‘Silence there!’ a voice roared out, and Cato saw the transverse crest of a centurion’s helmet appear above the gate. The face was indistinct in the dim light but the voice was unmistakable. As soon as the men had fallen silent Tullius looked down on the wretched figures standing outside the fort, then fixed his gaze on the taller and thinner man. For a moment neither officer spoke and Cato was consumed by a sudden terrible doubt and wondered if it had been a foolish mistake to have presented himself before the fort. Perhaps Nepos had been right. They should have stood off, shouted the warning, and then fled for safety. The dread was over in a moment, as Cato reminded himself that his only future lay with the army, whatever the outcome.

‘Centurion,’ Tullius called out,’what the hell are you doing here?’

The formality of his tone was not lost on Cato and he knew that Tullius was trying to give him one last chance to run.

‘I have to speak to Maximius. At once.’

Tullius stared at him a moment, then shrugged before he turned away to give his orders to the men waiting below by the gate. ‘Open her up. Optio of the watch! Send a squad out to arrest those men.’

With a deep groan from the hinges the gates swung inwards and at once eight men with drawn swords doubled out and surrounded Cato and Nepos. There was no hiding the surprise in their expressions as they beheld the two fugitives. Surprise, and distaste, Cato realised, and he was suddenly very conscious of their filthy and ragged appearance and felt ashamed. Even so, he drew himself up and, with as much dignity as he could scrape together, he marched in through the gate, flanked by his guards. Out of one prison and straight into another, he mused bitterly, and could not suppress a rueful grin.

The guards halted once the party had entered the fort and the gate was shut behind them. Cato turned to look up at the gatehouse and saw Tullius swing himself on to the ladder and climb down. There was no expression on the veteran’s face, and Cato felt the spontaneous smile of greeting fade from his lips. Tullius stopped, a few feet from Cato and shook his head.

‘What the fuck do you think you’re doing?’

Cato cleared his throat. ‘I must speak to Centurion Maximius, sir.’

Tullius stared at him a moment and then, without looking away, he gave an order. ‘Optio of the watch.’

‘Sir?’

‘My compliments to the cohort commander. Tell him he’s wanted at the main gate.’

Once the optio had trotted away Tullius stepped right up to Cato and spoke softly.

‘What are you playing at, lad? The moment Maximius claps eyes on you you’re a dead man.’

‘If I don’t warn him, then we’re all dead men.’

‘Warn him?’ Tullius frowned.’Warn him about what?’