‘That means we fill in the ditch here and here.’ Caecilius indicated the spots. ‘Over the top goes a ramp, twenty paces wide, because we’ll need that width to carry an assault tower that will be higher than the top of their towers by a good fifteen feet. Each tower has a ram, at a height to strike the curtain wall just halfway up. Once we get that far, the musculi can scamper towards the lady’s legs, and will see if men with crowbars cannot start to pull some blocks out!’

‘She’ll scream, I warn you,’ Cerialis said. He was standing, peering closely at the attack planned from his side of the city.

Crispinus was doing some very quick calculations in his head about how much earth would need to be shifted. He did not care much for the answers. ‘So these are the priority?’

‘Yes, but we can run them alongside each other. No hurry with the towers themselves. That’s more skilled work, but does not need to be finished until the ramps are ready. The slog will be filling in the ditch and making the ramps. Not so skilled, but hard, hard labour. It will also take a lot of timber, although doesn’t have to be prime stuff. There’s not a lot of good woodland around here, but before we’re done there will be none.’

‘Will we have to bring more from across the Euphrates?’ Crispinus had seen few trees of any real size within ten miles of the city. There were pines on some of the slopes further back, but he wished he had paid more attention. There was always so much to do and so much to consider. The fear grew that he was no longer capable of understanding and doing everything.

‘Perhaps. I hope not, my lord, but I don’t know. Depends a lot on how active the lads inside are. The ditch holds them back, but at some point they’ll find a way to hit us, maybe at night when it’s easier to sneak across and get back. Don’t think they’ll just sit and watch us as we work.’

‘Their engines are accurate, and some are powerful,’ Rufus pointed out.

‘You’re right, lad, but what I fear – what any besieger really fears – are men who come out to burn what we make and steal our tools.’ There were bemused frowns, and a few sniggers. ‘Think about it, noble lords’—Crispinus could not help thinking of Ferox’s knack of injecting so much scorn into his courtesy—‘wood is the hardest thing to replace apart from saws, spades and axes. We lose those and how do we keep working, no matter how keen we might be?’

‘Battles are won with the dolabra,’ Crispinus said. ‘So said our friend Corbulo, at least.’

‘And he knew a thing or two, sir. We have to be on our guard all the time, and that’s hard, just plain hard because as the days pass you start thinking only about getting the work done and forget the murderous buggers – beg your pardons, sirs – that are waiting, watching our every move, and ready to pounce. I know a few of you have seen a little siege work, haven’t you?’ A couple of the centurions and one tribune nodded. ‘Well it’s like a marriage. You and the defenders get to know each other better than you know anyone else in the world. The one who is better at guessing what the other one is about to do, and can sense their weakness and how to exploit it, is the one who is still standing at the end.’