Hadrian felt himself leave the saddle, flying forward, and he tossed the big shield away, as he went over the row of shields, falling now, and the earth came up and smacked into him. There was a gasp from the rows of soldiers. Hadrian struggled to breathe, his eyes blinked and the blackness started to close around him.

‘Who gave you permission to dismount!’ a voice called out from the ranks as someone aped one of the army’s riding instructors, and laughter spread along the serried ranks.

Hadrian felt his mind clear and decided to make the best of it. His face was still pressed against the ground, so he took a bite of earth and started to push himself up.

‘Need a hand, my dear fellow?’ The drawl could only be Quietus. ‘Perhaps this is a new technique for us to consider, my lord?’ he added. ‘If spears don’t work jump on the buggers!’

Hadrian was half up, and saw the emperor next to the Numidian. Trajan seemed amused rather than annoyed, which made it easier to play along. ‘Well, I do like to try out new ideas,’ he explained. ‘This way my wrestling skills would come into play.’

Trajan gave a little snort of laughter. ‘Not sure that it will catch on,’ he said.

‘True, my lord, but up until the last moment it was perfect – and by throwing his shield he might knock another foe off his feet.’ Quietus was enjoying himself.

‘All part of the plan,’ Hadrian assured them. ‘Although I wonder whether next time I ought to throw the horse at them and stay on the other side of the jump myself!’

Trajan snorted again. ‘Might be wiser, my boy. Now dust yourself off. The Games are over and we must return to formalities while the light lasts.’ He tapped with his heels and rode off towards the big tribunal.

‘Oh look, they have found your proud steed.’ Quietus nodded at a soldier leading the animal by the reins. ‘Come along then.’ He set off after the emperor, without any visible signal to his horse and without bothering to wait. Praesens had appeared, his face making clear that he was happy someone else had drawn attention away from his own modest performance. He gave a faint smile, then noticed that the emperor and Quietus were now some way off.

‘Sir?’ A trooper was offering to take Praesens’ shield from him. The legatus frowned until he understood and let the man have it. He glanced back at Hadrian, who was nuzzling the head of his horse, and decided not to wait any longer so followed the others.

Hadrian felt a little sorry for the man, but only a little. He had known Praesens’ uncle when Laberius Maximus had been one of Trajan’s favourites. The old boy was a bluff, old-fashioned Roman, with a fine military record and a taste for army life much like the princeps himself. More than once he had acted as intermediary to Hadrian when Trajan was displeased. Then quite suddenly, Trajan came to distrust Laberius. The old man pleaded innocence – quite reasonably because it was true – but he had made a few unwise decisions, become associated with some questionable people and deeply incriminating evidence was discovered involving them and implicating him. Hadrian knew that this was all false, since he had arranged for the material to be made and found, and Laberius had done the wrong thing and lost his temper, saying things to the emperor which could never he unsaid. With great regret, Trajan sent his old friend into exile. Hadrian gained mild satisfaction in avenging himself on someone who had done him several bad turns. Far more important was the simple truth that everyone who fell from the top made room for those below.