Marcus nodded. ‘If it will save lives: Romans as well as slaves. Sir, I have served you loyally. I am grateful that you set me free. I would not defy your will if I could avoid it.’ Marcus clenched his fist and pressed it against his breast. ‘I will not have so many deaths on my conscience.’

Before the confrontation could go further the tent flap rustled as Festus returned with a canteen and large bowl. The rich aroma of stew filled Marcus’s nostrils. Festus hesitated briefly, sensing the chilly atmosphere between the two, and then continued to the desk and set the canteen, bowl and spoon down. Then all was still and no one spoke until Caesar gestured towards the bowl and muttered curtly. ‘Eat.’

Despite his hunger, Marcus found that his appetite had faded and his nerves had left his stomach tightly clenched. He forced himself to pick up the spoon; anything to create a sense of normality.

As he took his first mouthful, Caesar chuckled. ‘You missed an interesting moment, Festus. It appears that our young friend has decided to become something of a moral philosopher.’

Festus frowned. ‘Sir?’

‘Marcus is refusing to reveal the location of the rebel camp.’

Festus turned to Marcus with a look of incomprehension. ‘What is this?’

Marcus swallowed his mouthful of stew and put the spoon down. ‘I did not say that I would not tell you the location. It’s just that I want a deal with you, Caesar. If I give you what you want, there is a price.’

‘A price? What nonsense is this?’ Caesar slapped his hand down on the desk. ‘I will not make any deals. Especially not with a boy. An ex-slave at that.’

‘Then I will say nothing,’ Marcus replied firmly.

Suddenly Festus clenched his hand round the back of Marcus’s neck and shook him hard. ‘How dare you speak to Caesar like that? You will show him the respect he commands, boy!’

Marcus clamped his jaw tightly shut and endured the pain as he kept his eyes fixed on Caesar. At length the proconsul let out a sharp breath,

‘Enough, Festus. Release him!’

Festus pushed Marcus’s head forward, then let go. He kept his position just behind the boy, ready to act again at the slightest sign from Caesar. The latter folded his hands together as he returned Marcus’s stare.

‘What exactly is this price that you would have me pay for the location of the rebels?’

Marcus rubbed his neck tenderly as he carefully ordered his thoughts. ‘I’ll take you to the camp and you can demand their surrender, in return you will spare the lives of the slaves. They are to be returned to their masters unharmed.’

‘What if they don’t surrender?’

‘If you move quickly they will be trapped, sir. They will have to surrender.’

‘What if they choose to resist?’