‘Oh. Did anyone say what was stolen?’

‘Nothing of value, apparently. But the poor sod who discovered the thief won’t live long.’

‘That’s too bad.’ Cato tried to sound concerned while his heart lifted slightly at the news, and then, as his cursed imagination summoned up an image of the blameless sentry lying bandaged and scarcely alive, he felt ashamed and guilty.

‘Don’t take it too badly, son.’ Piso laid a hand on his shoulder. ‘It happens. Just your good fortune it wasn’t you.’

===OO=OOO=OO===

The tribune rested his chin on the palms of his hand and stared across to where Pulcher sat on a folding stool nursing his leg. The upper thigh had been punctured to a finger’s depth and had bled profusely until he had got far enough away from the tent to apply pressure on the wound. Pulcher had limped back to the tribune’s quarters, where he now sat applying a fresh bandage to the area. Luckily, the wound was high enough that the bandage would be concealed under his breeches and no-one need know that he had been injured. But the day’s march would be agony, the tribune reflected with a smile. That would encourage the man not to cock it up next time — if there was a next time. Vespasian had issued orders to double the guard from now on and access to the command tent would be almost impossible. The man opposite did not yet know that another attempt would be required.

‘I expect you’ll be looking forward to returning to Rome,’ the tribune asked as he poured the man a cup of wine.

‘Too right!’ Pulcher grunted. ‘I’ve had enough of this undercover nonsense. I want to get back to soldiering.’

‘I hardly think the Praetorian Guard counts as soldiering,’ said the tribune mildly.

‘It’s the kind of soldiering I like.’

‘But you did volunteer for this.’

‘True. But for the sum of money we arranged anyone would volunteer.’

‘But not everyone has your unique talent for ensuring things happen, encouraging loquacity in the tongue-tied, making people disappear — that sort of thing. Speaking of which, are you sure you can’t put a face to the man you saw in the tent, the one who managed to pigstick you so efficiently?’

‘No.’ The reply was laced with anger. ‘But when I do find out who it was, they’ll suffer before I let them die. That’s something I’ll take care of for no extra fee.’

‘Well, be sure that you do find him. If he knows who you are, he might manage to make you implicate me.’

‘There’s no chance of that.’

‘Don’t ever underestimate the power of effectively applied torture to loosen tongues,’ the tribune warned him. The other merely sniffed with derision before the tribune continued, ‘Now, I’m afraid I’ve got some bad news for you.’

‘Eh?’

‘You’ve not done your job.’

‘What do you mean?’ Pulcher jabbed a finger at the scroll. ‘That’s what you wanted, and that’s what you’ve fucking got.’