Nepos toured the forts and rode the length of the Wall, and spoke to his senior commanders, including Tullio. He returned to Eburacum for a few days to preside over the trials of the suspected ringleaders of the rising. And he announced, in the even-handed way of wiser Romans, that he would consider compensation for farmers who had lost significant chunks of land - always providing they could prove they hadn’t taken part in the uprising themselves.

Then he came to Banna, where he ordered a review. Tullio, Annius and their staff were called in, as were senior officers from the forts, a couple of tribunes from each of the three legions, and the architect, Xander, with his sponsor Severa, and Brigonius and other local suppliers.

The meeting was fractious from the start. Nepos demanded of Tullio, ‘How could this happen, prefect?’

‘We had some failures of intelligence,’ Tullio admitted, ‘which have been put right. A failure of security too which has been tightened.’ Brigonius could testify to that; he had the bruises inflicted by gatekeeping soldiers to prove it. ‘But,’ Tullio went on, ‘we just didn’t anticipate the way the attack unfolded. The Wall is designed to deal with attacks from the north, not the south!’

Nepos shook his head. ‘I still find it hard to believe. This has implications for everything we are doing here. If this were to happen again—’

‘It won’t,’ Severa said quickly. ‘Governor, this was a bit of restlessness by unhappy Brigantian farmers. Once your more lenient policies are accepted—’

Nepos glared at her until she was silent. ‘Madam, to my mind we are building for centuries. Perhaps Brigantia will be quiet for a season or two. But in time a new generation of young bulls will rise up who will imagine their grandfathers didn’t go far enough - I’ve seen it all before. We must plan for all contingencies.’

A young man in brightly polished dress uniform stood and took the floor. ‘And that isn’t all we have to think about.’ He bowed to the governor. ‘Sir, my name is Galba Iulius Sabinus. I am a tribune of the sixth; my legate at Eburacum sent you his report on the new military dispositions.’

Tullio growled, ‘The damn legions didn’t deploy.’

‘But they might have had to,’ Sabinus said with effortless command.

Nepos nodded to the tribune. ‘I’ve seen the report. You may summarise its findings, Iulius Sabinus.’

Sabinus was good-looking, strong-featured, with thick dark hair. Brigonius imagined he might actually be a native Roman - and if he was a tribune he must be of the senatorial class, in the course of a career which might one day lead him to a post like Nepos’s own. Brigonius always reminded himself that to men such as Nepos and Sabinus, whatever happened in Britain was but an incident in a long career progression.