‘Let’s hear it.’ Macro looked rather too pleased with himself, the trainee thought. ‘Britomaris has a weakness,’ the optio announced. ‘What is it?’ Casting glances from the corner of his eye, Macro leaned in to Pavo as if to whisper in his ear. ‘His stamina,’ the optio said in a low voice. ‘It’s shit.’ ‘Wonderful,’ Pavo replied as he pulled away from Macro. ‘What a pity I’m not challenging him to a marathon race instead of a fight to the death.’ The optio wagged a finger at Pavo. ‘You’re not following me, lad. I saw it after Capito had a sword plunged into his heart at the amphitheatre. Everyone else was too shocked to notice, but the barbarian was sweating out of his arse. I’m telling you, he could barely stand on his feet by the end of the contest. And that was just a short fight. Think about what would happen if you really made the bastard work!’ Pavo raised a sceptical eyebrow at Macro. ‘Hide and seek. That’s how you’re going to beat Britomaris.’ ‘Hide .
