Cato turned and called softly back to the captain. ‘Get your boat as close to it as you can. If we have to leave in a hurry, I don’t want to run any further than I have to.’

The captain grumbled a sour reply and steered the barge along the riverbank. They passed a few small houses whose dwellers slept on, unaware. Once the barge was as near to level with the fort as Cato could judge in the darkness, he ordered the captain to steer in, aiming for a narrow stretch of earthen bank. Having seen one crocodile strike from the concealment of reeds, Cato was fearful of repeating the experience. The barge grounded softly and gently jolted the soldiers. Cato stood up, took off his sword belt and removed his helmet and scale vest.

Macro stared at him. ‘And what do you think you’re doing, sir?’

‘We’re not going into a fight, just scouting.’ Cato picked up his sword belt and slipped the strap over his head. ‘What are you waiting for?’

With a sigh Macro followed suit, and a moment later so did Junius. Cato turned to him. ‘Not you.’

Junius paused. ‘Sir?’

‘You’re staying here.’

‘I was told to come with you, sir.’

‘And I’m ordering you to remain here. I’m leaving you in charge of the boat. Make sure that the captain doesn’t get cold feet. If we come running, I want the men ready to hold the bank until we reach the boat. Is that clear?’

‘Yes, sir.’

Cato slipped over the side of the barge and splashed into the calf-deep water. He made his way ashore and up the bank to the edge of the long grass that grew there. Macro joined him a moment later and then they set off towards the fort, no more than half a mile away. They reached the edge of a wheat field and picked their way through the crop and then encountered a wide irrigation ditch, with reeds growing along each side. Cato paused, listening.

‘What is it?’ Macro whispered.

‘I . . . nothing. Let’s go.’ Cato was about to climb down into the reeds when there was loud splash and something large rustled through the reeds a short distance to his left. At once Macro drew his sword. They both froze for a moment.

‘What was that?’ Macro asked.

‘Without seeing it, I’d guess it was a crocodile. I think we should find a way round the ditch.’

‘Crocodile?’ Macro quietly put his sword away and muttered, ‘Good idea.’

They followed the ditch for a quarter of a mile without finding its end, or any means of crossing it. Cato fumed at the time they had wasted and decided to double back. Perspiring freely in the warm air, they retraced their steps until they came across a narrow footbridge supported by a crude wooden trestle.

‘After you, sir,’ said Macro.