‘The Tribunal of One Hundred and Four think this isn’t enough. Some of them are impatient for war. They want me to ride out with the phalanxes and meet the Hatti on open ground. That would lose us the war for sure, and I suspect some of them know it in their hearts, but the siege has so ground them down that they’d rather lose it than carry on. I have seen sieges, I’ve laid them, I’ve survived them. Most sieges last years – that’s what they don’t understand.

‘Others, meanwhile, want to clip my wings. They are envious of my power, my position, and so on. Such envy is a constant in the affairs of human beings. Some, indeed, think my appointment with the cross is overdue.’ He glanced at his hands, flexing them, as if his palms itched. ‘Again, they want this even though they know it will lose them the war, or at least they suspect it. They want me downed even so. But I, you see, cannot allow that, Nelo, for my duty is to save Carthage, despite the difficulties I am having with some of the Carthaginians.

‘So it is true that I have rigged this business of the red-headed saboteurs. I’m sure you won’t be the last to spot it. But I am doing it to force the Tribunal, and the elders, the suffetes and the rest, even the s’rnm, the ordinary folk of the city, force them to accept that they need me if they are to survive this war. And that they need to give me a free hand.’

Nelo thought he understood. ‘You’re going to take over the government.’

Fabius grinned. ‘It’s happened before, as I know very well, for all literate Romans are perforce taught a great deal about Carthaginian history. A man called Bomilcar, for example, back in the days even before Carthage went to war with Rome. Not that his coup succeeded, but he had the right idea.

‘It is quite a feat I am attempting,’ he said now. ‘A foreign general who won’t call his troops out to fight the besieging enemy. Hardly a basis for great popularity with the people, you’d think. Yet here I am, strolling up the Byrsa with a mob at my back.’

‘And if you win today, sir? What then?’

‘Two things. I’m going to want to talk to your people, Nelo.’

‘My people?’

‘The Northlanders. I’m aware there’s quite a community of you here, having fled from your own frozen country. And I’m also aware you’ve brought treasure with you.’

‘Treasure?’

Fabius rapped his temple. ‘Up here. Secrets. That’s what I intend to acquire next.’

Nelo thought of his enigmatic conversation with Ontin the doctor, his talk of secretive House of Crow projects, work Nelo had never been able to progress but perhaps others had . . .