There was a long silence around the table until Crispinus broke it. ‘Thank you, my dear Caecilius. That is wisdom indeed. And it is because of your wealth of experience and your expertise that we are so fortunate to have you. The noble Hadrian chose you himself, did you know that?’

Caius Caecilius grunted. ‘Good of him.’ His tone hinted that the average senator barely had the wit to put on his own shoes, let alone spot merit in an officer.

‘Quite so. We will all benefit from your knowledge. Still, for the moment this is more about considering possibilities, so that we can prepare for what may come, and may come very soon.’

‘Can you tell us any more, sir?’ Arrian asked. ‘You say that we may need to form a column and take the field at very short notice, and that speed could be essential, hence Rufus’ suggestion of reducing the rations.’ The tribune paid no heed to Caecilius’ obvious scorn. ‘Forgive me, but I am still a newcomer to Syria, and cannot guess at our purpose.’

‘Reasonable question, and I shall do my best.’ Crispinus was the only man standing, using his hands to gesture across the unrolled map. It was one fitted onto a scroll, easy to roll up, and representing the empire as a long, thin rectangle. ‘Now, where are we? Ah yes. Here is Antioch, Cyrrhus, Zeugma.’ He traced a rough line using a stylus. ‘The Lord Trajan, has gone from Zeugma to Samosata, and from there to Metilene and finally Satala, where the great army will concentrate. None of this is a secret, so feel free to write it on the latrine wall!’ There was dutiful laughter, except from Caecilius, who merely nodded.

‘Here is Armenia, where the pretender is at long last realising his peril.’

‘Nine legions on your doorstep will do that,’ Arrian whispered theatrically to the tribune sitting beside him.

Crispinus chuckled. ‘As you say. For generations the king of Armenia may only rule after his coronation has been approved by Rome. This fellow thought that this approval was unnecessary. He’s a Parthian, of course, most of them are after the true royal family devoted generations of concerted effort to exterminating itself. In itself, that does not matter, so long as he submits, and he may have left that too late. Come the spring, our legions will march into Armenia and he will surrender and face judgement or fight and be destroyed.’

‘Will that mean war with the Parthians?’ Rufus dared to ask.

‘Serve ’em right if it does,’ another centurion chipped in.

‘Don’t be a fool,’ Caecilius snapped. ‘Don’t speak lightly of the biggest war you’re ever likely to see. If there is a great war, then this is the way the Parthians will come, through here, on their way to Antioch and its riches. They’ve done it before, back in Antony’s day.’

Rufus tried not to giggle when the centurion beside him whispered, ‘And I bet the old bugger was there.’