Cerialis bit his lip to keep a straight face, and was relieved when Crispinus cut in.

‘This was a woman from the camp, I presume?’ the legatus asked.

‘No, sir, once they were finished’—the two older legionaries exchanged brief glances at the expense of their younger comrade—‘she said that her name was Artemis and that the price was a half drachma for playing my flute and a full drachma for more. She was from the city, my lord. A professional,’ he added.

‘Jupiter’s holy toga,’ Crispinus said, shaking his head in sheer wonder. It was a traditional oath of the legions, more of a joke now than anything else. ‘You, Secundus, how often has this happened? Every time you went on outpost duty.’

‘Sir,’ the legionary acknowledged.

‘And what about the nights when others were on duty?’

‘Don’t know, sir,’ Secundus lied.

Crispinus chuckled. ‘Then Venus was the right password, wasn’t it?’

‘Sir.’

‘The centurion Germanus had mentioned that he wondered why there were so many volunteers for outpost duty during the night. Sounds as if this whore appeared the first night, and they told her to come back the next night at a set time. Judged right, all three could enjoy her before someone came to check on them.’

Crispinus barked his laugh. ‘Well, I did say I wanted to see initiative in my men. And where is this Artemis now?’

‘May be best to let Duccius finish his story.’ Cerialis knew that he was on the verge of breaking down. ‘It is, uh… interesting.’

Duccius stamped to attention again, in spite of Crispinus’ effort to wave him down. ‘I stepped towards them and said, “Well, my lads, what have we here? You are in trouble now and no mistake.” At which point the woman, Artemis, came towards me and knelt down, lifting my tunic.’

Arrian choked back a snigger.

Crispinus glared at him. ‘Go on.’

‘At that moment, legionary Priscus shouted, “Hey, there are more of them tonight!” and as I pushed the woman away I saw that two more whores had appeared, one of whom said that she was Princess Azátē, daughter of King Abgarus of Osrhoene.’

‘Hercules’ balls, man, you cannot call a princess a whore!’ Crispinus gasped. Cerialis covered his mouth with his hand so as not to betray himself.

‘Sorry, sir, forgetting myself. Two women came into the outpost – Princess Azátē, daughter of King Abgarus of Osrhoene, and another whore.’ Arrian was shaking with silent laughter, and the angry expression of the legatus only made it worse. ‘Priscus clapped his hands,’ Duccius went on, ‘and took the princess by the arm and said, “I don’t care who you are, lass, let’s see your tits!” At this point Secundus said, “Oh shit! Shut up, you fool!” and young Felix stood up, adjusting his breeches and said, “What is going on?” He sounded very cheerful.’

‘I bet he did,’ Crispinus conceded.

‘At this point the princess shook herself free and stepped back. “Take me to your commander,” she told me, but I was busy pushing away the whore in front of me. “Oh yes, my girl,” I told her, “and how do I know you are who you say you are and not just another whore.”’ There was sweat on Duccius’ brow, but he was a man of resolution and continued to read. ‘Priscus lunged forward, saying, “Fancy name or not, I’m first!” and the princess pushed the other whore at him and he began to tear at her clothes. She screamed and tried to fight him off, and the princess started to run, until young Felix grabbed her around the waist and used his other hand to rip her dress down in front before kissing her.’