‘Are you quite sure about this, Centurion? Do you really wish to prefer charges against the tribune here?’

‘Yes, sir!’

‘What you say will sound quite incredible in a court of law. You know that, don’t you?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Very well then. Very well. I will give your statements the fullest consideration and let you know my decision at the earliest convenience. You two are dismissed.’

‘Sir?’

‘What is it, optio?’

The young optio paused to consider his next words carefully. ‘I still don’t quite understand why we were listed as deserters, sir.’

‘The charges have been dropped,’ Vespasian said curtly. ‘No harm done.’

‘Yes, sir, but why were the charges made in the first place? Who—’

‘A mistake, Optio. Leave it at that. Now you’re dismissed.’

As Macro and Cato made for the tent flap, Vespasian called after them. ‘One last thing. You have my thanks for alerting the rearguard. I doubt we’d have lasted long enough for the Fourteenth to rescue us, if Plinius hadn’t been able to hold that end of the column. Now, make sure you get some rest. Wait outside and I’ll have my orderly fix you and your men some hot food.’

‘Thank you, sir,’ Macro replied.

Alone in the tent with Vitellius, the legate considered his next interview carefully. Already the established version of events had Vitellius down as the hero who had single-handedly found Togodumnus’s column. Unable to fight his way back to warn the Second Legion, he had caught up with the Fourteenth causing them to turn and intervene, just in time to save the Second Legion from annihilation. Consequently the tribune had won fulsome praise from nearly all quarters for his gallant action. Yet the two men who had left talked of treachery and betrayal.

‘I take it you will not be pursuing their wild claims any further, sir?’

‘It’s quite a story. Wouldn’t you agree?’

‘Yes, but still a story. And, like all the best stories, there isn’t a shred of truth in it.’

‘But if the rest of their patrol says the same then you’re in a bit of a fix.’

‘Not at all,’ Vitellius protested smoothly. ‘It’s my word against theirs. The word of the son of a consul against a bunch of squaddies. Who do you think a court will believe, especially after I’ve risked my life to save the Legion from certain defeat? At best it’ll look like sour grapes. At worst, it will look like a political prosecution and that’s hardly likely to go down well with the plebes in Rome — they’re rather partial to heroes, I understand. I’d let it go if I were you.’

Vespasian smiled. ‘Even heroes still have to call their superiors “sir”,’ he said quietly.

‘My apologies — sir.’

‘Let’s, for the moment, agree that the centurion spoke the truth. How did you find out about the chest?’

Vitellius did not reply immediately as he sized up the legate. ‘You know, I could deny all knowledge of the chest. I was, after all, acting on your orders to scout for sign of Togodumnus. I could say I just happened to be in the marsh at the same time as your little team. A thick mist, a case of mistaken identity… all perfectly understandable.’