‘It wasn’t easy writing on my lap, you know,’ explained Macro. ‘Bloody thing kept sliding all over the place.’

‘So I see. Well, it’s a good start. Have you managed to remember what each one sounds like?’

‘Of course.’

‘Then would you mind going through them with me, sir? Just for practice. Then we’ll try a few words.’

Macro ground his teeth. ‘Don’t you think I can do it?’

‘I’m sure you can, sir. But practice makes perfect, as you keep telling me. Shall we?’

As Macro stumbled through the alphabet, Cato kept his comments to a minimum and all the while images of Lavinia trickled into his mind’s eye, to be expelled with considerable reluctance. In the end, even Macro could see that the young man’s attention was not fully engaged with the task at hand. Abruptly he snapped the tablets shut so that Cato nearly fell off his stool.

‘What’s on your mind, boy?’

‘Sir?’

‘Even I know I got some of those words wrong — and you’re just sitting there nodding like a chicken. What’s so bloody important that you can’t concentrate on this?’

‘Sir, it’s nothing. Just a personal matter. It won’t happen again. Shall we continue?’

‘Not if your problem’s going to get in the way.’

The lesson had become boring and Macro was not keen to continue. Moreover, the boy’s evident reluctance to explain the cause of his distraction had provoked Macro’s curiosity.

‘Spit it out, lad!’

‘Really, sir,’ protested Cato. ‘It’s not important.’

‘I’ll be the judge of that. Speak. That’s an order. I’m not having my men walk around like daydreamers. You youngsters spend all your time worrying about bullying and women. So which is it? Who’s been having a go at you?’

‘No-one, sir.’

‘Narrows things down a bit then, doesn’t it?’ Macro winked salaciously. ‘So who’s the woman then? It better not be the legate’s wife. Might as well write out a suicide note right now’

‘No, sir! Not her,’ Cato said, with a look of horror.

‘Then who?’ Macro demanded.

‘A slave girl.’

‘You want to get her in the sack, I take it?’

Cato stared at him for a moment and then nodded.

‘So what’s the problem? Offer her a few goodies and you’re in. I’ve never known a slave woman who wasn’t prepared to part her legs for the right gifts. What’s she like?’

‘Quite beautiful,’ Cato replied softly.

‘No, you idiot! I meant what does she like?’

‘Oh, I see.’ Cato blushed. ‘I don’t really know that much about her.’

‘Well, find out. Ask her what she wants in exchange and you’re away.’

‘It isn’t like that, sir. I feel something more than just lust.’

‘Lust? Who’s talking about lust? You want to screw her, right? So that’s your objective. All you need now is deployment of the appropriate tactics to manoeuvre her into an advantageous position and then secure your conquest. Then it’s just a question of mopping up.’

‘Sir!’ Cato, who thought he had become inured to the crude humour of the army, was caught off guard and blushed. ‘It’s not like that.’