Scrofa's brow furrowed in confusion. 'What do you mean?'

'Come now, don't play us for fools, Scrofa. Longinus is deliberately stirring things up here in the east so that he can call on the reinforcements to strengthen his army. That's why he chose you to command the Second Illyrian. It was your job to stir up the local villagers, turn them into rebels. I have to admit, you've done a fine job. Not only that, but you've managed to earn yourself a tidy fortune in the process, thanks to that protection racket you and Postumus set up. Of course, pissing the Nabataeans off must have been something of a bonus for Longinus.' Macro hardened his tone. 'The way things are looking, there's going to be quite a bit of blood spilt over the next few days, months even. Thanks to you and Postumus.You might think about that.'

Scrofa shook his head. 'I've no idea what you are talking about.'

'Liar!' Cato spat at him. 'You're in on the conspiracy! Right up to your stinking neck.'

'No! I have nothing to do with any plot.'

'Bollocks!' said Macro. 'You were appointed to command the Second Illyrian by Longinus. He instructed you to provoke a revolt, and you've done all that he asked, and more. Don't even try to deny it.'

'But it's not true!' Scrofa whined. 'He never gave me such orders. I swear it. It was just supposed to be a temporary appointment. He said it would look good on my record. He said it would help me to find a command of a good cohort in a better posting.'

'I don't believe you,' Macro responded. 'You told me you were waiting for the appointment to be made permanent.'

'I lied! I was only supposed to be the prefect until the man he really wanted for the job could be approved.'

'And who was that?' Cato interrupted. 'Who did he really want for the post?'

Scrofa looked surprised. 'Postumus. Who else?'

Macro and Cato looked at each other, and Macro frowned. 'Postumus? That doesn't make sense. The Governor could have appointed an acting prefect on his own initiative. If he wanted Postumus why didn't he just appoint him from the outset? You're lying, Scrofa.'

'No. Why should I?'

'To protect your scrawny neck. Postumus was just a junior centurion. He'd never have made the cut for promotion to take command of an auxiliary cohort.Why are you lying to us?'

'I'm not,' Scrofa said deliberately.

'Yes.You. Are. And it's time you realised that we're no longer playing games here. The stakes are too high for that. Now, you will tell us everything we want to know and you will tell us the truth. I need to make sure you understand how serious we are. Cato, pass me your dagger.'

Cato pulled the blade from its scabbard with a tinny rasp and offered it to his friend.

'Thanks.' Macro smiled, then launched himself across the gap between the beds and with his spare hand grabbed Scrofa by the neck and slammed his head against the rough stone wall of the cell. 'Take his hand, Cato!'

Cato took an instant to recover from his friend's sudden assault on the prisoner. Then he leaned across, grabbed Scrofa's left hand in both of his and held it tightly as Scrofa tried to wrench it back. Macro punched the pommel of the dagger into Scrofa's kidneys and the man gasped in agony.

'No more struggling, understand?' Macro snarled, and waited until the other nodded quickly. Then Macro turned back to Cato. 'Hold his hand flat on the wall there, where he can see it. Good. Now then, Scrofa. This is your last chance. You'll give me the answers I'm looking for, or I'll cut your thumbs off. To start with…'

Macro held the man's neck in a tight grip with one hand while he took a firm hold of the dagger handle with the other, and lowered the edge of the broad blade towards the joint between Scrofa's thumb and the rest of his hand. Scrofa's eyes widened in terror and there was a thin keening noise in his throat before he managed to speak.

'I swear to you – on my life – I know nothing! Nothing! I swear it!'

Macro lifted the blade away from the thumb and stared at Scrofa for a moment, scrutinising his expression. Then he clicked his tongue. 'Sorry, I'm not convinced. Let's see if the loss of one thumb can provide a little incentive. Cato, hold him still.'

Macro lowered the blade so that the edge pressed into Scrofa's flesh. The skin split and there was a small trickle of blood as Scrofa cried out. Macro tensed his arm, ready to begin sawing through the muscle and bone.

'Wait,' said Cato. 'I think he's telling the truth.'

'He's lying.'

'I'm not!' Scrofa whimpered.

'Quiet, you!' Macro shook him by the neck and turned back to Cato. 'What makes you think this worm's telling the truth?'

'He's been set up by Longinus. Think about it. Longinus is shrewd enough to cover his tracks when he can. So he sends Postumus down here to stir things up. Only the previous prefect proved to be something of an obstacle to Longinus' plans. So Postumus removed him. Scrofa is appointed to fill the gap.'

'Why him?'

'Because Longinus knows that he's vain and greedy. I'll bet you that Longinus told Scrofa that he had been picked for the post because he showed promise. I'd guess that he also encouraged him to go in hard on the locals to prove his mettle. Is that right?'

Scrofa nodded.

'So Scrofa turns up here and Postumus plays him like a lyre. He encourages him to lay into the locals, involves him in the caravan protection racket and is the real commander of the cohort. And if Longinus' plans don't work out in the end then the blame can be laid at Scrofa's door. Longinus blames any rebellion on Scrofa and has him done away with before he can be returned to Rome to be investigated. Longinus is seen to act decisively, the Judaeans get to see us punish the man held responsible for causing the trouble, and Postumus is still in position. Longinus wins every way.' Cato shook his head. 'We've got the wrong man. Postumus is the one. He's Longinus' agent.'

Macro considered this for a moment, then he released Scrofa and backed away, sitting down on the opposite bed again. He handed the dagger back to Cato and nodded towards Scrofa. 'So what do we do with him?'

'Keep him safe. In case he's needed as a witness against Longinus.' Cato glanced at Scrofa.'You understand what's going on? You've been used all along.'

'No.' Scrofa frowned. 'Longinus is my patron. My friend.'

'Some friend!' Macro snorted and looked at Cato with a wry expression. 'Oh, you can see why he chose this beauty for the job.'

'Quite.' Cato kept his eyes on Scrofa. 'Listen, you know what I said makes sense. You don't owe Longinus any loyalty.The man has betrayed you. As he'll betray the Emperor and Rome if he gets the chance. You have to help us.'

'Help you?' Scrofa smiled. 'Why should I help you? Until you two turned up I was raking it in. Now, you've taken my command from me, thrown me in this cell and assaulted me. Why should I help you?'

'He's got a point,' said Macro.

'He's got no choice,' Cato replied. 'Longinus can't afford to let him live. He already knows too much, even if he can't quite believe it yet. He helps us or he's dead. Simple as that.'

Scrofa looked at Cato and chewed his lip. 'You're serious about Longinus?'

'Very.'

Scrofa shook his head. 'I don't believe it.'

No one spoke for a moment and Macro could not help feeling sorry for the wretched man on the other bed. Scrofa had no place in the army. He was lazy, corrupt, incompetent and too stupid to see beyond his dreams of glory. But he might yet be of some use. He might yet redeem himself. Macro stood up.

'Come on, Cato. Let's go. There's nothing more we can learn here.'

Just before the door was closed on him Scrofa called out, 'Please, let me out of this cell. I swear I'll cause no trouble.'

Macro considered the request for a moment, then shook his head. 'Sorry. I need every measure of the men's loyalty and obedience. If they see you walking around the fort it'll only confuse the issue.You have to stay here, out of sight and out of mind. For a while at least. It's for the best.'