To one side of the parade ground stood an array of tents where the legate had erected a temporary headquarters for himself and the new procurator. The area was heavily guarded by Vespasian’s praetorian unit and, despite his rank, Cato was told to wait beyond the roped-off area surrounding the tents. While five guards stood by, watching him closely, the sixth trotted off for instructions regarding the centurion. Although there looked to be at least a hundred men under arms within the area allotted to senior officers and their staff, the Second Legion itself was camped outside Calleva, in a huge fortification that was almost as big as the adjacent capital of the Atrebatans. It provided a salutary reminder to those who still harboured any rebellious impulse of the monolithic nature of the force they would have to overcome.

A clerk approached from the long, low tent that fronted the headquarters area. He caught the attention of one of the guards. ‘Let the centurion pass.’

The praetorians moved aside to let Cato by, but he stiffened his back and glared at them.

‘It’s customary to salute a superior officer,’ Cato said in a quiet, icy voice, ‘even for members of the legate’s personal guard.’

The veteran optio commanding the praetorians couldn’t help showing his surprise. Not so much that the officer standing in front of him was nearly young enough to be his son, but because he was carrying no badges of rank and only a stickler for military etiquette would have insisted on a salute whilst wearing only a tunic. But Cato refused to move. He was in a sour mood over the high-handed treatment of his men since they had returned to Calleva.

The Wolves had been denied access to the army camp. Instead they were given some of the least damaged tents from the depot and told to pitch them in the royal enclosure. Cato had spent the first night with them, but when Vespasian heard of this he immediately ordered the centurion to return to his legion and remain in the camp until he received further orders. He and Macro were told that the legate would reassign them as soon as circumstances permitted. With no duties to do Macro took every chance to sleep, while Cato had wandered through the ranks of goatskin tents for hours on end, trying to make himself tired so that he could get some rest. But even when the summer sunlight finally failed and he curled up on his bedding, Cato’s mind turned the recent events over and over, and his concerns about his men denied him the rest his exhausted body needed.