Cato glanced over the side at the oars, sweeping forward and driving through the water, and up and forward again in a swift rhythm. He climbed down on to the deck and turned to face the legionaries clustered on the main deck. ‘Listen here!’ He waited a moment until they were still and he had their full attention. ‘I want fifty men to pursue the enemy making off into the mangrove.’ Cato pointed towards the enemy ship. ‘You men were with me on Crete. You know what Ajax and his followers have done. You saw the atrocities with your own eyes. We have to capture or kill him and put an end to his foul work.’ He turned to their commander, Centurion Rufus. ‘I only want volunteers. Don’t pick any wounded men. I don’t doubt your men’s courage, but it’ll be hard going and open wounds will soon fester in those marshes. Those who’ll follow me need to leave their armour behind. They’re to take only shields and helmets, together with their swords. And rations and water for three days.’ He gazed at them for an instant and then nodded. ‘That’s it. Those who are coming with me, be ready to march as soon as we reach the far side of the bay. Dismissed!’

He turned away and strode forward to the bows to watch as the warships closed up on the burning vessel stuck hard and fast into the twisted roots and silt of the mangrove. The trierarch looked over the side and gave the order to reduce speed, and then backwater, to kill the momentum of the ship as it drew close to the shore. The other warships had also slowed and gave way to the Sobek as she edged towards the mangrove, a short distance from the abandoned vessel. The air was filled with the crackle of flames and the sharp reports of bursting timbers. The fire was burning more fiercely than ever and Cato realised that Ajax must have given orders to feed the flames before he and his men had quit the ship.

‘Phermon!’ Cato had to shout to be heard over the noise of the blaze. ‘Get some men over to that ship. See if they can put the fire out.’

‘Aye, sir.’

There was the faintest of shudders beneath Cato’s boots as the ship ran aground. At once the marines on the foredeck lowered a gangplank into the shallows, muddied by the impact of the ram.

‘Here,’ Cato called to the nearest of the legionaries. ‘Give me a hand with the cuirass.’