Cato took a deep breath and looked round at his officers, seeing some spark of determination in their expressions. That was good, he reflected. Some of his words had struck home. He had done what he could to instil the right state of mind in his officers and stiffen their resolve in the face of the great test to come. ‘The army marches from Karnak at first light tomorrow. You have the rest of the day to prepare your men, equipment and supplies. Dismissed!’

The officers stood up and began to make their way out of the courtyard, many of them conversing in low voices. Macro stood still until the last of them had left and then let his shoulders droop a little as he exhaled in a long, weary sigh.

‘What do you think?’ asked Cato.

‘Oh, you were on fine form, lad. I have to say that I’ve heard the victory or death routine more than once before. So have you. It’s an old line but, so help me, it still stirs the blood.’

‘Hmmm. I meant what do you think about our officers?’

Macro jerked his thumb towards the entrance to the courtyard. ‘That lot? Not the best I’ve ever come across, and possibly not the worst.’

‘That doesn’t sound very encouraging.’

‘Oh, they’ll fight when the time comes.’ Macro shrugged nonchalantly. ‘After all, what choice have they got?’

‘None, as it happens. I had the report from one of the patrols just before the briefing began. The Nubian army is still camped a day’s march to the south. It has been for the last two days. It seems that Prince Talmis is challenging us to come out and face him.’

‘Or we could wait for him here and hold him off.’

‘No. If we do that, he’ll surround us, bide his time and starve us into surrender. Either way, he has the advantage.’

Macro looked at his younger friend and could see the exhaustion marked in his face, and the bloodshot eyes. Cato had removed the sling before the officers had arrived and now supported his left arm with his spare hand. Macro felt a stab of paternal concern for Cato. ‘Look here, there’s nothing to be done now. The officers will make the preparations and I’ll keep watch over them to make sure they do a good job. You should rest. Let that arm recover. We’re going to need you in good shape tomorrow. Can’t afford to have tiredness cloud your thinking. Not with all our lives at stake.’

Cato stared at him and smiled. ‘Thank you. If there’s time, I’ll rest. But first I have to think about how we’re going to win this campaign. Fine words are one thing, but they never won a battle. And after that business with Hamedes I can understand why they might question my judgement.’