‘I’m not quite finished yet,’ muttered Cato, his gaze flickering up from the draft report Macro had dictated. The clerk had obviously had a hard time of it, judging from the number of crossed-out phrases and other corrections. Cato wished that Macro had not had quite so much to drink before beginning work on the report that would be sent to Vespasian and copied to the general. Now that the sun was setting, and they were sitting in the thin gleam of oil lamps at the wooden table in Macro’s office, the effects of the wine were receding a little. Enough, at least, for them to check through the reports. Macro had been brief to the point of terseness in his description of the ambush, but the salient facts were there clearly enough, and the two senior officers who would read the document should be pleased with the result, Cato decided. Only the final part concerned him.

‘I’m not sure about this bit.’

‘Which bit?’

‘Here, where you describe the situation in Calleva.’

‘What’s wrong with it?’

‘Well,’ Cato paused a moment to consider. ‘I think the situation’s a bit more complicated than you make it sound.’

‘Complicated?’ Macro frowned. ‘What’s complicated about it? We’ve got the population onside and Verica’s bathing in the glory won by his troops under our command. Things couldn’t be better. Our allies are happy, we’ve given the enemy a good kicking and it hasn’t cost us one Roman life.’

Cato shook his head. ‘I don’t think that we can count on the happiness of a great many of the Atrebatans, judging from what I saw today.’

‘A few sour grapes, and that shrieking old crone you told me about? Hardly amounts to a serious threat of insurrection, does it?’

‘No,’ Cato admitted, ‘but we don’t want Plautius getting the wrong impression.’

‘And we don’t want to worry the general about a few malcontents when he’s got his mind fixed on pushing the legions forward against Caratacus. Cato, old lad, the way to get on in this man’s army is always to err on the side of optimism.’

‘I’d prefer to err on the side of realism,’ Cato replied bluntly.

‘That’s up to you.’ Macro shrugged. ‘But don’t count on any further promotions. Now, if there’s nothing else you think I should change, let’s get tarted up and join the celebrations.’