‘Hah! It is good to see you again, Roman! Too many years have passed.’

Macro clasped the giant’s arms and eased himself free of the powerful grip. He took a deep breath before he responded. ‘I see you’ve picked up a bit more Latin since last time.’

‘It is well to speak the tongue of your friend,’ Prasutagus responded, his accent heavy but his words readily comprehensible. He turned to Cato and grasped his hand and smiled warmly. ‘And you, Cato. Still as cunning and brave, I think.’ He tapped the scar that ran down from Cato’s forehead. ‘The mark of a warrior, eh?’

‘The mark of a man who did not get out of the way of a blade in time, more like,’ Cato replied with a smile.

His wife approached and looked Cato over with a slight expression of concern. ‘You were little more than a youth when last we met. Now you look more like Macro did then.’

‘What?’ Macro interrupted. ‘Then what do I look like now?’

Boudica scrutinised him. ‘Your face is more lined, and there is grey in your hair, but you are still the same Macro I knew. Which is as well. It is good to see an old friend . . .’ Her tone became more serious. ‘Friendship is needed now more than ever. Relations between Rome and the Iceni are fragile. I take it you are aware of our recent history?’

‘We heard about the rebellion,’ said Cato. ‘It is a pity.’

‘Pity?’ Prasutagus’s eyebrows knitted together. ‘It was a tragedy. A betrayal of the bond between our people and Rome. Ostorius demanded we surrender weapons, even after I gave my word of honour that we hold true to our alliance with the Emperor. Some gave up weapons. Others did not and died with sword in hand.’ Prasutagus lowered his gaze. ‘They were fools, but brave fools. Perhaps . . .’

‘You did the right thing.’ Boudica squeezed his hand. ‘You survived and now you serve the Iceni people. They need you.’

Prasutagus shrugged. Cato sensed his wounded honour but could not help the urge to discover the full story. ‘So, how did you come to be King?’

‘I was one of the few who had no part in the rebellion. I was too sick to fight alongside my brothers. So when it was over, the governor chose me to replace the old king. He was killed in the battle.’

‘I see. I am sure that Ostorius’s choice was wise.’ Cato turned and gestured towards their table. ‘Would you care to drink with us? That is Macro’s mother, and the others are comrades from the army.’

‘Macro’s mother?’ Boudica cocked an eyebrow. ‘Now there’s someone I would be fascinated to talk to.’

But Prasutagus was staring coldly at the two tribunes and shook his head. ‘Another day, my friends. When we can speak freely to each other.’

Pellinus flushed at the words and stood up. He addressed Cato. ‘Thank you for the drink, sir. We are expected back at headquarters and have to beg our leave of you now.’