‘I don’t know.’ Domitius was not sure that Nicopolis was doomed, although part of him wanted to believe that Caecilius was right, because part of him still thought of himself as a soldier of the legions. The new rampart was being savaged by the Roman ballistae quicker than it could be rebuilt, but what the attackers did not know was that a new, much stronger line had been made behind it, using the nearest houses as strongpoints and joining them together with a stone wall. They were doing the same to close off any breach made in the eastern wall, now that the ram was pounding away once more.

Caecilius pushed himself up a little straighter, moaning because it hurt him, but refusing any help. ‘I am going to tell you something. Might not matter, not ever, but it might give you a chance, someday or other. Reckon I owe you that.’

‘You don’t owe me anything, sir. It’s the other way around. You taught me so much.’

‘Not enough though. And you’re wrong, but it does not matter. You were dumb not to lie, dumber still to have let that bastard Ferox talk you into telling him things.’

Domitius frowned. ‘I don’t understand.’

‘Thick, as I’ve always said. Who in all of Hades do you think turned you in as a Christian? You did not give me much choice. Others wanted you dead, but I came up with a way to let you live, but make sure you didn’t say anything else ever again, because the old charge could easily come back. All made sense, until you buggered it all up.

‘Hate me if you like – if you folk are allowed to hate, that is. Doesn’t matter now. Nothing much matters now, but come close and I’ll tell you a few things that might just save your life – or not, but it will help me to die easy at least.’

Domitius did as he was asked, even though his mind was reeling and he even wondered whether the dying man had a dagger hidden under his blanket and was about to stab him. He listened for a long time, pausing now and then to help Caecilius take a drink.

‘Got all that?’ the primus pilus said at last.

‘Yes.’

‘Good. Might be a chance. Gives you something else to bugger up, at least. Now clear off. I’ll happily see you tomorrow if I haven’t escaped!’

Domitius had tears in his eyes as he left, and was not sure how much was sorrow and how much was rage. Even hearing the Roman voices talking, when he passed the hatch in the door to one of the bigger cells, brought back so many memories of his old life.

Sleep did not come readily, although he must have drifted off at some point, because he jerked awake when he heard a woman screaming. He was locked in, and his shouts prompted no more response than one of the guards pounding on his door and telling him to be silent.