‘I seek no reward, sir. And Quertus will not be able to accept one either.’

‘Oh? Why not?’

‘Centurion Quertus is dead, sir.’

‘Dead. How?’

Cato hesitated for an instant. ‘He died fighting, sir.’

The legate nodded. ‘I would expect nothing less of the man. He will be avenged. But first we must lose no time in marching on Bruccium. Wait here, Prefect. I’ll issue orders to my staff to have the men ready to break camp at first light.’ He scratched the stubble on his chin. ‘It’s thirty miles. Nearly two days’ march. Who have you left in command at the the fort?’

‘Centurion Macro, sir.’

‘A good man?’

‘The best, sir.’

‘Then I pray that we arrive in time to save him, and the others. We can’t afford to lose good officers like him, and Quertus.’

‘No, sir.’

The legate gestured towards a jar of wine on his desk. ‘Help yourself while I set things in motion. I’ll be back as soon as I can. I will need more details from you.’

‘Thank you, sir.’

Once he was alone, Cato stood still for a moment, his mind dulled by tiredness, but he could not allow himself to rest yet. He took one of the legate’s finely decorated silver cups and poured himself a generous amount of wine. With the cup in hand, he eased himself down on to a couch with a horsehair cushion and took a sip. It was a sweet wine, not quite to Cato’s taste but it warmed his insides as it flowed into his stomach. He resisted the temptation to drain the cup and pour another. He needed to keep his wits about him. There were certain matters that he still had to resolve with the legate before he could let go and rest. He felt his eyelids drooping and instantly stood up, the wine slopping from his cup. Setting the cup down, Cato made himself pace steadily up and down the length of the office, not trusting himself to stop, let alone sit again. His head felt as if it was stuffed with wool and he worried that his mind would not be able to function as sharply as it needed to. The rhythmic pounding of a headache made matters worse.

It was almost an hour before Quintatus returned, fully dressed and freshly shaven, and Cato mentally cursed him for taking the time for the latter when he should have returned here to continue his conversation.

‘Glad to see you are still awake, Prefect. You can get some rest soon. I’ve told my body slave to have a bed prepared for you in the tribune’s mess. There’ll be hot food and drink as well.’

Cato nodded his thanks and the legate returned to his desk and sat. He waved Cato towards the couch. ‘Please.’

‘I’ll stand, sir.’