Trebellius saluted and then hauled the prisoner up on to his feet. ‘Come on, my little beauty, it’s time for some shut-eye.’

The decurion bundled Turrus out of the mess room and shut the door behind him.

Cato nodded to Decimus squatting in a corner chewing on a strip of dried beef. ‘I want to speak to the optio in command of this outpost.’

Decimus struggled to his feet and limped out of the room. There was a brief silence before Macro gestured to the bowl of stew that had been prepared for Cato. ‘Do you mind?’

The stew had cooled and congealed into a glutinous mass, with a thin film of fat across the surface. Cato shook his head again. ‘Be my guest.’

As Macro tucked into his second helping his friend stroked his jaw and considered their situation.

‘The nearer we get to Bruccium, the stranger things seem to be. Even if half of what our friend Turrus said is true, then we’re really going to be out on a limb. Doesn’t it strike you as very convenient?’

Macro looked up, spoon dripping small brown clods as he held it in mid-air. ‘Convenient, how?’

‘We didn’t exactly win many friends in Rome before we left. Indeed, that’s why Narcissus was doing us a favour getting us posted to Britannia as soon as possible.’

‘And here we are, so what’s the problem?’

‘It’s just that “here” happens to be on the road to an isolated fort as far forward as it’s possible to be, surrounded by enemy warriors and commanded by a man who seems to be a bloodthirsty maniac. It feels to me like we’ve been set up for a fall, Macro.’

‘Set up by who?’

‘Who do you think? Pallas, it has to be.’ Cato recalled the oily Greek freedman who served as an imperial adviser. With the Emperor growing old and infirm, his servants were positioning themselves to take advantage of the situation when Claudius’s successor took the throne. Pallas had sided with the Emperor’s new wife, Agrippina, and her son Nero. The latter might already be Emperor but for Cato and Macro saving the life of Claudius in an attempt on his life. Cato sighed. ‘We put an end to Pallas’s plot against the Emperor and he wants his revenge, as well as to tidy up any loose ends.’

‘Shame that none of the mud stuck to him.’ Macro sniffed. ‘That sly Greek bastard got away with it.’

‘True, but we know what he did. As long as we’re alive then Pallas sees us as a potential threat. He can’t afford for us to reveal what we know, even though few people are going to believe us. What could be better for him than sending us into danger?’