‘Duty, sir,’ Ferox lied. In truth he had no choice if he was to protect his family.

‘Or has she chosen this separation? Leaves her free, of course, and she is so much younger than you…’ The legatus let the question trail off.

‘How is your health, my lord?’ Ferox asked in a voice of deep concern, feeling that two could fight dirty as easily as one. ‘You suffered so terribly among the Brigantes. It was said that you suffered from poor health and low spirits for a long time.’ Actually, the gossip said that the former tribune was insane, all but sowing his fields with salt like Odysseus, although a few hinted that the madness was invented to prevent public disgrace. Either way, a promising career in public life was felt to be over.

Was there a twitch? Perhaps, but the legatus rallied quickly. ‘I believe many said that I was mad, you know. Just think of that!’ There was a tick now, but a deliberate one. ‘As if that had ever disqualified anyone from the Senate! Indeed, in the army I understand it is a positive advantage.’

‘Only for senior officers, my lord,’ Ferox said before he could stop himself. He silently cursed Vindex and his sense of humour – and like all northerners, his constant talk.

Crispinus twitched and then roared with laughter. ‘Quite true, quite true, although best not said aloud… Well then, since you do not seem to wish to speak of your own family and affairs – and yes, I know you have children…’

‘The twins are close to being women now, my lord.’

‘Then all the more reason for their father to be close by and keep his eyes peeled and sword sharp to see off those whose designs are less than honourable. And yet you are here on the edge of Syria, so far away – and war is coming.’ Crispinus sighed in disappointment at the lack of reaction. ‘I suppose war is always coming wherever you are, Flavius Ferox? You seem to have a knack. What was it that old villain Vindex used to say? ‘The centurion has a way of making friends.’ Yes, that was it. Where you go, trouble follows. And now you are here, and so am I, waiting for chaos and war as usual. Just like old times.’

‘You had a choice, my lord.’

‘I have a duty, just like you.’ By any normal standard, Crispinus ought to have been given command of a legion six or seven years ago. Aristocrats always liked to take each step along their career as soon as they were eligible, but for a long time his progress had ceased and at thirty-seven he was old to command a legion. ‘The Lord Trajan has charged me with command of a picked legion when we are on the cusp of a great war, a war that may in time make even his conquest of Dacia appear little more than a border skirmish. Thus we have our parts to play and must do our utmost to prevail for the sake of the res publica and for our own reputation. That is our only way home.’