Macro shook his head. ‘This is too far-fetched, Cato. If there is a traitor out there, it isn’t Hamedes. I know the lad well enough. He’s been straight with us. Why, he’s faced every danger we have. These other things you mention are just coincidences.’

‘Like the cobra in our tent? Ever wondered where that came from? Did you notice that Hamedes had a large kitbag when he boarded the barge in Cairo? It was a lot smaller when he disembarked. Then there were the fragments of a broken jar close to the tent. I wonder what the jar had contained, and where it came from? Just more coincidences? Tell me, have you never had any grounds to doubt him?’

Macro thought back over the time he had known the young priest. He recalled the raid on Ajax’s base and the fire in the lookout tower that had given away their presence to the rebels. Hamedes could have lit the fire easily enough while the rest of them were preoccupied. The seeds of suspicion that Cato had planted were readily watered by Macro’s recollection of that event.

There was a knock on the door frame and an optio stepped into the room.

Cato looked up at him. ‘Yes?’

‘I’ve brought the priest to you, sir. As ordered.’

Cato glanced at Macro. ‘Let’s see what Hamedes has to say for himself. Send him in, and stay with us.’

‘Yes, sir.’ The optio beckoned round the door frame. ‘All right, gypo, this way. Smartly now!’

Hamedes entered the room, wearing a tunic. He looked dazed, as if he had just been woken. He smiled as he saw Macro and Cato. ‘How can I help you, sirs?’

Cato stared at him without any expression and sat back in his chair. ‘You can tell me what your real name is, for a start.’

Hamedes’ smile faded. ‘Sorry? What did you say, sir?’

‘You heard me. I want to know your real name.’

Hamedes opened his mouth, closed it and looked helplessly at Macro. ‘I don’t understand.’

Cato puffed irritably. ‘Let’s try another tack. How long have you known Ajax? Did you join his rebellion in Crete, or did he recruit you from amongst the slaves of the ships he has raided since then?’

Hamedes swallowed anxiously. ‘Sir, I am a humble priest. I have every reason to hate Ajax as much as you do. He butchered my brother priests and looted our sacred temple. I am Hamedes. You have to believe me, sir . . . please. I swear to you, on all that I hold holy, I am no spy. Believe me.’