‘I’m not sure that I am pleased with the direction this conversation is taking.’

Cato rubbed his brow, wincing at the headache that was starting to make him feel nauseous. ‘Sir, I am not trying to make trouble. I just wish to make matters clear. If you are unhappy with what I say then I can only assure you that I am unhappier still to be pursued by the ill will of an enemy far away in Rome. Please do me the courtesy of being honest, as I am being.’

The legate considered this for a moment and then nodded. ‘Very well. Continue. But I may not wish to confirm or deny any suggestion you put to me.’

‘I understand.’ Cato struggled a moment to think clearly before he continued. ‘My posting to Bruccium was intended to solve two problems. Firstly, it was hoped that I would be disposed of by being sent there. If the enemy didn’t see to that, then Centurion Quertus had shown himself willing and able to dispose of commanders. Secondly, you calculated that his . . . methods would provoke Caratacus. He could hardly carry on operations against Ostorius while his allies were being forced to endure the wholesale massacres that Quertus took to with such enthusiasm. The Silures would either be forced to sue for peace, or they would threaten to withdraw their warriors to protect their own lands. Neither of which Caratacus could permit. So he was forced to make for Bruccium, where in due course he would present you with an opportunity to confront him.’ Cato nodded. ‘I congratulate you, sir. It is a neat solution. Your talents are wasted here on the frontier. I am sure that they would be better employed in Rome.’

‘I take it that was intended as an insult.’

Cato sighed. ‘Merely a statement of fact.’

The legate’s face twitched, and then he composed his features and regarded Cato closely. ‘And what do you propose to do about it? You must know that I can easily brush aside such accusations. It would be your word against mine.’

‘I know that.’

‘Then what do you want from me?’