'And who the hell do you think you are, sunshine?'

The three riders only slowed their mounts to a stop once they were in amongst the legionaries. Marcellus slipped from the back of his horse and thrust his arm back towards the track.

'Behind us! You must stop them!'

'Who's behind you?' the optio growled irritably. 'What are you talking about?'

'We're being pursued. They're trying to kill us.'

'You're not making sense! Calm down, man. Explain yourself. Who are you?'

Marcellus jerked his thumb at Narcissus, bent over his saddle as he struggled for breath. 'Special envoy from the Emperor. We've been attacked. The escort's been wiped out. They're just behind us.'

'Who is?' the optio demanded again.

'I don't know,' admitted Marcellus.'But they'll be on us any moment. Form your men up!'

The optio glanced at him suspiciously and then shouted the order for his men to assemble. Most had already armed themselves and quickly fell into line, javelin in one hand and shield in the other. Their eyes fixed on the opening in the trees where the track emerged from the shadows and headed across the grassy plain towards the camp. A stillness fell over them as they waited for the horsemen to appear. But there was nothing. No sound of hoof-beats, no war cries, nothing. The oak trees stood still and silent and not a breath of life issued from the track that led into the wood. As the legionaries and the three others stood in tense expectation a pigeon made its throaty warble from the branch of a nearby tree.

The optio waited a moment before turning to the three strangers who had ruined his peaceful break from the rigours of woodcutting.

'Well?'

Narcissus tore his gaze away from the track, and shrugged. 'They must have withdrawn the moment they knew we were safe.'

'Assuming they were ever there in the first place.' The optio raised an eyebrow. 'Now then, would you please tell me what the hell is going on here?'

05 The Eagles Prey

' don't think the beard suits you.' 'I Narcissus shrugged. 'It serves its purpose.'

'How was the journey?' General Plautius enquired politely.

'What? Aside from having to spend every night of the last month holed up in some flea-bitten inn. Aside from having to eat the indescribably awful slop that seems to be accepted as "food" amongst the poorer travelling classes. Aside from being hunted down by a gang of hired killers on your very doorstep…'

'Yes. Aside from all that,' the general smiled. 'How was the journey?'

'Quick.' Narcissus shrugged and took another sip of citron-scented water. The Imperial Secretary and the general were sitting under an awning that had been erected on top of a small knoll to one side of the sprawl of tents that made up army headquarters. A small marble-topped table squatted between their two chairs, and an ornate jug of the water and two glasses had been quietly set out by a slave by way of refreshment. Narcissus had shed his sweat-drenched riding clothes and sat in a light linen tunic. Perspiration pricked out of the skin of both men and the breathless air hung heavy as the late afternoon sun burned brilliantly in the clear sky.

Around them the camp stretched out on all sides. Narcissus, used to the smaller scale displays put on by the Praetorian Guard cohorts back in Rome, was impressed by the spectacle. Not that it was the first time he had seen the army of Britain massed for campaigning. He had been present when the four legions and the host of auxiliary units had crushed Caratacus a year earlier. There was something very comforting about the ordered lines of tents. Each one marked the presence of eight men, some of whom were drilling inside the camp. Others were busy grinding sharp edges on to the army's blades, or returning from foraging expeditions laden with baskets of grain, or driving farm animals they had seized from the lands nearby. It all smacked of order and the irresistible might of Rome. With such a huge, well-trained force taking the field it was hard to believe that anything might frustrate the Emperor's aim of adding this land and its tribes to the inventory of empire.

That thought was very much to the fore in Narcissus' mind, and was the reason why he had been sent in secret from the palace to this far-flung camp on the north bank of the river Tamesis.

'How long will you be staying with us?' asked the general.

'How long?' Narcissus looked amused. 'You haven't yet asked why I'm here.'

'I imagine it has something to do with enquiring about the progress of the campaign.'

'Partly that,' Narcissus admitted. 'So how are things going, General?'

'You should know well enough – you must read the dispatches I send back to the palace.'

'Ah, yes. Very informative and very detailed. You have a fine style, if I may say so. Somewhat reminiscent of Caesar's commentaries. Must be heady stuff, commanding so large an army…'

Plautius had known Narcissus long enough to become immune to the ingratiating flattery that was the Greek's stock in trade. He was also sufficiently familiar with the nuances of palace officials to recognise the threat implied in the Imperial Secretary's last remark.

'I am, of course, flattered by the comparison with the divine Julius. But I harbour none of his thirst for power.'

Narcissus smiled.'Come now, General, surely a man in your position with such a large army at his disposal must have developed some small taste for ambition. Such a taste would not be unexpected or, indeed, unwelcome. Rome values ambition in its generals.'

'Rome might. I doubt the Emperor does.'

'Rome and the Emperor are as one,' Narcissus said mildly. 'Some people might regard it as faintly seditious to suggest anything else.'

'Seditious?' Plautius raised an eyebrow. 'You're not serious. Have things got that bad in Rome?'

Narcissus took another, long, sip. He watched the general closely over the rim of the glass before he set it down. 'The situation is worse than you can imagine, Plautius. How long is it since you were last in Rome?'

'Four years. And I haven't missed it a bit. Mind you, that was when Gaius Caligula was in the saddle. I've heard that Claudius is a much better proposition. I'm told things have got a lot better.'

Narcissus nodded.'Better for most, I'll agree. Trouble is, the Emperor is tending to become over-reliant on the wrong sort of people.'

'Present company excepted, I assume.'

'Of course.' Narcissus frowned. 'And that's not even remotely funny, by the way. I have served the Emperor as loyally as any man. You might say I have dedicated myself to ensuring his success.'

'I understand, from my friends in Rome, that your finances have prospered quite remarkably in recent years…'

'So? Is it wrong for a man to be rewarded for his loyal service? But I'm not here to discuss my private finances.'

'Evidently not.'

'And I'll thank your friends to think long and hard before they make such remarks again. That kind of talk has a way of rebounding on loose tongues, if you take my meaning… my warning.'

'I'll let them know.'

'Good. Now then, as I was saying, the Emperor's judgement has become misplaced in recent months. Especially since he slapped eyes, amongst other organs, on that little tart Messalina.'

'I've heard of her.'

'You should see her,' smiled Narcissus. 'Really you should. I've never known anyone quite like her. The moment she enters the room and makes those bloody eyes at men, they flop at her feet like puppies. Makes me sick. And Claudius is not so old that his head can't be turned by youth and beauty. Oh, and she's a smart one too. Jupiter knows how many lovers she is bedding, right there in the imperial palace, but as far as Claudius is concerned she is besotted with him and can do no wrong.'