‘Did the commander order this?’ asked Ishkan.

‘Naturally,’ blustered Vahram.

‘And he said to kill the haruspex?’

‘If necessary, yes,’ growled the primus pilus.

Ishkan raised his eyebrows. ‘Where is Pacorus, then?’ He looked around. ‘I would have thought he’d watch.’

‘He’s not well enough to be outside for long,’ said Vahram icily. ‘And I am his deputy.’

‘Of course you are, sir,’ Ishkan answered, suspicion flaring in his eyes. ‘But let’s just check with him, shall we?’

Realising that his ruse would be discovered the instant that Ishkan woke Pacorus, Vahram panicked. Stepping away from Tarquinius’ limp body, he blocked the doorway to the bedchamber.

The dark-haired senior centurion frowned. He lifted a hand and immediately his followers raised their weapons.

Vahram’s trio of men looked to him for directions, but there were at least a dozen warriors with Ishkan, all of whom were armed with bows. Unless they wanted to die, there was nothing to do but see how the standoff panned out. They relaxed, keeping their hands away from their sword hilts.

Outmanoeuvred, the primus pilus scowled and stood to one side.

Leaving his warriors to watch Vahram, Ishkan opened the door. He was not gone long.

Covered by a blanket and supported by the senior centurion, a shivering Pacorus emerged into the light.

Vahram cursed under his breath. Things were getting out of control. He should have just killed the damn haruspex.

Pacorus regarded Tarquinius’ bloodied face and body with a mixture of emotions. He cared little for the haruspex’ health, but valued his abilities. Moreover, he did not like his inferiors acting without his direct authority. Anger finally dominated on the commander’s thin, grey face. ‘What have you to say about this?’ he snapped at Vahram.

The eyes flashed to Tarquinius. Although his word was worth more, Pacorus would be highly suspicious of him if the haruspex mentioned his plans.primus pilus’

Barely aware of the delicate situation, Tarquinius forced out an incoherent moan and let some bloody spit dribble from his lips.

Unsure of himself, Vahram made a snap decision. Hopefully, Tarquinius was in no state to talk. ‘I came in to see how you were, sir. Found the whoreson crouched over the fireplace muttering your name.’

Aware that he had slept through whatever Tarquinius had been doing, Pacorus sucked in a nervous breath. He had first-hand experience of the haruspex’ frightening powers. ‘Has he said why?’

‘No, sir.’ Vahram shook his head angrily. ‘Not a word.’

‘Yet you did not think to check with me?’ responded Pacorus. ‘And tried to prevent another senior centurion from bringing the matter to my attention?’

‘I didn’t want to disturb you,’ Vahram said weakly.

With a dismissive snort, the commander shuffled over. He was followed solicitously by Ishkan.

Tarquinius lifted his head to stare Pacorus in the face. Grey rings of exhaustion had formed under his dark eyes, and his broken nose had swollen beyond all recognition. The burn on his cheek was red raw and oozing clear fluid. Remarkably, in spite of his injuries, there was still an air of mystery about him.

Pacorus flinched at the haruspex’ appearance. This was the man who had saved his life, and he was not ungrateful for that. Yet there was no trust between them. ‘Well?’

Tarquinius jerked his head, indicating Pacorus should come closer.

Ishkan frowned warily but did not intervene. Tied-up, the half-dead haruspex posed no threat. Yet Vahram looked most unhappy.

‘It was his name I was saying,’ whispered Tarquinius. ‘The primus pilus immediately wanted to know why. If I had told him, he would have killed me.’

‘Looks like he was going to do that anyway,’ Pacorus answered drily.

‘Yes, sir,’ gasped the haruspex. ‘And I was just about to break when Ishkan arrived. Do not trust him.’

Pacorus looked back at Vahram, who instantly affected not to be interested. ‘Why not?’

‘He wants to lead the Forgotten Legion.’

The commander stiffened. ‘Have you proof of this?’

Tarquinius was still able to raise his eyebrows.

Pacorus tapped a finger against his teeth, thinking. It was no surprise to him that the primus pilus might want to usurp his position. But it was also an easy way for Tarquinius to sow the seeds of doubt and distrust among his captors.

The drained haruspex read his mind. ‘Where are your men?’ he asked quietly.

Alarm filled Pacorus as he scanned the courtyard, seeing none of his bodyguards. This was the most significant detail so far.

‘Vahram sent them away.’

Pacorus said nothing in response to Tarquinius’ intimation, but the muscles in his jaw bunched. What was the best thing to do? Vahram was a popular figure among the Parthian garrison, and executing him out of hand could prove risky. Obviously Ishkan was loyal, but could he rely on all the other senior centurions? Still not fully recovered, he was just beginning to understand how easily he could have been killed. Concealing his emotions, Pacorus turned to the primus pilus. ‘It was foolish to go this far,’ he barked. ‘He’s useful in his own way.’

‘Sorry, sir.’ Vahram waited to see if there was more.

‘I want you supervising sentry duty for the next three months,’ the commander ordered. ‘Consider yourself lucky not to be demoted.’

Vahram saluted, delighted that his punishment was so light. Tarquinius had revealed nothing and now he could continue to plot against Pacorus.

They were interrupted by the sound of running feet in the avenue outside. A sentry’s challenge rang out, and was answered. Then the front gate creaked open.

Pacorus stared at Ishkan, who shrugged. Vahram looked similarly puzzled.

Above, the storm had abated. Tarquinius could determine nothing of relevance in what he saw. They were all in the dark.

A few moments later, a cloaked legionary emerged into the courtyard, accompanied by one of the Parthian warriors who guarded Pacorus’ quarters. Both saluted and stood to attention.

‘What is it?’ cried Pacorus impatiently.

‘This is one of the sentries from the main gate, sir,’ said the Parthian. ‘Some of Darius’ men have returned.’

A cold sweat broke out on Tarquinius’ forehead. Like him, Romulus and Brennus served in Darius’ cohort. Where had they been?

Confused, the commander turned to Vahram.

‘I sent out a patrol two days ago, sir,’ explained the primus pilus. ‘There had been no word from the fortlet to the east.’

Satisfied, Pacorus indicated that the legionary should speak.

‘Three men have just got back, sir,’ he faltered.

‘Messengers?’

‘No, sir.’ There was a pause. ‘Survivors.’

All the senior officers gasped. Tarquinius managed to stay silent, but his gaze was locked on the sentry.

‘When they got to the fortlet, the garrison had already been massacred, sir. More Scythian raiders, apparently.’

Tarquinius’ mind was suddenly filled with the image he had seen of a barrack-room floor covered in blood. And of the red flashes against the snowy landscape. Scythians always rode red-coloured horses. His misery deepened.

‘They said that Darius sent two riders back with the news,’ the soldier went on.

‘We’ve heard nothing,’ interrupted Vahram.

‘They’ll have been intercepted,’ said Ishkan grimly.

Nervous, the sentry waited.

‘Go on,’ demanded Pacorus.

‘Same lot attacked the patrol, sir. Annihilated it at dawn the next day as it was trying to retreat here.’

‘Leaving three soldiers out of . . .’

‘Two centuries, sir,’ answered Vahram.

‘And Darius? Is he here?’

The sentry shook his head. ‘No, sir.’

Pacorus scowled. Nearly one hundred and sixty men dead, and now Darius. One of his best officers. ‘How many Scythians?’ he asked.