Cato knew that he was stepping on to much more sensitive ground now and would have to think carefully about his responses before he put them into words for the legate.

‘I suppose he was upset by the massacre of the fort’s garrison.’

‘He must have seen dead men before?’

‘Yes, but one - the commander of the fort - was a friend - a good one, it seemed.’

‘Are you saying that he disobeyed his orders on emotional grounds?’

Cato froze. If he answered yes then his evidence might be damning. ‘I don’t know, sir. It’s possible that Centurion Maximius was concerned that the raiders might have posed a danger to the cohort if they moved against us while we attempted to defend the ford. He might have wanted to remove that threat.’

‘He might have,’ Vespasian repeated. ‘But you couldn’t know that if he never said anything about such a danger.’

‘No, sir.’

Vespasian sniffed. ‘Just keep to what you know as fact from now on.’

‘Sorry, sir.’

‘Next . . . when you came in sight of the ford and saw the enemy moving to take the island, would you say that Macro’s century offered the enemy much resistance?’

‘Much resistance, sir?’

‘All right then. For how long did they attempt to defend the crossing once they had caught sight of the rest of the cohort approaching?’

Cato could see the implication of the question immediately, and for the first time began to fear for his friend. ‘It’s hard for me to say, sir. I was at the rear of the column.’

Vespasian sighed and tapped his stylus against the slate.’Was he defending the crossing when you came in sight of it?’

‘No, sir. Some of the men were falling back. They were being covered by Macro and his rearguard. He had to fight his way back to the cohort.’

‘Could you see the fight from where you were on the far bank?’

‘Not quite, sir.’

‘Not quite?’

‘There were trees in the way, sir.’

‘So you had no way of knowing if Macro was forced back, or whether he simply abandoned his position?’

Cato did not reply for a moment. He couldn’t. Even though a denial would not condemn his friend it would not save him either.

‘Sir, you know Macro. You know his quality. He’d never give way to an enemy until the last instant, and even then-’

‘That’s irrelevant, Centurion Cato,’ Vespasian responded curtly. ‘I’m still waiting for an answer to my question.’

Cato stared at his legate helplessly, before he finally spoke. ‘No . . . I couldn’t see the fighting on the island.’

Vespasian made a note, and then looked up and stared searchingly at Cato. Here it comes, the centurion thought. He’s saved the toughest question until last. Cato focused his mind.