Cato and Macro watched the preparations from a bench at the side of the room. Macro sat with his back against the wall, his legs stretched out and arms folded, apparently unmoved by the prisoner’s suffering. Cato, however, was not so insouciant. The interrogation of the prisoner was a necessary evil as far as he was concerned and he was keen to see it over with as soon as possible.

One of the Thracian interrogators turned to Quertus and stated, ‘He’s ready, sir.’

Before Quertus could respond, Cato leaned forward and snapped, ‘You will address your remarks to me, trooper, if you want to avoid a charge of insubordination.’

The Thracian glanced at Quertus, who nodded discreetly. The man stood to attention. ‘Yes, sir. The prisoner is prepared for interrogation, sir.’

Cato replied, ‘Very good. You may begin.’

‘Yes, sir!’

The trooper went round to the front of the prisoner while his comrade moved behind Maridius, and savagely kicked him just behind the knee joints. The prisoner slipped down and his shoulders took the full weight of his body. He let out a strained cry of agony and then rolled his head back, eyes clenched, as he fought the pain. The man in front of him squatted slightly, drew his fist back and slammed it into Maridius’s gut, driving the air from his lungs and leaving him gasping for breath. Another blow followed, and another in a steady rhythm, working his stomach and chest, until the cries of pain gave way to muted groans and gasps.

Cato leaned closer to Macro and muttered, ‘Is this strictly necessary? Again?’

Macro nodded. ‘You saw how it was with that Silurian, Turrus. They breed ’em tough in Britannia. That’s why we need to spend more time softening ’em up before we get to the questions. Works well enough in most cases, but Maridius is proving something of a challenge. Maybe Quertus and his boys will succeed where Severus failed.’ Macro was silent for a moment and his stomach grumbled. ‘Pity I didn’t have time to finish that last loaf. Bloody Decimus took his own sweet time in fetching it for us. I’m hungry.’

‘Hungry?’ Cato wondered. The spectacle before him did little for his appetite, but then nothing ever put Macro off his food, he reflected.

The blows continued for a while longer, before Quertus stepped forward and waved his men aside. ‘That’ll do for now, lads. Give him a breather before we continue.’

The Thracian troopers backed off and sat at a table in the corner of the room, while Quertus pulled up a stool and sat down in front of the prisoner. All was still for a moment and the sound of Maridius’s ragged breathing filled the room, above the faint moan of the wind gusting around the walls of the guardhouse.