Festus straightened up and paced over to the rebel. He wrenched the frail man to his feet. Then, drawing his dagger, he dragged him round the corner of the shed and out of sight. By the time the rest of Caesar’s officers arrived the first cries of terror and pain cut through the air, only slightly muffled by the roar of flames that consumed the main building some fifty paces away. Tribune Quintus nodded towards the villa wall beyond the burning building.

‘One of the decurions found some bodies over there, sir. Looks like the owner of the villa and his family, and their overseers. Their throats have been cut.’

Marcus saw the shaken expression on the tribune’s face as Caesar turned to him.

‘That’s too bad.’

Quintus nodded and hesitated a moment before he spoke again. ‘Should I give orders for a funeral or burial, sir?’

‘There’s no time for that. Once Festus gets the information I need we’ll be moving out.’

‘What if the rebel won’t speak, sir?’ asked Marcus. ‘What if he doesn’t know anything useful?’

‘He’ll know something. And trust me, he will speak. Festus has never let me down in that regard.’

Before Marcus could respond there was a long, piercing shriek from behind the shed, and then another, followed by a terrified gabbling and pleading before a fresh scream sent a shiver down Marcus’s spine.

While the torturing continued, Caesar sent some men to search the buildings for food and wine. When they returned, together with some stools, he and his officers sat down and tucked into the makeshift meal. While Caesar attempted to lighten the mood by talking about the approaching campaign in Gaul, Marcus stood a short distance away and looked on with a growing sense of disgust. He could not block out the pies of the rebel. In the end, he paced away, standing close to the burning building where the roar of flames almost covered up the sounds of torment.

At length the rebel fell silent and a moment later Festus emerged, wiping the blood from his dagger with a strip of cloth cut from the rebel’s cloak. As he saw him, Marcus turned away from the fire to rejoin Caesar and his officers.

‘Well?’ Caesar demanded. ‘What did you get out of the wretch?’

‘He didn’t know, or wouldn’t say, where Brixus has his camp, sir. He was part of a separate band that Brixus had ordered to raid this villa.’

‘Damn! Is that all?’

‘No, sir.’ Festus sheathed his dagger. ‘There’s more. After this raid, Polonius and the others will join Brixus in a gathering of his bands. They are massing to attack the town of Sedunum, at the end of the next valley. Brixus and two thousand of his men will attack at dawn tomorrow.’

Caesar’s lips parted in a cold smile. ‘How far is it to the town?’