Simon nodded. ‘Good. That is what I thought and I did not want to add the threat that if you don’t then you will surely be executed. Hard to trust a man after threatening him. And I think you are smart enough to know that they will watch you even closer than they watch me, and if they don’t like anything they see …’

‘Thetatus.’

‘I don’t understand. Well, I don’t care and there is no more time.’ There was the sound of the gate into the street opening.

‘Know that matters are still more complicated because the princess’ brother came to the city with hundreds of warriors. The council refused to let him within our walls or to see his sister, for they do not wish to take sides in a family argument. He does not quite have his sister’s charm, but can make himself pleasant enough in his way, and he craves a reputation as a warrior like most men crave riches. His warriors helped fight against the Romans on the first day and now are somewhere out there – sometimes in sight and sometimes not. The leaders of Nicopolis will not want to offend him, and will try to make use of him without committing themselves to his cause or making themselves vulnerable to him.’

‘Can he raise a bigger army? One to break the siege?’

A shake of the head was the only answer Simon gave, for the guards reappeared, one jostling a slave, and the Christian carrying a bowl of food. ‘Get him shaved, cleaned and fed!’ Simon commanded, switching back to Greek. ‘Try to make him look human. And be quick about it, I am to take him to the strategoi at the start of the second hour.’

Domitius soon felt fuller than he had for a long while, and to be clean was even more of a pleasure. The slave had shaved him in that wonderful, immaculate way that removed every hair without once cutting the skin. It was a secret that seemed known only to slave barbers and was all the more remarkable given his wild beard. The boy had looked positively distressed by the sight, whether from the thought of the scale of his task or from sheer offence such neglect caused to his sensibilities.

As Simon and his guards led Domitius to a large house just outside the walls of the citadel, he felt a lot better. The tunic was rough, and even if it would take time to free himself of all the vermin, quite a few had gone with his old one. He would have felt even better with thoroughly cleaned boots – one of the guards had waved a rag at them – and better yet a proper belt and a sword in its scabbard, but in spite of that this was good. He found that his shoulders went back as they walked, and realised that he was going already unconsciously in step with Simon’s stride. When they were admitted to the big house, he was marching, stamping his feet, head high as he went across the courtyard. If they wanted a Roman soldier then they could have one.