‘This your first visit to Nikopolis?’ he asked, speaking in Greek. The man did not seem to understand, but with his back to all the others, Domitius cupped his hands and crossed his thumbs in a gesture Ferox had shown him months ago.

‘Don’t speak the lingo,’ the barbarian said in strongly accented Latin and gave no indication of recognising the sign, but still took the small shard of pottery Domitius pressed into his hand. It quickly vanished, and as far as he could tell no one had noticed the exchange.

Later Domitius wondered whether or not he had done the right thing. He hated the thought of keeping anything from his hosts, even though he could not see how it involved them in any way. Sleep did not come that night, for he worried about Ferox and his intentions, and about Simon and his family, and John’s warning.

Perhaps none of it really mattered. Later the day after next he heard that Demetrios of Alexandria had been attacked. No one was quite sure what had happened, but three bodies of his barbarian bodyguards were found, all hacked to pieces. The waggon was there as well, its contents stolen or burned.

VI

On the road to the crossing at Zeugma

Tenth day before the Kalends of April

PHILO WAS NERVOUS and Ferox could not blame him. The lad – who was now thirty, but it was hard to think of him as anything other than a boy – did not lack courage. He was not a fighter, and more than that, he had his wife with him. Romans often claimed that slaves became docile by nature, frightened of everything and lacking courage and that this taint persisted when they were freed. Ferox did not believe a word of it, for he had seen cowardice and courage mixed in folk of all ranks and all races. Philo and Indike were devoted to each other and had come through a lot together. They had wanted to come and the plan of posing as a merchant and escorts was a better one than anything else anyone dreamed up. Yet the risk was always there and now it was catching up with them.

‘I think I saw one,’ Philo said quietly.

Actually there were at least four and they had been following them for over an hour. Four against their five gave decent enough odds, except that this was the east and the one he had seen closest had carried a bow in a case behind his saddle. More than likely they all had them, and the archers from these lands tended to be good. So the enemy would not need to come close to kill them all. Ferox did not doubt that they were enemy even if he did not know who they were. They could be simple bandits, even slavers, on the prowl for any opportunity. After all, the merchant Demetrios had goods and money and a pretty wife, so there was plenty worth taking for those inclined. One rider had followed them from the city, hanging back in the loose procession leaving Nicopolis on the morning after the market. Ferox had seen him a couple of times, a tall, hawk-faced man in dull green trousers and tunic and a tall felt hat, who did not seem to be attached to any other party as guard. He might have been a horse trader who had sold his animals and was heading home on his own or he might have been a bandit seeking a good target. The two were not exclusive whether here or in much of the empire. An hour out from the city, Ferox had spotted a horseman, briefly outlined on top of a hill to the right of the track. The other two were on the opposite side, and again made brief appearances. Ferox guessed that this was to show the man with the column that they were there, unless they were sloppy or simply uncaring. Four men would not attack so many people, but he could see that the guards with other parties had noticed the threat and were more wary.