‘Bollocks to that,’ Macro growled. ‘Any son of Narcissus is no comrade of mine.’
‘You’re breaking my heart, Centurion.’
‘Enough of this!’ Cato snapped. ‘Just explain what you are doing here. I don’t suppose for a moment that you’ve come to investigate minor outbreaks of counterfeiting on the outer reaches of the empire.’
Septimus’s mask of hurt pride disappeared. ‘Very well, let’s dispense with the pleasantries.’
‘Let’s!’ Macro said brusquely.
‘I’ve been sent here by my father.’
Macro held his head in his hands. ‘Tell me it isn’t true. Tell me that oily bastard doesn’t want to get us involved in some wretched scheme of his.’
‘Why did he send you?’ Cato demanded. ‘What does he want this time?’
Septimus looked offended. ‘Narcissus has sent me to warn you of a threat to both your lives. You are in grave danger.’
‘Really?’ Macro raised his hands. ‘Did you hear that, Cato? We’re in danger. Here, in the heart of enemy territory, on the eve of a battle. In danger. Who’d have believed it?’ He turned back towards Septimus. ‘It is the imperial intelligence service you both work for, isn’t it? Seems to me like you lot need to find yourselves a new title.’
‘Ha. . ha. .’ Septimus responded flatly. ‘Much as I enjoy the sophisticated repartee of you soldiers, the hour is late and time is short. It would be best to discuss the matter at hand.’
Cato nodded, and crossed the tent to close the leather flaps and then did the same for the entrance to his personal tent. There was another entrance that Thraxis could use when he returned with the wood to build a fire in the brazier.
‘Speak, then.’
Septimus settled on to a spare bench and collected his thoughts. ‘Four months ago we took one of Pallas’s agents off the street. We’d been following him for several days and noting that he had been to see a number of interesting characters in the city. Narcissus thought it was time to bring him in so we could have a quiet word.’
Cato did not have to imagine too hard the full meaning behind the euphemism and felt a chill in his spine as Septimus continued.
‘In the course of our conversation with this man, Musa was his name-’
‘Was?’ Macro arched an eyebrow.
Septimus shot him a look. ‘He is no longer relevant. Anyway, Musa revealed that Pallas had despatched an agent to Britannia to find and kill you two. As soon as Narcissus heard that he sent me here to warn you.’
‘We’re touched,’ said Macro. ‘How considerate of him.’
Cato stroked his chin and then shook his head. ‘Four months ago, you said. Then it has taken you quite a time to reach us to pass on the warning.’
‘It was a long journey. There were storms holding the ships back at Gesoriacum. It took me a while to track you down once I landed in Britannia.’ Septimus shrugged. ‘What can I say?’
Cato smiled slightly. ‘The truth would be nice.’
‘The truth is rarely nice. Trust me, I know.’
‘Trust?’ Cato shook his head. ‘That’s worth more than gold in this world, Septimus. It has to be earned. And Macro and I have done more than enough to earn it. So speak plainly. Why did it take so long for you to tell us about this threat?’
Septimus stared back, then took a deep breath before he spoke. ‘Narcissus believes that Pallas’s agents are here, and that they’re plotting to undermine the establishment of a province in Britannia. I was to try and uncover the full extent of Pallas’s plans. As well as passing on my father’s warning to you.’
‘That’s more like it.’ Macro patted Septimus on the back. ‘See? Speaking the truth doesn’t hurt.’
‘Try telling that to Musa,’ said Cato. ‘Not that there’s any chance of that now. Right?’
Septimus pursed his lips and gave a shrug.
‘So what have you discovered?’ Cato demanded.
‘Precious little, actually. I don’t know who the other side’s agents are, nor how many of them are here. I do know that one of them arrived in Britannia recently. The one who has been sent to deal with you and Macro. I haven’t yet discovered his identity. Meanwhile, be on your guard. The moment I discover who he is I will let you know, and you can deal with him.’
‘Deal with him. .’ Cato repeated slowly. ‘I see. This is the real purpose of your contacting us. Not to warn us, but to enlist our help. Narcissus wants this agent taken out of your little game and we’re supposed to help you. Is that it?’
Septimus smiled. ‘It wouldn’t hurt for you to assist my father, even if only to save your own necks.’
Macro let out a deep sigh of frustration and anger. ‘Let’s throw this little snake out of here, Cato. We’re done with Narcissus. We’re back in the army now. All this bollocks about agents and threats is nothing to us. That’s over.’
Cato shared the sentiment but as he scrutinised their visitor he grasped the essential reality of their situation and responded to his friend through gritted teeth. ‘I would that it were so, Macro. With all my heart. But there’s no escaping the consequences of what plays out back in Rome. It’ll never be over for us. Not until Pallas or Narcissus falls from grace. And when that happens you can be sure that anyone even remotely connected with the loser is going to pay a heavy price. Isn’t that right, Septimus?’
‘I fear so, Prefect. That is why it is important to be on the winning side in the conflict between Pallas and my father.’
Cato narrowed his eyes shrewdly. ‘And is your side winning at the moment?’
‘My side?’ Septimus looked surprised. ‘You mean our side?’
‘I mean what I say.’
‘Prefect, whether you two like it or not, your fate is tied to that of my father, just as mine is. If Pallas wins the day, then we are all dead men. You may not even last that long. For whatever reason he may have, Pallas is especially keen to remove you now. My father thinks you know something that may endanger him. Any idea what that might be?’
Macro knew all too well. He had witnessed Pallas locked in a coital embrace with the Emperor’s wife, Agrippina. If that was ever revealed then Claudius would be sure to have the imperial freedman executed. To be swiftly followed by the execution of Agrippina, or exile if she was lucky. Her son, Nero, the adopted heir of the Emperor, would also suffer, leaving the path open for Britannicus. But it was a dangerous secret to reveal. If Pallas and Agrippina bluffed their way out of the situation, a task made somewhat easier by the failing mind of the old Emperor, then their accusers would face the full wrath of Claudius instead.
‘No,’ Cato answered for them both. ‘We don’t know. We can’t help you.’
‘A pity. But it changes nothing. Pallas still wants you dead.’
‘We can look after ourselves.’
‘I’m sure you can. To a degree. But you are used to dangers that are out in the open. You will not see this one coming. Not until it is too late. Trust no one.’
Macro sniffed. ‘Except you, and your father, of course.’
‘Your enemy’s enemy is your friend, Macro. You might not like it, but that’s how it is. Our interests coincide. Narcissus needs whatever help you can give him. In return he does what he can to protect you.’
‘That’s the kind of protection I need like a sword in the guts.’
‘As you will.’ Septimus opened his hands in a brief gesture of helplessness. ‘But if you won’t help him for your own sakes, then do it out of a sense of duty to Rome.’
‘Duty to Rome? You think Narcissus selflessly serves the interests of Rome?’ Macro shook his head and gave a dry laugh. ‘He’s looking after himself, no matter how many of us he buries along the way.’
For the first time Septimus’s composure appeared to slip. He rounded angrily on the centurion and stabbed his finger at him. ‘My father has given his life to serving Rome! The emperors come and go but he has remained constant. He serves the empire and does all he can to protect it from enemies without and within.’