The bell rang again, more loudly this time, and the orderly slowed his pace as he walked down the corridor towards the better-ventilated end rooms reserved for officers.

‘Get a bloody move on, man!’ Macro bellowed. ‘I’ve been waving this fucking bell about for ages!’

‘So sorry to keep you waiting, sir,’ the orderly apologised. ‘But I’m afraid one of the other patients was dying and I wanted to make sure his effects went to the right friends before he popped off.’

‘And will they get them?’

‘The lads and I will do our best to see that the leftovers are sent on.’

‘After you’ve had your pickings.’

‘Of course, sir.’

‘Bloody vultures.’

‘Vultures?’ The orderly frowned. ‘Just a perk of the job, sir. Now what is it you wanted?’

‘Get rid of this.’ Macro shoved a bedpan at him. ‘And make the fire up. It’s freezing in here.’

‘Yes, sir.’ The orderly nodded as he carefully carried the bedpan over to a low table and set it down. ‘Nice day out, sir. Clear blue sky and still air.’

‘Oh, is it? Thanks for letting me know. But it’s still freezing in here.’

‘Not freezing, sir. Just well ventilated. It’s good for you.’

‘How can it be good? If the wound doesn’t get me, the cold will.’

The orderly smiled at that comforting thought as he placed more fuel on the glowing embers in the brazier and blew gently on them to encourage some flames.

‘Right, that’s fine. Now take the bedpan and piss off.’

‘Yes, sir.’ The orderly collected the chamber pot and, holding it carefully, made for the door to the corridor. Without any warning, Cato strode into the room and the orderly nimbly stepped to one side without spilling a drop. He tutted at the optio as Cato closed the door behind him.

The optio stood over the bed and smiled down. ‘It’s good to see you, sir.’

‘For the first time in three days.’

‘It’s been busy without you, sir. I’ve been trying to keep the century in good order while you recover. How’s the leg?’

‘Stiff, and it hurts like buggery whenever I try to move it. But the quacks seem to think I’m well on the mend.’

‘You look better than the last time I saw you.’

‘That was nothing, just some minor infection. The surgeon reckons it’s almost gone.’

‘When will you be back on duty, sir?’

The non sequitur and the anxiety behind it were not lost on the centurion. He regarded Cato silently while the wood in the brazier hissed softly.

‘I’d have thought a young optio might be enjoying the opportunity of having his first command.’

‘I am, sir.’

‘But…’ Macro coaxed.

‘I had no idea how much there was to do. There’s the drilling to organise, barracks inspections, equipment checks, and then there’s all the paperwork.’

‘You should leave that to Piso. I do.’

‘Yes, he’s been very helpful, sir. He insisted on handling it. But we’ve just had orders to conduct a full inventory of equipment and non-portable personal items. And, to make matters worse, headquarters has ordered all money above ten sestertii to be banked by the end of the week. Is it always as hectic as this, sir?’ Cato asked helplessly.