital might not have been moved east. History would have been changed - the history of the whole world, for all time.’