‘So it’s hardly going to impress this royal chamberlain that Symeon mentioned. Besides,’ Cato raised his arms so that the folds of the fine material hung from his thin frame, ‘these clothes feel very comfortable. Very comfortable indeed.You’ll see.’

‘Huh!’ Macro snorted. ‘You look like a high class whore.’

‘Really?’ Cato smiled mischievously. ‘Then just wait until I try on that scented oil.’

Shortly after the sun had appeared above the hills that surrounded the city, the guards came for Macro and Cato. Macro had made a poor show of wearing the clean garments provided for him and the robe hung untidily from his broad shoulders, folds of it overflowing the army belt that he wore loosely about his waist. Earlier, he had refused point blank to wear one drop of the scented oil from the ornate vial that Murad had placed carefully beside the clothes.

‘I will not stink like some two-sestertian tart!’ he fumed.

Cato tried to reason with him. ‘When in Rome-’

‘That’s precisely the fucking point! We’re not in Rome. If we were then I wouldn’t have to take part in this fancy dress nonsense.’

‘Macro, there’s a lot riding on this. Not least the question of our getting out of this cell. We can’t do anything from here. We have to make a good impression on the local powers. So please, arrange those clothes properly at least. And, if you’re not going to wear the oil, you’d better make sure you stand downwind of the chamberlain.’

‘Ha bloody ha,’ Macro grumbled, but he began to pluck the folds of the unfamiliar garb into place.When it came to the sandals, Macro was surprised to discover how comfortable they felt after the sturdy army boots he had grown so accustomed to. Not, of course, that he would admit as much to Cato.

‘All right then. I’m ready. Let’s go.’

They were taken up the tunnel from the cells. As they passed the Parthians, still held in the next cell, Macro winked at them. ‘Enjoy the hospitality, lads.’

‘What’s the point?’ asked Cato.’They can’t understand you.’

‘I’m out here in clean clothes, while they’re stuck in a nasty dark cell.What’s not to understand?’ Macro grinned.

The chamberlain saw them in the court he held adjacent to that of the King. It was a grand hall, lined with columns that soared up to a ceiling covered with geometric patterns picked out in gold. A low dais with an ornate chair and side table stood at the end of the room and light flooded in through shuttered windows high up on the walls. In one corner a caged bird was singing a beautiful but mournful song over and over again. A guard indicated that they were to stand in front of the dais and then turned away and left them, closing the doors behind him.