‘All right, make it ten, if you like,’ Simon had agreed.

That morning all the men he passed were happy, most of them talking and few really listening. They had hit the enemy hard, and it made them feel good. Domitius had seen something of the damage, and reckoned the western ramp was severely, even fatally, compromised.

As usual, Simon was shrewder than most. ‘We lost a few. Going too far rather than pulling back. Their cavalry came up and caught a good few.’ He gestured at the row of severed heads mounted on spears atop the nearest redoubts. ‘Reckon they captured some as well,’ he added grimly. ‘Don’t know what has happened to them.’

The next morning Simon was far more subdued than he had been since the earliest days of the siege, although he would not say why.

‘Have you seen, Sara?’ Domitius asked. ‘And the rest of the family.’

Simon nodded, but would not be drawn. However, John met them up in one of the galleries inside the curtain wall, helped there by the servants. Once there, he sat, and chipped away at stone shot waiting to be used by the engines.

‘I thought that they might like to benefit from my experience,’ he said. ‘I was once quite good with those things when I was young.’ He pointed to his face. ‘Hands not so steady or so strong now, but I can still help them prepare – and tell them how best to aim.’

‘Just remember to shoot only at the enemy, old man,’ Simon chided him, cheering up for the first time that day.

There was a shout, and men fully raised the hatch so that the light stone thrower close by could fling a missile down at the Romans. An observer watching through a narrow slit shouted excitedly, prompting a cheer.

‘You see how much they are learning from me,’ John assured them.

‘I should go back to my cell and leave the work to you,’ Domitius said.

‘No.’ John’s face was serious. ‘Better not. Show yourself to be useful.’

A runner came from one of the strategoi, and Domitius was summoned to fix a broken mechanism in an engine in another tower, so saw no more of the old man that day, and was kept busy until after sunset before being taken back to his cell.

The next day was the same, for the repeated use of the city’s catapults meant that breakages became more and more common, and tended to get more serious. Craftsmen, including some he knew from the elder Simon’s workshop, were tasked with fixing the problems, but no one else had as much knowledge as he did, and he was always in demand. He saw less of the younger Simon, although his men still acted as custodians whenever he was away from the prison, and they were friendly, and even more devoted to their commander than they had been from the start.

‘Got to be careful,’ one whispered. ‘You know his sister is with the princess? Yes? Well, her royal highness is inclined to play games. He won’t say, but I know our lad is worried.’