‘No doubt some of you are still wondering what’s become of Lurco. As far as you’re concerned he’s dead. As far as he’s concerned he might as well be, once Tribune Burrus gets his hands on him.’ Tigellinus paused while some of the men chuckled. Then he drew a deep breath and continued, ‘I’m your centurion now. I set the standard and I will command the best century in the entire Praetorian Guard. That means I will be hard on you. I will have discipline. I will have smartly turned-out soldiers and I will have heroes, if the need arises. Any man who falls short of my requirements had better be ready to transfer out of the Guard to some lesser formation. If such a man chooses to stay then I will break him. Is that clear?’

‘Yes, sir!’ the men responded unevenly.

‘I didn’t bloody hear you!’ Tigellinus bellowed. ‘You sound like a bloody rabble! I said, is that clear?’

‘Yes, sir!’ the soldiers shouted in one voice that echoed back off the wall of the opposite barrack block.

‘That’s better.’ Tigellinus nodded. ‘You’ve already proved to the Emperor that you are good in a fight. He has honoured us by making this unit his personal escort. I mean to keep that honour for the foreseeable future, gentlemen. Whenever the Emperor leaves the palace I want my men to be guarding him. I want us to remain his first and last line of defence. We will be the shield and sword at his side. He will continue to put his faith in us, to trust us with his life, and the lives of his family. I need hardly remind you how grateful emperors can be to those who give them good service. Do your duty and we’ll all do well out of this. Don’t let me down.’ He ran his eyes along the ranks of his men and then turned to Fuscius. ‘That’s all. Have the men form up by the main gate, ready to march, Optio.’

‘Yes, sir!’ Fuscius stood to attention, and remained there until Tigellinus had left the small parade ground. Then he called out, ‘Sixth Century, left face!’

The two lines turned and stood ready for the next order.

‘March!’

As the column moved forward, Macro spoke quietly to Cato, now marching ahead of him. ‘What do you make of that?’

‘You know what I think,’ Cato answered. ‘We keep our eyes and ears open and watch like a hawk.’