‘So make it easy on yourself, sir,’ Cato said with a grin. ‘And tell us why you’re going to Gesoriacum. It can’t be to oversee the invasion — all the plans for that must have been made months ago. Something’s gone wrong, hasn’t it?’

Narcissus looked at him, carefully weighing his thoughts. ‘Yes. I can’t say too much. I won’t. But everything is at stake. I have to reach Gesoriacum — alive. I have certain information for General Plautius. If anything happens to me, I doubt that there will be an invasion, and if there’s no invasion then there might be no Emperor in short order.’ Narcissus saw the incredulity that his words produced, and he leaned closer to the others, half his face thrown into flickering shadow. ‘The Empire is in great danger, greater than it has ever been. Even now there are still some fools in the Senate who think they’re capable of running the Empire. They never cease trying to undermine the Emperor — that’s why I have to get to Gesoriacum. There are some who say Claudius is a cruel simpleton.’ He smiled sadly. ‘I’m sorry if it surprises you to hear me say that. And it might even be true. But he’s the only Emperor we have and the Julio-Claudian dynasty may well end with him.’

‘I’ve heard some people argue that it might be as well if it did,’ Cato said.

‘And then what?’ Narcissus asked bitterly. ‘A return to the Republic? How would that benefit us? Back to the old factions fighting it out in the Senate with words, and then letting it spill out on to the streets with violence, until the whole of the civilised world is torn apart by civil war. To read the pious nonsense republican historians write you’d think that the days of Sulla, Julius Caesar, Mark Antony and their breed marked some kind of golden age. Well, let me tell you, those “heroes” marched into history over the bodies of three generations of Roman citizens. We need the Emperors, we need the stability of one authority dominating the state. We Romans are no longer capable of anything else.’

‘We Romans?’

‘All right, we freedmen and the Romans,’ conceded Narcissus. ‘I admit that my fate is bound up with the Emperor’s. Without his patronage, some senator or other would rouse the mob and I’d be torn apart in a matter of days. My destruction would just be the start. Even you people out here on the frontier would suffer the consequences.’

‘Makes no difference to me who is in power,’ said Macro. ‘I’m just a soldier. There will always be an army and that’s all that matters.’

‘Maybe. But what kind of an army? If Claudius falls you’ll still get your war — but it’ll be fought against Romans. You may even be called upon to fight men you now regard as friends. Maybe even each other. Think about it. And then give thanks for the Emperor.’

Cato looked across at his centurion, whose eyes glinted in the light of the fire. The optio smiled unsteadily as he turned back to Narcissus.