‘War hero? You?’ he growled. ‘Un-fucking-likely. Who’d you have to be buggered by to get the commendation?’

Cato did not answer, did not even look up from his digging.

‘Hey, I’m talking to you!’

Cato ignored him.

‘What’s this? No manners? And I thought you were so well brought up. I suppose you’re too good to speak to the likes of us.’ He laughed to the recruit on his other side. ‘Seems the war hero’s got ideas above his station.’

‘Quiet there!’ an instructor called out. ‘Silence when you work.’

Pulcher fell back to work with exaggerated effort until he was sure that he was no longer being paid any attention. Then he flicked a shovel full of soil at Cato’s face.

‘You fucking ignore me again, boy and I’ll…’

‘You’ll what?’ Cato turned angrily, with his pick half raised. ‘You tell me what you’ll do! C’mon, you bastard!’

Pulcher’s hands tightened on his shovel, but some sixth sense warned him to turn back to his ditch just as Bestia strode up to them.

‘What’s this? Taking a break without orders are we, war hero?’

‘No, sir.’

‘And why are you covered in dirt, boy?’

‘Sir, I…’

‘Answer my fucking question!’

‘I slipped, sir. While I was tossing the soil up into the camp.’

‘You tired then, boy?’ Bestia asked with an expression of feigned concern.

‘Yes, sir, but I…’

‘Well then, it seems you need a bit more fitness training. You’re on latrine fatigues for the next five evenings.’

‘But, sir. I’m to attend the legate’s party after the investiture.’

‘You’ll have to shovel shit twice as quick then if you’re going to be there on time.’ Bestia smiled sweetly. ‘And do make sure you’re smartly turned out, or Vespasian’ll have you on a charge.’

Bestia laughed as he allowed himself to imagine the scene. Then with a hearty clap on Cato’s shoulder he wandered back down the line.

‘And fuck you, sir,’ Cato swore softly at the man’s back and then started in horror as the centurion whipped round and pointed a finger at him accusingly.

‘Did you say something?’ Did you?’

‘Just “thank you”, sir.’

‘You being sarky to me, son?’

‘No, sir,’ Cato replied, deadpan. ‘I’m just grateful that you are offering me an opportunity to improve myself so I can be a legionary you can be proud of, sir.’

Bestia glared at him a moment then whirled round abruptly and strode away, leaving Cato to his digging. Next to him, Pulcher’s shoulders rocked with silent laughter.

‘I’ll remember this,’ Cato said quietly.

‘Oooh, I’m so scared of you! I’m just pissing my pants,’ Pulcher whispered.

Cato stared at him a moment, no longer as terrified of the man as he used to be, only worn down by the anxiety of looking out for Pulcher, wondering when and how the bastard would next find a way to get at him. With an angry sigh he swung the pick back into the ground as hard as possible, then grunted with effort to dislodge the clump of earth. Something had to be done about Pulcher, and soon.