Every inn was filled with soldiers, and those who could not get inside stood in the street, sharing jars of wine as they talked in loud, boisterous tones, or squatted round games of dice, gambling with whatever was left of their pay. Marcus guessed that Decimus would not be amusing himself in the company of common soldiers. He was far more likely to be drinking with the officers, men he might have met socially when visiting Rome — men who could one day be useful to him as they rose up the ranks of the Senate.

Marcus stopped outside the first inn he came to and approached a small group of soldiers in their capes who did not yet look too much the worse for wear.

‘Excuse me,’ he said, pulling back his hood. ‘I’ve been sent from headquarters to find one of Caesar’s officers. Any idea where they might be?’

A tall, burly man with thick stubble on his cheeks turned to look down at Marcus. ‘Officers? Who cares a stuff for them, eh? Bunch of stuck-up wasters.’

‘Oil’ one of his companions called out. ‘Leave it out, Publius. Boy’s only asking a question.’ He pushed his surly comrade aside and stood in front of Marcus with an apologetic expression. ‘Ignore him. He’s just a grumbler.’

‘Too right I am!’ his comrade cut in. ‘Why aren’t we resting up in winter quarters? Ain’t right that we’ve been ordered to get out and fight in the middle of winter. Ain’t going to be in good shape when the real campaign starts in spring.’

‘Ah, shut it!’ his companion said crossly, before turning back to Marcus. ‘So what do you want, young ‘un?’

‘I need to find the staff officers. Have you seen them?’

‘Hmm?’ The soldier scratched his chin. ‘Best try the Jolly Boar. Over there by the Temple of Jupiter. It’s supposed to be the classiest inn. That’s your best bet.’ He looked at Marcus more closely. ‘Do I know you? I recognize your face.’

Marcus shook his head. ‘I don’t think we’ve met.’

The man frowned and then clicked his fingers. ‘Yes! It was in Rome. I was on leave there last year. Saw you fight that Celt boy. You’re Marcus Cornelius, right?’

Again, Marcus shook his head. It was already possible that rumours of his fight with Quintus were spreading through the ranks. Marcus was determined to keep his presence secret from Decimus for as long as possible. It would be better to deny his identity for now...

‘I am just a servant of Caesar,’ Marcus replied flatly. The soldier looked disappointed and waved his hand dismissively. ‘Off you go then, boy!’