‘You go. Probably just a dog or something. I’ll stay here.’

Marcus felt his heart sink and silently cursed the man’s timidity.

‘No. You come with me!’ the other said angrily. ‘Now!’

As the two of them cautiously made towards the sound, Marcus half rose from his position and crept towards the mouth of the gorge. He slipped into the shadows as he heard one of them mutter, ‘See, there’s nothing here. Let’s get back to our posts.’

‘There was a sound. We both heard it.’

‘Like I said, some animal.’

‘Hmmm.’

Marcus hurried along the gorge as swiftly as he dared, desperate to put some distance between himself and the two sentries. Around him the sides of the gorge rose up, and only a thin gap showed the night sky. It was pitch black and he had to feel his way with the toes of his boots, hands stretched out in front, searching for any obstacles in his path. But there was nothing and underfoot the ground seemed to be an even layer of gravel. Although there was no wind, the temperature was colder than it had been in the valley and Marcus clamped his jaw tightly to prevent his teeth chattering. He could do nothing about the rest of his body and his limbs shivered violently as he pressed on through the darkness. He was terrified of encountering any rebels positioned within the gorge, but there was only silence ahead.

Trembling with cold and nervous exhaustion, Marcus edged round a bend in the gorge and saw a sliver of starlight a short distance ahead, revealing the exit. Then he stopped. It was obvious that Brixus would have sentries at either end of the narrow passage, and those on the outside were likely to be far more vigilant. However, they would be looking for threats approaching the entrance, so would be facing the other way. All the same, Marcus slowed his pace and hugged the side of the gorge as he felt his way towards the opening. Beyond lay a small clearing surrounded by pine trees and covered in a thick blanket of snow. A path crossed the clearing, the snow trodden down by the passage of many men and horses. Marcus was steeling himself to emerge from the gorge and make for the pines when he saw movement along the treeline.

A small party of men was trotting up the path towards the mouth of the gorge. They were halfway across the clearing when a score of men burst from the trees on either side, spears levelled as they closed round the new arrivals.

‘Who goes there?’ a voice called out menacingly.

The men on the track stopped dead and their leader raised an arm as he responded. ‘Trebonius of the scouts. Let us pass."

‘Trebonius? You weren’t expected for days. You’re supposed to be keeping watch on Caesar.’