‘That is what I told them.’ Hairan shrugged. ‘They told me to go and fuck myself; they wanted some fresh meat.’

‘Animals are the miscarriage of evil daemons. It is very dangerous to eat them.’ Iudex was sitting cross-legged, drawing in his notebook. The object of his study was something shiny on the ground in front of him.

There was nothing Valens could do but wait. Searching for them doubled the risk of being spotted.

‘Vegetables are much better,’ Iudex continued. ‘Aroused by the beauty of the sun, the daemons ejaculated on the ground. From their seed grew all plants. Violets and roses are particularly rich in light.’

‘What is that you are drawing?’

Clemens picked up the small sheet of bronze, which was shaped like part of a man’s calf muscle.

‘Where did you find it?’

‘By the spring. I have cleaned and polished it.’

It was from a greave: a piece of armour designed to snap over the lower leg, and be held in place by its own elasticity. It was broken, and time had thinned it and made it brittle.

‘Greek, by the look of it,’ Iudex said. ‘Very ancient.’

‘He was a long way from home.’

‘Or it came here by trade, or as plunder.’

Iudex went back to his drawing. Valens looked over his shoulder. The picture was perfect, capturing every detail of the griffins exquisitely chased into the rim of the metal.

Holding up the notebook, Iudex grunted with satisfaction. Then he tore out the page, and ripped it into tiny pieces. With his huge, powerful hands he snapped the artefact into small fragments and carefully ground it to powder under his boot. Finally he scooped a hole in the thin topsoil, and buried the detritus.

‘Why?’

Iudex looked up contentedly. ‘Once it is known to me, it is known to the Demiurge. And once the Demiurge has taken cognisance of a thing, its corporal existence is no longer necessary. It is the same with some men.’

Chapter 26

CHAPTER 26

Rome

IT WAS A COLD, MOONLESS NIGHT. Volusianus was huddled in a thick, hooded cloak, but he felt the cold. A chill breeze moved through the trees and shrubs of the Gardens of Lucullus. It was past midnight, and ahead the villa of Acilius Glabrio was silent.

Volusianus shifted in the darkness under the boughs of the ornamental cypress tree. Murena was next to him, but the rest of his men were hidden in the gloom. Volusianus did not need to see the soldiers, he knew they were there. There was nothing to do but wait for the signal.