His gaze scrutinized the remaining legionaries and Decimus’s servants. All were tough-looking men, except one.

‘You, tribune. You’re the next youngest, and I dare say you have lived a pampered enough life to provide a poor showing with a sword. Think you’ve got it in you to defeat this boy?’

Quintus stood slowly, his lips curling with contempt. ‘I am not gladiator scum, like you. I will show you how a Roman noble fights.’ At the last moment his lips trembled, betraying his true feelings, and Mandracus chuckled.

‘Nice try. Like all you Roman aristocrats, you have no heart for a real fight. You leave that to others. Well, not tonight. Not here.’ He cut Quintus’s bonds and then did the same for Marcus. ‘Take your positions.’

Two of the rebels dragged them into the open and turned them to face each other. Swords were thrown down in front of them. Quintus picked his up quickly without waiting for the instruction. Marcus noted that his opponent seemed even more nervous than he felt. He had no desire to fight Quintus or any other prisoner, now that Decimus was removed from the grim contest. But while he still breathed he would fight. Aiming to survive, his determination was fuelled by the hope that Brixus would set him free. If he protested now he would only share the fate of the man who had refused to fight earlier.

He bent down to pick up the sword, grasping it tightly and instinctively testing its weight and balance as he had been trained. He experimented with a slash and a few cuts in the air before being satisfied he understood how the weapon would handle in a fight.

‘Begin!’ Mandracus bellowed.

Unlike the previous fights, the two combatants remained still. Marcus forced all thoughts from his mind to concentrate on what lay ahead. Quintus was of average height and slightly built, which meant he had the potential to move fast, but his reach was little better than Marcus’s. Like many other young men, he had a fondness for wine and the good life. Even after days on the road, his reactions might be slow compared to those who had trained at a gladiator school. Marcus tried to recall something from their brief fight in Ariminum that would give him the advantage here.

The crowd had become quiet, sensing that this bout would be a different, more subtle kind of contest.