The track dipped down again, towards a brook that meandered along the edge of a small wood of ancient oak trees. The placid surface of the water exploded as Narcissus and his bodyguards splashed through the ford and emerged glistening on the far side. The horsemen were no more than two hundred paces behind as their prey galloped along the track winding through the oak trees. The path was well worn and deep wagon ruts forced them to the side to spare their mounts the risk of broken legs. There was gorse in the undergrowth and Narcissus felt it tear at his breeches as they raced on, heads lowered to avoid being knocked by projecting branches. The distant thrashing of water revealed that their pursuers had reached the ford.

‘Nearly there!’ Marcellus shouted. ‘Keep going!’

The route wound through the trees, sunlight dappling the ground where it broke through the green canopy above the riders. Then the way opened out ahead of them and in the distance lay the fortified gate of the camp. Narcissus felt a surge of joy at the sight and the realisation that they might be spared after all.

The horses, dripping with water and perspiration, galloped out into the sunshine.

‘You there!’ a voice barked out. ‘Halt! Halt!’

Narcissus saw a party of men resting in the shade of the trees at the fringe of the wood. Around them lay piles of freshly cut wood, and pack mules grazed contentedly. Javelins were stacked within easy reach and the men’s shields were standing on their curved bases, ready to be snatched up at a moment’s notice.

Marcellus jerked his reins in savagely and his horse slewed towards the firewood detachment. He drew a deep breath and shouted, ‘To arms! To arms!’

The men reacted at once and jumped up and ran for their weapons as the three horsemen galloped towards them. The optio in charge of the detachment strode forwards, his sword raised warily.

‘And who the hell do you think you are, sunshine?’

The three riders only slowed their mounts to a stop once they were in amongst the legionaries. Marcellus slipped from the back of his horse and thrust his arm back towards the track.

‘Behind us! You must stop them!’

‘Who’s behind you?’ the optio growled irritably. ‘What are you talking about?’

‘We’re being pursued. They’re trying to kill us.’

‘You’re not making sense! Calm down, man. Explain yourself. Who are you?’

Marcellus jerked his thumb at Narcissus, bent over his saddle as he struggled for breath. ‘Special envoy from the Emperor. We’ve been attacked. The escort’s been wiped out. They’re just behind us.’

‘Who is?’ the optio demanded again.

‘I don’t know,’ admitted Marcellus.’But they’ll be on us any moment. Form your men up!’