Macro pointed at the brand on Decimus’s forehead. ‘I can see why. But you’re wasting your time, I’m telling you. Jupiter, best and greatest, and the rest of our lot piss all over anyone else’s gods.’

‘Maybe that’s what you believe now, sir. But I’ll pray to Mithras that he shows you the righteous path all the same.’

Macro shrugged. ‘Pray all you like. It ain’t going to change a bloody thing. I’ll personally put a curse on any man who says different.’

Cato sighed and turned his mind back to the matter of Centurion Quertus. It was evident the man had quality as a warrior and leader and was carrying out his orders to the satisfaction of his superiors. Such a man would not relinquish his position eagerly, or even willingly. Bruccium was far enough away from Glevum for Cato to have to rely on his own authority to take command of the fort and its garrison. It was an acutely uncomfortable prospect and the more he brooded over it, the more of a challenge it seemed.

The following morning the track entered the Silurian mountains and wound its way up the broad valley through which the River Isca flowed. The river was wide and glassy, swollen by the rain that had fallen during the early months of the year, and the snow on the tops of the mountains that had melted into the streams and tributaries of the Isca. The route was guarded by more of the fortlets, whose sentries peered anxiously from behind their palisades at the grim landscape around them. The engineers had felled trees either side of the track to remove the cover that could be used to ambush any patrols or supply columns travelling through the valley. Beyond the cleared ground the trees reared up, and the shadows beneath their boughs were dark and impenetrable. In the distance, as the ground rose steeply, the treeline gave out on to rocky slopes with long grass and shrubs, bent over in the wind that blew across the mountains.

The track began to twist and turn around the rocky outcrops and hills and the conversation of the riders died away as the oppressive landscape and the possibility that they were being watched by the enemy played on their nerves. Cato, having strapped his helmet on, rode beside the decurion at the head of the column and noted the anxious glances that Trebellius directed to each side.

‘Do you think we are in danger here?’ Cato asked quietly.

‘There was a patrol ambushed not far from here several days ago, sir. Lost half their men before they could reach the nearest outpost. In any case, the enemy has become more bold recently. The Silurians have raided the frontier zone as far as the Severnus on several occasions.’