Macro puffed his cheeks, not quite sure how to respond. ‘You really think an offering is necessary, sir?’

‘It would give me some peace of mind,’ Cato admitted. ‘Will you see to it, Hamedes, on our behalf?’

‘Of course, sir.’

‘As soon as you can.’

‘I will do what I can. The rites associated with good fortune and warding off bad luck were beyond my remit, sir. I was entrusted with more basic offerings. But I will find out for you when we reach Diospolis Magna and I can consult the priests there.’

Cato stared at him and then nodded. ‘Very well, that will have to do.’ He took a deep breath and stood up. ‘Meanwhile, let’s get the convoy under way again. The sooner we reach our destination, the better.’

The convoy continued up the river, passing beyond the delta on to the single expanse of water that flowed through the heart of the great desert that stretched west from the Erythraeum Sea across the continent and formed the southernmost boundary of the Empire. From the river Cato could see the rocky scarps that rose up beyond the narrow belt of cultivated land spilling out beyond both banks of the Nile. Between stretches of reeds and palm trees he saw great numbers of fields tended by peasants and tilled by oxen drawing heavy ploughs as they turned over the dark silted soil that was the source of the province’s great wealth. Before the time when Rome had coveted the fertile farmlands of Egypt, such wealth had funded the ambitions of the Ptolemies, and before them the ancient lineage of the old Pharaohs dating back to time beyond record.

Though they were forgotten, they had lived in an age of marvels, Cato mused as the convoy passed by the trio of pyramids, guarded by a giant Sphinx, a short distance downriver from Memphis. Though he had seen them several days earlier, on the way to report to Petronius, Cato still viewed them with awe as he stood on the foredeck shading his eyes as he stared. They were built on the scale of mountains, it seemed, though geometrically perfect in a manner that nature could never achieve. The sides seemed to be glassy smooth for the most part, and patches of what looked like gold leaf reflected the sun’s rays in such dazzling splendour that Cato thought they would have been impossible to behold when in their prime.

‘Quite a sight,’ said Macro as he came forward to stand beside Cato. He stared a moment longer and then shook his head. ‘Hard to believe it’s the handiwork of the gypos, ain’t it?’