‘Maybe,’ Macro responded, before he snatched at one hopeful possibility. ‘Of course, Postumus might have fallen foul of some of Bannus’ men. After all, he’d have been riding alone. I doubt that any of the villages round here would offer him a safe shelter for the night.’

‘If Bannus had taken him I think we’d already know about it. We’d have had a ransom demand, or Bannus would have made some kind of example of him, so that we’d know the fate of any Romans who fall into his hands. Anyway, this is wishful thinking.We should assume that he got through to Longinus. And we should assume that we’ll know his response to the news any time.’

‘Unless the messenger is taken by Bannus.’

‘Now you’re clutching at straws.’ A smile flickered on Cato’s lips before the serious expression returned. ‘Let’s assume that the summons gets through. In that case we’d better make sure that the cohort will be safe in our absence.’

‘Safe?’

‘As in making sure that Scrofa doesn’t resume control. I think we’d better take him with us. Leave Parmenion as acting prefect.’

‘Can we trust him?’

‘I think so. One other thing. If we are ordered to report to Longinus I think we should have a little talk with Scrofa as soon as possible and find out how far he is implicated in any plot, and see what he can tell us about Longinus.’

‘All right then, we’ll speak to Scrofa,’ Macro agreed. ‘But after I’ve bathed and rested. I’m too tired to think straight at the moment.’

Cato frowned for a moment in disappointment, before he realised that his friend was truly exhausted. ‘Very well, sir. I’ll see to it that you’re not disturbed.’

Macro smiled and patted Cato on the arm. ‘Thanks.’

He turned away and started walking stiffly towards his quarters, then paused and looked back at Cato. ‘Any developments on the Bannus front?’

‘Nothing, whilst you’ve been gone, sir. In fact there’s been no sighting of the brigands at all. I’ve got mounted patrols out looking for them. They’re due back tomorrow. If there’s any news of Bannus, we’ll find out then.’

Macro nodded wearily, and headed off towards the comforts of the prefect’s quarters.

That night, Macro and Cato descended the narrow stairs to the cells that lay under one corner of the headquarters building. Cato carried a torch to light their path and it glimmered on the rough stonework as the two officers made their way along the line of cells. Only one was occupied, at the far end, guarded by two auxiliaries.They were sitting on stools, playing dice, and looking up as Macro and Cato approached they jumped up and stood to attention.

‘At ease,’ Cato said and nodded to the door. ‘How’s the prisoner?’