Romulus glanced up at the stunned and shocked faces of the audience. No one could believe what he'd done. It was unthinkable that an unarmed man could survive a bout against a creature as fearsome as the rhinoceros.

A pair of hands began to clap. Slowly at first, but then the speed increased.

When the crowd saw who was applauding, they hastily joined in. Cheers and shouts of congratulation replaced the vitriol which had fallen on Romulus' ears only moments before. The hypocrisy of it was stupendous.

Romulus looked up, and saw that it was Julius Caesar himself who was leading the ovation. A great lump of pride filled his throat, and tears pricked his eyes. At least one person present could see his bravery. Somehow this recognition eased the pain of Petronius' death.

'Who is this man?' cried Caesar. 'Bring him to me at once!'

The master of ceremonies scurried over to a furious-looking Memor and whispered in his ear. The impotent rage twisting the lanista's face quickly disappeared and he set off down the nearest set of stairs. The thunderous applause continued, and Romulus took the opportunity to honour Petronius' body. He hadn't been afforded this luxury with Brennus, which made it all the more important. Turning his back on Caesar, Romulus crouched down and clasped the veteran's bloodied right hand in his. 'Thank you, comrade. I will ask that the proper rites are performed. That you have a decent grave,' he whispered. Unlike Brennus, whose body was probably picked over by birds of carrion. Tears ran down Romulus' cheeks as he gently closed Petronius' staring eyes. 'Go well.'

When he stood, there were four of Memor's men pointing spears at his chest. The lanista was just behind them. There was a grudging respect in all of their gazes, except for Memor, who looked like a snake deprived of its prey. Romulus didn't care. Greater people were now involved, and the lanista would no longer decide his fate. In a tight phalanx, the five forced him back under the seating, past the cages and outside again. They entered the spectators' part of the arena, a novel experience for Romulus. It was too much to take in. He was still reeling from the shock of Petronius' death and the enormity of what he'd done.

Emerging from the dark into bright sunlight again, Romulus squinted. He was now in the dignitaries' box, surrounded by legionaries, high-ranking officers and senators. In their eyes he saw a mixture of emotions: respect, amazement and fear; and, in a few, revulsion and jealousy. Awe filled his own heart as he was shoved forward to stand before Caesar. Although Romulus had seen the general numerous times when in the Twenty-Eighth, he'd never been this close. In late middle age, with thinning grey hair, prominent nose and high cheekbones, Caesar was nothing special to look at. Despite this, his self-confidence was obvious and there was a palpable aura of command about him. Instinctively Romulus bowed from the waist.

'Leave us,' Caesar ordered Memor's men. He jabbed a finger at the lanista's chest. 'You stay.'

Bowing and scraping, the guards vanished.

'I understand that this slave was to die as a noxius for illegally joining the legions?'

'Yes, sir.'

Caesar frowned. 'And the other?'

'His comrade, sir. Apparently the idiot tried to defend him when he was exposed.'

'Someone also tells me that you used to own this slave. Is that true?'

'Indeed, sir. I bought him as a boy. He was trained to be a secutor,' replied Memor in an unctuous tone. 'But he ran away more than eight years ago. Murdered a noble, you see.'

Caesar's gaze fell on Romulus. 'Two capital offences,' he said softly.

What have I to lose, thought Romulus. 'I didn't kill the nobleman, sir,' he protested.

'He would say that, sir,' Memor interjected.

'Keep quiet,' snapped Caesar, his dislike of the lanista obvious. 'If you didn't, who did?' he asked Romulus.

'My friend, sir.'

'Him down there?'

'No, sir. Another man – an Etruscan.'

'Where is he?'

'I don't know, sir,' Romulus answered truthfully. 'He disappeared in Alexandria after being wounded by an Egyptian sling stone.' Responding to Caesar's surprised look, he explained. 'We were both forced to join the Twenty-Eighth.'

Caesar seemed amused. 'You had no choice in the matter?'

'No, sir.'

'Innocent of all crimes, eh?' Caesar tapped a fingernail against his teeth. 'That's what everyone says.'

His legionaries tittered.

'I am guilty of one charge, sir,' Romulus butted in. He would pretend no longer.

'Which is?'

'When my friend and I ran from the ludus, we joined a mercenary cohort in Crassus' army. Told them we were Gaulish tribesmen.'

'This story gets taller and taller,' scoffed Caesar. He glanced at Memor and saw him trying to conceal his reaction. His expression grew fierce. 'Speak!'

'I heard that rumour, sir,' the lanista admitted reluctantly. 'After the news of Carrhae, I never thought to see the whoreson again.'

'There are few whoresons who can kill a rhinoceros single-handed,' mused Caesar. 'So you and the other prisoners were taken to Margiana?'

'Yes, sir. Fifteen hundred miles from Seleucia, to the ends of the earth,' said Romulus, staring into the general's eyes. 'The Forgotten Legion, we called ourselves.'

There was a small smile of acknowledgement. 'Yet you escaped. That was well done. Did you have companions?'

'One, sir. The same man who killed the nobleman,' answered Romulus, starting to prune his story. There was no point stretching Caesar's tolerance too far. 'We reached Barbaricum and found passage to Egypt, but our ship was wrecked on the Ethiopian coast. Luckily we survived, and the gods continued to show us favour. A bestiarius took us on, and we travelled with him to Alexandria.'

'Where you joined the Twenty-Eighth.'

Romulus nodded.

'I've heard many tall stories, but this is the best yet,' Caesar cried.

More hoots of amusement rang out from his followers, and Romulus realised that his fate was still most uncertain. Caesar's next move was therefore most unexpected.

'Longinus!' the general called. 'Where are you?'

A grizzled officer in an ill-fitting toga stood up. 'Sir?'

'Ask this slave about Carrhae. Questions that no one else but a veteran of the battle could answer.'

Longinus glared, his whole stance showing that he didn't believe Romulus' story. 'How did Crassus' son die?' he demanded.

'Publius led a combined charge of cavalry and mercenaries against the Parthians, sir,' replied Romulus at once. 'The enemy pretended to flee, but then they swept around his forces and slaughtered nearly every man. Only twenty mercenaries were allowed to return. Then the bastards cut off his head, and paraded it in front of the whole army.'

Longinus was too plain a man to conceal his surprise. 'He's right, sir.'

'Keep asking.'

Obediently, the officer interrogated Romulus about Crassus' whole campaign. All his answers were correct, and at last Longinus gave in. 'He must have been there, sir,' he admitted. 'Or else he's been talking to every survivor who made it home.'

'I see.' There was a long silence as Caesar considered his options.

Romulus looked out at the battered shape that was Petronius' body. He'd probably be joining him very soon. So be it, he thought. I don't care any longer. I have done my best.

'I have seen many things as a general and a leader of men.' Caesar's voice was pitched to carry around the whole amphitheatre. 'Never have I seen such bravery as these two noxii showed today, though. Unarmed and condemned to die, one was resourceful enough to steal a spear from a half-asleep guard. Disregarding his own safety, he tried to wound the rhinoceros in order to save his friend.' Caesar looked around at the audience, which was hanging on his every word.