‘If that’s all, Centurion?’ Vespasian asked, and Macro nodded. ‘Then you had better go and prepare your men. We shan’t speak again until you return to the legion with the chest.’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Good luck. And goodbye.’

Once Macro was out of the tent he carefully folded the map and tucked it inside his harness, more than a little uneasy about the tone of finality with which he had been dismissed by the legate. But the mission was now in motion and there was no turning back.

===OO=OOO=OO===

The transport’s captain shouted to the crew to let go the sheets and the remaining sail was gathered in. The vessel had just enough way on her to glide forward and a slight tremor could be felt through the deck as she grounded a short distance from the beach.

From the stern the captain cupped his hands and shouted. ‘Landing ramp out!’

The legionaries gave way as the crewmen lifted a long, hinged ramp and ran it forward, well beyond its fulcrum, until the end was only a few feet from the shore. A seaman gave the signal and the ramp was allowed to fall with a messy splash into the sea. The rear of the ramp was then pegged into place with two iron rods driven through the ramp into sockets on the deck.

‘There you are!’ The captain clapped Macro on the shoulder. ‘Safely delivered across the ocean by yours truly. Hope you enjoyed the voyage.’

‘It was all right,’ Macro replied without enthusiasm. Like most soldiers, he thought that land was the proper place for men, and the sea was for fish and any idiots who cared to traverse it. ‘But thanks.’

‘My pleasure. Just make sure you give the natives a good kicking.’

‘We’ll do our best.’

‘Now I’d be grateful if you’d get your men off my ship. We’re returning to Gaul straight away. Some horses to bring over for a Syrian cohort tonight.’

‘Tonight?’ Macro was surprised. ‘I thought you sailors never went to sea at night if you could help it.’

‘Normally, no.’ The captain smiled affably. ‘But we’re being paid by the trip and there’s money to be made. So, if you wouldn’t mind?’

Macro faced forward towards the expectant eyes of his men. ‘Okay, lads, off you get. Make sure you don’t leave anything on board or you won’t see it again.’

In single file the legionaries picked their way down the boarding ramp and, lifting their equipment clear of the sea, they jumped into the waist-deep water and surged on to the beach. By the time Macro and Cato had reached the line of shingle along the high-water mark, the ramp was already being stowed as a team of seamen strained on a long thick pole to push the transport free.

‘What’s the hurry?’ Cato nodded at the ship.

‘Money.’

‘What men won’t do for it!’ Cato laughed. ‘You’d think there was nothing more important in this world.’

‘There isn’t.’