‘What of the fires?’ Someone had shouted back.

‘I do not understand.’ Arbandes called up.

‘Your agents have burned houses in our city and now you ask us to trust you.’ There seemed to be a scuffle on the wall.

‘Give us a day to consider,’ a different, more educated voice carried down to them. ‘A day of truce.’

‘That is not possible,’ Arrian cut in. ‘Give us your answer now.’ He lowered his voice to whisper to the prince. ‘We are close to making a breach on the far side of the city, and this ramp is ready for use. Tell them their time is running short.’

Arbandes did as he was told, but no answer came from the walls.

‘They are stubborn folk and disrespectful,’ he said at last. ‘They deserve all that they get.’

Arrian could not think of anything to say to that, so after a short while led the prince back through the sheds on the ramp.

‘Down to us then?’ Caecilius asked. He was supervising the men preparing for the second siege tower to be brought up in a few hours’ time.

‘Well, be a shame any other way after all this work,’ Arrian replied. The primus pilus was not amused, but turned to bark orders at some legionaries.

There was less theatre about bringing the second tower up, at least at first. The defenders knew what to expect, and apart from anything else the tower did not have so far to go. Even so, care needed to be taken to prevent it from bogging down under its own weight. All those who did not have other duties paused and watched as it jerkily rolled along. More oxen were needed to pull it, for the animals were thinner than they had been, bones showing from a diet of poor grass, but eventually it reached the approach and they were taken away.

Crispinus watched, for as on the other side, they had set up a tower out of range of the walls, and, while they were preparing to haul the tower up the slope, he paced back and forth across the platform.

‘Ah, the convoy,’ he said to no one in particular as he saw the advance guard riding ahead of the straggling dust thrown up by the wheels. Something was odd, for there were surely more riders than he had sent, and as he watched, half a dozen broke away and galloped around the camp and towards him. It did not take him long to recognise Hadrian, streaking ahead of them. There had been no warning of this visit, and that was worrying. For a while he leaned on the parapet, clutching it tightly because he knew that his face must be twitching. By the time the acting legatus of Syria brought his horse to a skidding halt below them, he had calmed himself.

‘Welcome, sir!’ Crispinus called down and raised his arm in salute.

Hadrian jumped down from his horse, tossing the reins to a soldier standing close by. ‘Think I have arrived at a perfect time! Don’t come down – I’ll join you!’ He strode over to the ladder and almost bounded up it. For a man at the end of a long ride he did not seem at all tired or stiff.