‘Fucking recruits,’ the first man spat on the ground. ‘Can’t move for recruits these days. Bastards don’t know their arses from their elbows.’

‘Right enough, Vassus. Someone should give ‘em a good kicking. Wasn’t for them pansies the bloody cohort wouldn’t be in this mess.’

‘Yeah, a good kicking’s what they need. Look, here they come.’

Two figures emerged from the darkness and the sound of their boots swishing through the grass could just be heard above the wind and rain.

‘What the fuck kept you?’

‘The shits!’ a voice cried back, and there was a short laugh from his companion as they strode up to relieve their comrades.

‘Hang on,’ Vassus muttered, squinting at the looming shapes. ‘There’s no way that big one’s Kaeso or Afer. Who’s that?’

‘Change of detail!’

‘Who is it?’

Vassus was leaning his helmet forward to inspect the new arrivals when a fist shot out of the darkness and connected with his jaw with a loud crack. There was a blinding flash of light in his skull and then he collapsed to the ground, unconscious.

‘What the . . .? It’s Fig-’ His friend’s hand instantly dropped to grasp the handle of his sword, but before it had rasped more than a hand’s breadth from its scabbard he too was felled, thudding to the ground with a grunt of exhaled air.

‘Ouch!’ Figulus whispered as he shook his hand. ‘Bugger’s got a jaw like a rock.’

‘Certainly dropped like one.’ Macro set down a large sack, and there was a dull clatter of metal from within.’I'd hate to be on the receiving end of your fist.’

Figulus chuckled. ‘Just like those shits we dropped outside the quartermaster’s tent.’

‘Right. Very funny. But this one recognised you. You know what that means?’

‘I know, sir. Can we get on with it?’

‘Yes . . . Cato!’ Macro called out softly. ‘Cato! Where are you?’

Several of the prone figures on the ground had wriggled upright as they realised something out of the ordinary was going on. A ripple of nervous excitement spread through the prisoners, voices muttered anxiously.

‘Quiet there!’ Macro whispered as loud as he dared. ‘That’s better . . . Cato!’

‘Here! Over here!’

‘Keep it down, lad!’ Macro picked his way over towards the voice and squinted his eyes to see the unmistakably tall and thin frame of his friend. ‘Want the whole bloody world to hear? Provosts will be down on us like a shot.’

‘What are you doing here?’ Cato sounded astonished.

‘Can’t you guess? You and the rest of this lot are going to escape. With Figulus.’

‘Figulus?’

‘He was seen by the sentries. He has to go with you. You’re going to make a run for it. You and any others who want to get out of here.’

‘Make a run for it?’ Cato whispered. ‘Are you mad?’