While Vitellius went to report back to Narcissus, the bound men were rolled off the back of the wagon and dragged into a rough line. They knelt fearfully eyeing Pulcher as he slowly walked up and down, a dreadful smile fixed on his scarred face. Once the line was complete he casually drew his dagger.

‘Right then, traitors, you’ve had your fun. Now it’s my turn. I need names. I need to know who gives you your orders from Rome. Now, while I appreciate that most of you will not be in the know over this, frankly I don’t care. If I get names — you live, if I don’t — you die. That’s all there is to it.’

Pulcher approached a grey-haired veteran at the end of the line.

‘You’re first. Names?’

The man pursed his lips and spat on Pulcher’s feet. Without the slightest hesitation Pulcher grabbed a fistful of hair and yanked the man’s head back. The dagger flashed across his throat and a sheet of crimson splashed on to the forest floor. Pulcher let go and the man collapsed, writhed a moment, and then was still.

‘Okay, who’s next?’

Shortly after dawn, Pulcher returned to the camp of the Second Legion to find Tribune Vitellius. He presented a list of names scratched on to a waxed tablet. Grim-faced, Vitellius ran his finger down the list — there were few surprises — until his finger stopped abruptly.

‘Are you sure about this last one?’ he asked sharply.

‘That’s what the man said.’

‘That explains how the opposition got to know about Narcissus’s visit so speedily. Who gave you this name?’

‘Aurelius, senior tribune of the Ninth. He’s well connected in Rome.’

‘I know that, thank you,’ Vitellius replied testily. ‘I don’t suppose there’s any chance of having a word with Tribune Aurelius?’

Pulcher shook his head. ‘You said they were to disappear. I’ve been my usual thorough self, I’m afraid.’

‘That’s a pity. I would have liked to confirm this name myself. But we’ll just have to accept that Aurelius’s information is accurate.’

‘Should we tell Narcissus?’

‘No, I don’t think so. Not just yet at any rate.’

‘Right. I’d better get back to the woods then. Need to arrange a bit of digging.’

===OO=OOO=OO===

As the mid-morning sun shed its warm glow on the sentries at the main gates of the camp, a wagon emerged from the treeline of the immense forest that stretched inland from the coast. It was escorted by a party of grim-faced centurions, with Pulcher whistling contentedly in the driver’s seat. As the wagon passed into the base the sentries saw that it carried just a few picks and shovels — and a dark stain smeared across its wooden boards.

Under The Eagle

Chapter Thirty-three

The late afternoon sun slanted across the deck, sliced by the shadows of the mast and rigging of the army transport. In the bows, a sailor was casting a weighted line out ahead of the vessel and reading off the depth as the line touched bottom. The ship eased its way through the entrance of the channel as the captain ordered two more reefs to be put in the sail. While the sailors climbed aloft and spread out along the yardarm, Cato gingerly made his way forward to the base of the stubby bowsprit.