‘Indeed,’ Pallas agreed. ‘Your speech was so good that one grieves over its brevity.’

Narcissus glanced daggers at the other freedman and then smiled brilliantly at the Emperor. ‘Ah, yes! But brevity is an art that few in history have mastered as well as you, sire.’

‘Yes, quite.’ Claudius nodded vigorously. ‘And when w-word of the games reaches the vulgar mo-mo-mob they’ll forget that they were ever h-h-hungry. Speaking of which, it’s time to return to the palace. I need to eat. I have a craving for mush-mushrooms.’

With a last gracious wave to his audience Claudius left the dais and limped down from the stage back to his litter. Pallas followed quickly, trying to steal a lead on his rival. Narcissus let him go and then, as he passed by Cato and Macro, he seemed to catch his boot and trip over his toga. His arms flailed as he fell against Cato. Cato felt the imperial secretary’s hand thrust something into the palm of his shield hand.

‘Are you all right, sir?’ Cato asked, as he helped Narcissus back on to his feet.

‘I’m fine,’ Narcissus snapped. ‘Unhand me, soldier.’ He shook off Cato’s grip and hurried to catch up with Pallas.

‘Charming man, that,’ said Macro.

‘He’s a freedman,’ Fuscius hissed. ‘Shouldn’t be allowed to treat a Praetorian that way. It ain’t right.’

As the Emperor climbed into his litter, those summoned to hear his brief announcement began to shuffle back towards their own litters and horses, anxious to get back on the road to Rome before the route became clogged with traffic. Centurion Lurco cupped a hand to his mouth and bellowed the order to his men. ‘Sixth Century! Fall in behind the imperial litter!’

‘You heard him!’ Tigellinus shouted. ‘Move yourselves!’

The Praetorians began to hurry over to form up behind the German bodyguards surrounding the litter. Cato hung back and when he was sure that he would not be observed, he opened his hand and saw a small, neatly folded sheet of papyrus. He thumbed it open and saw a few words written in fine print. He crumpled it up and closed his fist before he took up his station beside Macro near the front of the column and muttered to his friend, ‘Narcissus wants to meet us in the safe house as soon as we return to Rome.’

The imperial secretary looked up anxiously as Septimus opened the door to Cato and Macro late in the afternoon. The shutters were open and pale shafts of light illuminated the room. Narcissus was leaning against the wall, his arms crossed. He waited until the door was shut before he spoke.

‘You’ve taken your time.’

‘We came as soon as we could,’ Cato replied.

‘Are you sure that no one saw you come here?’ Narcissus asked earnestly.

Cato nodded. ‘Tigellinus was called to headquarters to get tonight’s watchword. We left before he got back to barracks.’