We will bring fire and the sword to the Parthians such that they never again dare to disturb the peace of our lands, and those of our allies. Our goal is nothing less than the elimination of Parthia as a military power, and we will not rest until their king kneels before the Emperor and begs for his mercy!'

The officers stamped their feet in approval and Macro nudged Cato. 'That's more like it. Longinus is my kind of general!'

Cato frowned. 'Have you forgotten why we were sent east in the first place?' He lowered his voice. 'The man was plotting against the Emperor.'

'We never proved that.'

'No,' Cato admitted. 'There is no conclusive proof, that is true. But we know what he was planning. We know the nature of the man, Macro. I don't trust him. Nor should you.'

Macro considered this for a moment and then scratched his chin with scarred knuckles. 'Maybe this is his chance to redeem himself.'

'Or maybe he is still trying to win a reputation, and a following, and make himself powerful enough to challenge the Emperor. Either way we should be wary of him. If he goes into this war recklessly, then we're in great danger.' Cato tipped his head towards the other officers in the hall. 'All of us. We need a soldier's general to lead us against the Parthians, not an ambitious politician. Besides, this campaign will present him with ample opportunity to get rid of us. Mark my words. We must be careful.'

Macro nodded thoughtfully. 'Fair enough.'

On the podium, Longinus signalled for quiet again. 'I have sent orders to the legates of the Third and Sixth Legions to join us here. As soon as the army is assembled we will march east and crush the Parthians. Until then, my comrades, we must ready our men for war. Every officer will prepare a full inventory of his equipment, recall any soldiers on detached duty and make all necessary requisitions. It is my intention that the army break camp the moment we are ready. You will receive your full orders for the coming campaign within days. I end with this thought…In the years to come, when we are all old men, people will look on us in wonder and say, there go the men who crushed Rome's oldest and deadliest enemy. If we triumph – no, when we triumph, as we certainly will, then we shall have won more than a victory. Our deeds will win us all a share of immortality, and no true Roman can wish for more than that.' Longinus drew his sword and stabbed the point into the air over his head. 'For Rome and victory!'

All around Cato and Macro the officers punched their fists into the air and echoed the cry. After a quick glance at Cato Macro followed suit and joined in the cheering with a lusty roar. Cato sighed and shook his head before joining in half-heartedly. Not for the first time, despite his hard-won sense of himself as a soldier, he felt detached from the hardy professionalism of the other officers. Up on the podium Cassius Longinus was milking the martial mood for all he was worth, turning to one section of the audience at a time and thrusting his sword up in the air. At length he sheathed the weapon and stood back from the podium as the senior centurion of the Tenth Legion stepped forward and slammed his vine cane down on the flagstone and bellowed, 'Dismissed!'

The officers turned and began to shuffle towards the doors, talking animatedly about the prospect of a new campaign. It would be the first action that many had seen since their posting to the province of Syria. The wary balance of power that had existed between Parthia and Rome since the days of the first emperor, Augustus, had finally crumbled. The long game of diplomacy and subterfuge that had been played out between the agents of the two empires was over and now the clash of great armies would decide the conflict.

'Prefect Macro! Centurion Cato!'

Cato started at the shout echoing off the walls and with Macro he turned to see the senior centurion staring at them. 'Remain behind!'

'Shit,' Macro muttered as the nearest officers briefly shot them curious looks. 'What now?'

Cato shrugged his shoulders and began to ease his way through the crowd leaving the hall as he led the way towards the podium. Cato saw that Longinus and Legate Amatius were watching as he and Macro strode towards them. They stood before the podium as the last of the officers left the hall. Longinus nodded to the senior centurion.

'That's all.You may leave.'

'Yes, sir!' The centurion saluted smartly and turned to march after his comrades, nailed boots echoing across the flagstones. He left the hall, pulling the doors closed behind him, and then Longinus turned to Macro and Cato.

'There's one other matter to be resolved before my army goes to war. I have decided the fate of Legionary Crispus.'

All three subordinates stared intently at their commander as Longinus continued. 'In view of the gravity of the offence, and the utmost need to preserve discipline given the present circumstances, I have decided that Crispus must be put to death.'

'No!' Amatius shook his head. 'Sir, I protest.You gave me to believe that he would be spared.'

'I said no such thing,' Longinus snapped. 'Did I?'

Amatius sucked in a breath through clenched teeth. 'No, sir. But you implied it.'

'Implication is not proof.' Longinus glanced meaningfully at Macro and Cato before he continued. 'Crispus will be broken by the men of his century, before the assembled ranks of the Second Illyrian. At dawn tomorrow. You will communicate the news to the prisoner, Legate, and see that he is held securely until the execution is carried out. I have heard of incidents when condemned men have escaped in the past. If Crispus is permitted to abscond, then the men assigned to guard him will take his place. Make sure that they understand that. Clear?'

Amatius swallowed his anger and turned to Macro with a bitter expression. 'I imagine you're delighted by the news.'

Macro stared back for a moment before he replied, 'If you imagine that, sir, then I fear that you will never understand the soldiers that you command.'

Amatius glared at Macro for an instant, then turned back to Longinus and stiffened his back. 'Is that all, sir?'

'That's all. Have Crispus' comrades report to the parade ground outside the camp at first light. They are to wear tunics only and be issued with cudgels.'

'Yes, sir.'

Amatius' tone was subdued and Cato could well understand why.The haughty legionaries would be humiliated by appearing before the auxiliaries of the Second Illyrian without their armour and weapons. That was quite deliberate. Army discipline demanded that the comrades of a condemned man shared his shame so that they would be sure to punish him for humbling them. In future, they might be more careful about letting another man commit an offence that would rebound on them. Since Amatius would be obliged to lead the party from the Tenth and bear witness to the execution, he too would take some small share of the shame, hence the smouldering hatred in his eyes as he glared at Macro and Cato briefly before striding from the hall, and slamming the door behind him with a crashing boom.

For a moment nothing was said, then Macro dipped his head in acknowledgement to Cassius Longinus.

'Thank you, sir. It was the right decision.'

'I don't need you to tell me that,' Longinus snapped.

'Very well, sir. But thank you anyway.' Macro paused. 'Is there anything else?'

'No. Just make sure this doesn't happen again. I've had enough of the pair of you interfering in my business in Syria. If it hadn't been for the Parthians I'd have got rid of you. By now you'd be well on your way back to Rome to report in person to that snake, Narcissus. As it is… I need every man I can scrape together to face the Parthians. There's no question that I would defeat them if I had the reinforcements I asked for. But there's only the three legions and a handful of auxiliary units available to take them on. The odds are not good.' Longinus smiled coldly. 'So if I succeed then the glory is greater. But if I fail, then I shall draw some small comfort from the knowledge that you two will be dying alongside me.'