“The legate’ll be glad for the extra men,” the First Spear told me when I made my report. “But I hope they brought their own water. Hardly a drop to drink anywhere in this pile of sand.” He squinted at me—one of Trajan’s brand of officers, I could tell. The kind who still looked fit in a breastplate, and spoke Latin no more refined than mine. “You’re Vercingetorix the Red, aren’t you?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Heard that name. Lusius Quietus says you aren’t completely useless in a fight.”

“He mention I saved his life a few times?”

“Berbers, they need saving. They’re all crazy. Go make your report to the Emperor; he’ll want the updates about Seleucia directly. He’s out watching the latest cavalry attack fail miserably.” The First Spear let out a short bark of laughter. “Welcome to Hades. I’ll wager you didn’t think it would be this hot.”

I hadn’t seen my Emperor in some months, and I had to control my expression when he turned on his horse in his cluster of Praetorians and staff officers and greeted me. Trajan had deep new lines about his mouth, his eyes seemed sunken, and one corner of his mouth dragged downward in a permanent small frown. I remembered hearing a rumor that the Emperor had suffered a collapse a few months before and had been kept to his bed for a week, fuming all the while. I’d brushed it off as idle gossip. Trajan, ill? The man who could still walk a full day’s route march and then drink an entire legion under the table? Impossible. He looks ill now, I couldn’t help thinking as I got off my horse and saluted him. But his grin as he waved me up was as warm as ever.

“Vercingetorix! Just the man to join us on our little siege. What do you think—easier than Old Sarm?”

I squinted at the walls, which seemed to be rising out of a haze of dust. Roman cavalry were making a halfhearted attack on the gates, and I heard the distant thrum of arrows. “I’d say harder, Caesar.”

“Me too,” the Emperor said. “No pipes to break this time. That was easy.”

“That was my idea, Caesar,” I volunteered. “Breaking the pipes? I had Titus present it for me.”

“Did you, by Jove? Good fellow, young Titus Aurelius. One of the few honest men in Rome, if I’m not mistaken. Doesn’t hurt that he’s now one of the richest either.”

“He’s a good sort,” I agreed. “I didn’t mind he got the credit for my pipes.”

“Hadrian tried to claim it,” Trajan snorted. “Now, tell me about Seleucia.”