‘All in all we have made a good start, but it is only a start,’ Crispinus announced and managed to hold back a cough, for coughing too often made his cheek start twitching. Odd how taking a drink when thirsty made him want to cough. ‘As the primus reminds us – and will no doubt continue to remind us…’

‘No doubt whatsoever, sir,’ Caecilius chipped in and there was more laughter. ‘More haste, less speed.’

‘As you say, and if it was good enough for the divine Augustus, then who are we to argue. We cannot rush and let ourselves make mistakes. Everything must be done with care, and everything must be done properly. That is the only way in the long run, and sieges tend to be about the long run. As importantly, it sends a message. The other thing the good citizens of Nicopolis need to understand is that we are determined to come into their city. If they will not admit us as friends then we shall force our way in as enemies. So we show our utter determination. One way or another, we are coming.’ Crispinus tried to fight down the thought that anything one said about a siege and assault had a sexual air about it. The idea grew, spreading like leaven through bread, until he was struggling for words. It worried him, less because of the thing itself, than the fear that he no longer found it easy to concentrate.

‘One way or another, we are coming,’ he repeated, making himself go on. There was no hint that anyone else found this remotely amusing. ‘We must show them that not only are we determined, but that we are fully capable of breaching’—just stopped himself from saying penetrating—‘their walls. Once they realise that this will happen whatever they do, then they may be willing to talk.

‘Think about it and try to imagine their feelings. Each morning our works come closer, our ramps will grow higher.’ He tapped his finger hard on the table. ‘The next morning closer again,’ another tap, ‘and the next still closer,’ he tapped again. ‘On and on, day after day. They must know that there is no escape. They may just as well surrender their virtue to us first as last.’ There were puzzled frowns around the table. Crispinus took another drink and stood so that it would be easier to gesture at the plan.

‘We have the two main and the three small forts – so Cerialis is no longer cut off from my signals and free to wage his own war!’

‘It is a burden, I’ll not deny,’ the prefect told them.

‘We have redoubts and other positions facing the main gateways. And soon the little gates in the city walls?’

‘Tomorrow, sir,’ Caecilius confirmed. ‘And their ditch is a help wherever it runs. Hard for them to attack us across that and even harder to escape if we repulse them.’ In the last two days, few defenders had come outside the walls to fight, and only the archers among them posed much of a threat. A bigger danger was the artillery in the towers and inside the walls, so the Romans built ramparts and redoubts to give cover to men and their own ballistae. Once one was built and secure, they could start on another a bit closer to the enemy. ‘The first musculi were brought forward this morning, and another dozen will be ready tomorrow. Eight of those are the ones in the prefect’s camp.’