Lounging around on benches outside were about twenty legionaries, though only a few of them were drinking. They implored the officer to join them but he waved a dismissive hand and continued purposefully on his way. ‘Slow down,’ Cassius murmured to the others. Though they inevitably drew the attention of the soldiers, nothing was said as the trio walked by. This was an area of two- or three-room villas divided by low walls, most of them with a stone-built cistern at the front or rear. Though every dwelling seemed abandoned, the signs of habitation remained: potted plants, either dead or wildly overgrown; small vegetable plots in a similar condition; and, mounted above the doorways, carvings of deities entrusted to guard the home. Eborius kept his head down as he walked and – despite the considerable amount of drink Cassius guessed he’d imbibed – kept up quite a pace. So by the time he turned right into an alley, they were well past the tavern and away from any prying eyes. ‘Eborius!’ The officer stopped and waited as Cassius hurried over to him, Simo and Indavara a few paces behind.
