Cato concentrated his mind and began a detailed account of the march of the cohort towards the supply fort, the scene they found there, the orders for Macro’s century to find what tools they could from the fort and then head to the ford and start preparing defences while they waited for the rest of the cohort to arrive, once they had finished chasing down and destroying the raiders. He did not flinch from describing Maximius’ orders to blind the prisoners. He broke off his account to ask a question.

‘Has anyone been sent to find the prisoners, sir?’

‘Yes. A squadron of scouts went out this morning to find them and put them out of their misery.’

‘Oh . . .’

‘Please continue.’

Cato described how the cohort had marched as fast as they could towards the ford, and that they had broken into a run once they spied the enemy assaulting Macro’s century; how they had seen Macro’s cohort falling back, and then quickly outlined the attempt made to hold the near side of the crossing before they were driven back and desperately fought their way to safety in the direction of the rest of the Second Legion.

When he had finished Vespasian nodded and reached down to the clerk’s slate to read back over Cato’s evidence. He paused a few times to check it against other slates that Cato realised must be the results of the previous interviews. At length Vespasian took up a blank slate and a stylus and carefully made some notes before he looked up at Cato again.

‘Just a few questions, Centurion. Then you can go.’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘At the fort, when Centurion Maximius gave the order to pursue the raiders, did you or any other officer point out that this was a breach of the orders your cohort had been given?’

‘Not me, sir. It’s not for me to question the word of a cohort commander. The others clearly felt the same, sir. Except Macro. He tried to point out that our orders required us to move to the ford by a specified time, and we were already behind schedule.’

Vespasian raised an eyebrow. ‘But you’d left the marching camp in plenty of time. Why the delay?’

‘Troops seemed to be marching slower than I’d have liked, sir.’

‘Did anyone else notice?’

‘Someone might have made a comment. I can’t recall.’

‘Did Maximius notice?’

‘I don’t know, sir.’

‘Very well.’ The legate scribbled a note and ran his finger down the slate to his next question. ‘Did Maximius give any reasons for his order to go after the raiders?’

‘He didn’t have to, sir. He’s the cohort commander.’

‘Very well. In your view, why did the cohort commander ignore Centurion Macro and go after the raiders?’