The legionaries stiffened to attention, then turned in unison and stamped down their right boots, before breaking ranks and turning towards the gate of the fort. Macro waited a moment before he spoke to Cato. ‘I’ll come to headquarters to collect the authorisation for the ration increase then, sir.’

‘Of course. I’ll join you there directly. Once I’ve dismissed Quertus and his men.’

Macro saluted and beckoned to Severus to join him as he made for the fort. Cato headed back to the Thracian cohort and gave Quertus permission to dismiss his men. As the men led their mounts away, Cato called their commander to join him.

‘There’s one other thing. The Silurian prisoner. He needs to be interrogated.’

‘I’ve already seen to that, sir. My lads dealt with it last night.’

Cato gave him a cold look. ‘I said Centurion Macro would handle the interrogation. I did not order you to do it.’

‘I took the initiative, sir. Seemed to me that the sooner we made the bastard talk, the better.’

‘I see. And did he reveal the location of his village?’

Quertus smiled. ‘He was as good as gold. Gave us very precise directions as well as the number of men under arms.’

‘Very good.’ The anger Cato felt over the Thracian’s taking on the interrogation faded as he contemplated the opportunity afforded by the information given up by the prisoner. ‘Then we can prepare a punitive expedition as soon as possible.’

‘I’ll tell the men.’

‘I will be leading the raid, and Centurion Macro will be joining us. I’m keen to see my new cohort in action.’

Quertus’s smile faded quickly. ‘That’s not necessary, sir. My boys and I know the ropes. Leave it to me and we’ll deal with the Silurians.’

‘I’ve made my decision, Centurion. I’ll see you at headquarters at noon to plan the raid. Bring the prisoner with you. He may be able to provide a few further details if they’re needed.’

Quertus raised his eyebrows.

‘Problem, Centurion?’

‘It’s just that we don’t have the prisoner any more.’

‘What do you mean? He’s escaped?’

‘No, he’s still here. It’s just that I decided we had got all the information that we needed from him.’

‘I’ll be the judge of that,’ Cato said firmly. ‘Just tell me where he is.’

Quertus raised a hand and pointed towards the track leading up to the fort. ‘Just over there.’

Cato turned and glanced round. ‘Why is he out here? I can’t see him. Where is he?’

‘There. Last stake.’

Cato felt a cold dread chill his flesh. He forced himself to look at the avenue of impaled heads, the nearest of which looked more freshly butchered than the rest. He felt his stomach knot as he recognised the bruised features of the young man they had captured two days earlier.

‘Turrus . . .’

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY