Quintus glared at him in silence for a moment. ‘Just who in Hades do you think you are? You’re just a boy. I know you’ve trained as a gladiator and even won a fight or two, but that doesn’t make you an expert in anything. Why on earth Caesar keeps you close to his side is beyond me.’

‘I’m not at his side now,’ Marcus pointed out.

‘But he still listened to you, and holds you in some kind of regard. Just like his niece. Anyone would think you were Portia s little brother from the way she goes on about you.’ he said bitterly.

Marcus frowned. So, she spoke about him. Even to the man who had become her husband. He felt a spark of warmth in his heart. That, and the hope for something impossible, then he pushed the thought aside.

‘Sir, the sooner we set off after the main column the better.’

‘I know that!’ Quintus snapped and tugged sharply on the reins as he turned his mount, trotting back down the line to shout at the men. ‘Get those packs loaded on the wagons! Centurions! Get your men moving. I want the wagons sent off as soon as possible!’

Marcus watched him for a moment, then looked up at the sky. Thick flakes of snow swirled down from the dark grey clouds and there was no sign of any break in the weather. The track along which the column had marched was already covered by fresh drifts, and Marcus realized they had little chance of catching up with Caesar and the main column the following day.

Once the men had formed up, two centuries marched in front of the wagons, with two more at the rear. The rest of the legionaries were strung out beside the vehicles, ready to clear drifts from the track or put their shoulders to the wheels to push the carts and wagons forward. Quintus rode at the head of the formation, with the senior centurion of the cohort at his side. Marcus remained a short distance behind, to keep out of the tribune’s way. He had no desire to antagonize Portia’s husband any further.

It took two hours, as far as Marcus could estimate, for the baggage train to reach the rise from where the villa had been sighted earlier that day. Now the blizzard obscured the way ahead and it was impossible to make out any of the buildings. The water at the edge of the lake had frozen and the snow settling on the ice left only the middle of the lake visible.

As they approached the villa, a faint glow through the fall-ing snow revealed that some buildings were still on fire. A short distance further on Marcus could see the dark mass of the mill by the stream and then the wooden stockade surrounding the villa, the outline of the sharpened stakes clearly defined against the glow of the fire within.