‘You could say that, sir. Depends what kind of inspiring you mean. He’s a born fighter, the kind who would die rather than give an inch of ground. Trouble is, he wants the same from those who he leads. I saw him beat a man senseless on the parade field once because he wouldn’t leap his horse over a ditch. Let’s just say he takes discipline seriously. And loyalty. I’ve heard he’s supposed to be some kind of prince in his homeland.’ Decimus looked round and leaned closer. ‘That, and some kind of priest. The kind who knows magic. The kind of magic that needs blood sacrifices.’

‘Magic?’ Cato repeated slowly. ‘I’ve yet to see any genuine magic in my lifetime.’

Macro tilted his head to the side. ‘Don’t be so quick to pass judgement. After all, someone’s put a curse on this bloody wine, that’s for certain.’

The decurion scowled briefly, then drained his cup and pushed it away with a nod of thanks. ‘Better see to the horses, sir. They’ll need feeding before the second watch.’

He rose from the bench and left the mess. Macro stared after him and muttered wryly, ‘Was it something I said?’

‘Best not to make fun of someone’s beliefs, sir,’ Decimus suggested mildly.

‘Oh, come on!’ Macro chuckled. ‘Magic? Priests? Sacrifices? That’s a load of old bollocks. Anyone with half a brain knows that the only gods with any clout are Roman gods. That’s why Rome rules the world.’

‘I thought Rome ruled the world because our soldiers were better than everyone else,’ said Cato. ‘In any case, we clearly don’t rule half the tribes on this island.’

Decimus made to reply to Macro but then closed his mouth and looked down into his cup. He was silent for a moment before he said quietly, ‘Some gods are false. Perhaps most of them. But there’s one who is powerful. One who comes from the east. And he promises a life in paradise to all those who choose to follow him.’

Macro laughed. ‘I’ve heard that kind of rubbish before! Cato, you remember? Back in Judaea? The fools who called themselves servants of some wandering holy man. I hope that’s not who you’re talking about, Decimus.’

The former legionary shook his head. ‘Never heard of no Judaean nonsense. I’m talking about Lord Mithras, sir. He’s the one.’

‘Mithras . . .’ Macro scratched his stubbly jaw. ‘Bit of a cult in some units, so I understand. Can’t see the attraction myself. What’s he got to offer that Jupiter hasn’t, eh? Believing in Mithras is no better than that nonsense Trebellius was talking about our Thracian friend.’

Decimus pursed his lips. ‘I think there’s more to it than that, sir.’