Cato had put on his full armour and climbed into the turret on the foredeck to survey the other vessel as the Sobek glided alongside. There were dark streaks around the scuppers which faded away as they approached the waterline. Blood, he realised. A moment later he saw the first of the bodies, a man slumped over the side rail. Then more corpses scattered across the steering deck.

‘Make ready the corvus!’ Diodorus bellowed and there was a grating creak as the gangway swung out, round and over the side of the cargo ship.

‘Release!’

The gangway dropped, the iron point curving down, gathering speed, and then it slammed into the deck with a splintering crack.

‘Forward marines!’ Diodorus cried out, raising his sword as he climbed on to the gangway and raced across towards the other ship. His men ran after him, coarse, leather-soled boots pounding the boards of the gangway. In moments the marines were across and warily fanning out across the deck of the cargo ship.

Cato climbed down from the turret and called out to Proculus. ‘You and your men wait here. If I call for you, come at once.’

‘Yes, sir.’

There was no sound of fighting, no shouts or cries of alarm from the cargo ship, and Cato left his sword in its scabbard as he strode across the gangway, briefly glancing down at the water washing between the two hulls. Despite being aboard for the best part of two months, he still feared and hated the sea; another good reason to pray that his current quest came to a successful conclusion as soon as possible. When he reached the far end of the gangway, Cato jumped down and looked round slowly. There were bodies strewn across the deck and dark patches of dried blood. The cargo hatches had been dragged aside and the freight below was a jumbled mess of goods: shattered amphorae, discarded bales of cloth and split sacks of rice and spices. Diodorus was squatting beside one of the bodies and Cato joined him.

‘There’s little sign of corruption.’ The decurion sniffed and then touched his fingers to the blood on the deck beside the corpse. ‘Still tacky. They were killed only a day or so ago. Certainly no more than two days.’

‘If this is the work of Ajax, then we’re closer to him than I thought,’ Cato mused, rising up.

‘Maybe, sir. But equally it could be the work of pirates.’

‘Really? Then why take so little, if anything, from the hold? There’s a fortune in spices down there. That doesn’t make any sense if the ship was taken by pirates.’

‘Sir!’ a voice cried out. ‘This one’s alive!’