‘Fucking shit!’ Antonius glared at the sausage spitting in the heart of the fire and everyone else laughed.

‘Consider that a sacrifice!’ Maximius grinned. ‘An offering to . . . which god shall we honour?’

‘Fortuna,’ Macro said seriously.’We need all the luck we can get. Right now.’

He nodded over Maximius’ shoulder and the centurions turned to look at a squad of soldiers marching down the sleeping lines of the men of the Third Cohort.

‘Provosts!’ Felix spat into the fire.’Trust them to go and ruin a decent breakfast.’

They fell silent as the squad marched up, led by an optio from the legate’s personal bodyguard. They halted a short distance from the group sitting round the fire. The optio stepped forward.

‘Centurion Maximius, sir.’

‘Yes.’

‘You’re to come with us. The general wants to question you.’

‘I see.’ Maximius bowed his head for a moment, as if composing himself, then he nodded. ‘All right . . . All right, then. Let’s go.’

He set his mess tin down and rose to his feet, brushing the crumbs from his soiled and bloodied tunic. He forced a smile on to his face. ‘I’ll see you lads a bit later. Tullius?’

‘Sir?’

‘Get the cohort up for me. Ready for duty. I’ll do an inspection as soon as I get back.’

‘Yes, sir.’

The optio nodded towards the small collection of tents in the centre of the camp.

‘I’m coming,’ Maximius responded with a trace of irritation at the optio’s manner.

The centurions silently watched as their cohort commander was marched away between the double file of provosts. Maximius stiffened his back and strode forward as if he was on the parade ground.

‘Poor bastard,’ Cato said softly enough that only Macro heard him. ‘This is the end of the road for him, isn’t it?’

‘Yes,’ Macro muttered. ‘If there’s any justice.’

05 The Eagles Prey

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

The optio and the provosts returned with Maximius just over an hour later. Tullius had carried out his orders and the legionaries were formed up ready for inspection. In the short time that they had been allowed, the men had struggled to make the best of their appearance. As Tullius caught sight of their commander approaching he bellowed out the order to call them to attention and the men stamped their feet together and stiffened their backs, staring fixedly ahead. The centurions stood to the front of their men, and to each side of them stood their optio and standard-bearer. As Maximius and his escort approached, Cato could see that he looked strained and shaken by his questioning. He acknowledged Tullius’ formal greeting with a nod and then, without even looking at the men, he quietly ordered Tullius to dismiss them.

‘Cohort! Fall out!’