They stared at each other before Cato smiled nervously, glad to release the tension that had built up in his chest. Macro grinned. ‘There you go. I think I must have known you for too long, Cato. Irony – now that’s not something that used to come so easily to me. Anyway, what in Hades’ name is going on? Do you think these bastards were acting on their own, or on the orders of Quertus?’

‘What do you think? He’s behind this. He wants me dead, just like the last prefect, so he can carry on running Bruccium like his own little kingdom.’

Macro puffed. ‘He’s taking a big risk. One dead prefect looks like bad luck. Two looks like a conspiracy.’ He paused and shook his head. ‘Fuck . . . Conspiracy. It hangs about us like a bloody cloud. I thought we’d be living the good life once we got back to the army. Not this . . . Are you sure Quertus is behind this?’

‘I’m certain. I was set up, Macro. The standard-bearer must have been in on it. He let the Silurians take the standard, knowing that I would give chase and be led away from the fight. As soon as I was separated from the rest of the cohort, these two went after me. They gave the enemy a chance to do for me first, before they stepped in to finish the job. All very neat. I’d have died a good death trying to save the standard and Quertus would have a story he could sell to you, and report back to headquarters when the time came.’ Cato nodded grimly. ‘He’s as cunning as a snake.’

Macro prodded the dead Thracian with the toe of his boot. ‘What do we do? He’s failed in his attempt, and you’re still alive. What now? Stick a knife between Quertus’s shoulder blades? Bastard deserves as much.’

Before Cato could reply, they heard the sound of approaching horses and looked up to see Quertus leading one of his squadrons down the slope towards them. Macro readied his sword as he turned to face them, his expression grim. Cato moved to his side, and placed his hand on top of the pommel of his sword.

‘Macro,’ he said quietly. ‘We’re in great danger. Let me do the speaking.’

His friend nodded, keeping a wary eye on the approaching riders.

Quertus reined in a short distance away and his men rumbled to a halt on either side. There was a brief stillness during which Cato scrutinised the face of the Thracian officer and saw the cold look of frustration there that confirmed his suspicions. Quertus gestured towards the standard.

‘You saved it, then. Saved the cohort’s honour.’

‘I saved the standard,’ Cato replied deliberately. Then he gestured to the bodies of the Thracians. ‘But I could not save these men.’