At the end of the first day the column reached a small town perched on a cliff above a stream. While the men set up their tents on the open ground outside the town walls, Caesar and his entourage found accommodation in the house of an affluent mule-breeder. Publius Flavius glumly told his guests about the constant raids on outlying farms and villages in the area. A shepherd had driven his flock into the town the previous day, claiming to have seen a party of rebels - no more than a hundred of them, on foot - making for a villa in a valley not ten miles away. Caesar ordered Marcus to take down the details as he listened patiently, then reassured Flavius that the threat would soon be extinguished.

The following morning the temperature dropped and snow began to fall, blanketing the tiled roofs of the town and drifting across the track that led further into the mountains. Caesar inspected the path with a frustrated expression before turning to issue orders to his closest followers.

‘We’ll take the cavalry and ride on. The rest of the column will follow as best they can. I’m keen to catch up with those slaves seen by the shepherd. If we can capture them, they’ll provide us with useful intelligence about Brixus. With a bit of luck, they might even know where he is.’

Festus puffed his cheeks out and cleared his throat. ‘Is that wise, sir?’

‘Wise?’ Caesar asked tonelessly, but Marcus saw the dangerous glint in his eyes, the prelude to one of his angry outbursts. ‘Why would it not be wise, Festus?’

‘Sir, it would mean dividing the force yet again.’

‘I have more than enough mounted men to take on a hundred rebels. Besides, the infantry and the wagons are holding us up. If we stay together the enemy will escape. I won’t let that happen. My mind is made up. Give the orders to the cohort commanders. Meanwhile, the cavalry are to set off as soon as they are ready.’

Festus bowed his head. ‘Yes, sir.’

As the head of his bodyguard strode off to relay the orders, Caesar caught Marcus’s eye.

‘The chase is on, eh, Marcus?’

Marcus nodded, despite his doubts. He agreed with Festus. Caesar was taking a risk. But clearly there was no changing his mind.

‘If Fortuna favours us,’ Caesar continued, rubbing his hands together to warm them, ‘then we might discover where Brixus is hiding by the end of the day. Think on that. We find and destroy Brixus and his rabble, and so break the spirit of those who would follow him. The slaves will learn their lesson. No one defies Rome. Then I will be free to turn my attention to Gaul.’

‘Yes, sir. And I can seek out my mother.’

Caesar flashed him a look of irritation. ‘Of course. Did you think I had forgotten?’