It felt odd to be giving the veteran orders, and Cato realised that it would be best to preserve some sense of the proper code of behaviour if he were to keep Tullius on his side. The old centurion might be well past his prime, and his nerves were clearly worn down, but he still had the sense to see what needed to be done. Cato knew he must have every ally he could win over before he dared to confront Centurion Maximius.

Tullius nodded. ‘Right. Just you stay out of sight, young Cato.’

Cato nodded and let the leather drop back to the ground. Glancing round he saw the cohort commander’s personal chest. A red cloak was folded over the side and leaning against it was a sword. It was not the finely crafted sword he habitually wore,just the standard issue, with a handle worn glassy and smooth with age. Cato smiled. It must be a relic from Maximius’ days as a legionary, now just a keepsake. A most useful keepsake. Cato quietly drew the blade and then flipped the corner of the cloak over the top of the scabbard to conceal the sword’s absence.

He passed the sword to Nepos. ‘Take this, and then hide yourself over there, just inside his sleeping quarters. You stay there, and keep silent. Only come out if I call for you. Understand?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Good. Now go.’

As Nepos padded away Cato glanced round for a hiding place for himself and then turned back to the chest. It had high sides and had been positioned out of the way at the rear of the tent. Treading softly round the chest he lowered himself behind it and settled down to wait for Maximius to return with his officers. It was fortunate, Cato reflected, that the routine of the Roman legions was immutable. The cohort commander would return to his tent for the morning briefing of his officers just as certainly as night followed day.

Outside the tent the sounds of the legionaries going about their duties was familiar and reassuring after the anxious days Cato had spent hiding in the marsh. Not for the first time he felt that the legion had become his home, and for as long as he lived he would only ever feel safe and secure while he was in its embrace.

There was little chance of a long life now, he decided bitterly. Even if Maximius didn’t try to kill him on the spot, then the enemy warriors bearing down on the fort would succeed where the centurion had failed. For a moment Cato was tempted to call for Nepos and make a break for it, and get out of the fort, before the cohort commander returned to his tent. Cato clenched his teeth and punched his thigh furiously. He had committed himself now, and he must confront Maximius if there was any chance to avert disaster.