‘Yes, and I need everyone else to understand as well. If we are sent to do this task then we must succeed.’ The legatus beamed at his senior centurion. ‘That is another reason why you were chosen by Hadrian to join Hispana. He understands that you have served in more sieges than anyone else in the army.’

The others all looked at Caecilius. A primus pilus was always treated with respect, but none had realised that the man had such a distinguished record. He was old for his post, and that was another reason why Hadrian had sent him to Hispana. The ambitious and well-connected rose fast, whereas Caecilius had crawled inch by inch because he had no connections and not the right sort of luck to find them. He had languished for ten years in his last post, and all but given up hope of an appointment as primus pilus. Others saw him as well past his prime, and that was why he had been left behind when the vexillations were formed for the emperor’s coming campaign. In a sense that was another reason for choosing him: there was not anyone else available at short notice. Still Hadrian – and Crispinus – hoped that the joy of receiving the promotion would invigorate the man, making him grateful and all the more eager to show his talents.

Caecilius sniffed. ‘We haven’t succeeded in all of them.’ He shook his head. ‘Sieges are a mix of science, planning and the luck of the dice. You have to stack the odds as much as you can in your favour, take the pounding you’re bound to receive, and hope and pray that it all works out. Sometimes it does, sometimes… thetatus.’ He drew his finger across his throat. On army records the name of a soldier who died was annotated with a theta, and the Greek letter had spawned an army slang word.

Rufus had been sitting up, eagerness redoubled at the mention of sieges, for Crispinus knew the man was obsessed with engineering. Now he frowned until the man beside him whispered an explanation.

‘If we are prepared for a siege, then we won’t be able to move quickly,’ Arrian said, as if thinking aloud. ‘We’ll need engines, tools, and more supplies than for a short campaign. How much do you think we will need primus?’ Crispinus was surprised to hear him use the informal name for the senior centurion. The Bithynian was fitting into the army very well.

If Caecilius was offended at the presumption then he did not show it. ‘Can’t say. Can’t say much at all until I know much more about this place and its defences.’

‘Information is being gathered as we speak,’ Crispinus assured them.

‘Ferox?’ Caecilius’ suspicion and distaste were obvious.

‘And others. At the moment, I can only tell you a little. Nicopolis is not tiny, but not large. Perhaps three or four thousand inhabitants. It sits on a hill, and has walls of stone – old ones, it’s true, but once we are in it will be easy to maintain with a fairly small garrison.’