‘What did the princess have to say?’ Ferox asked, to break his own chain of thought. Hadrian had made no mention of the contents of the message, and Ferox was tired of playing games.

Hadrian raised his thick eyebrows. Ferox had noticed that several of the acting governor’s senior staff also sported beards and wondered whether this was sycophancy or the start of a new fashion.

‘Ah yes, I have a bundle of letters for you from your wife. The messenger – who was not the first one to carry them, but had spoken to him – assured me that the queen and your children are in the best of health.’

‘The queen?’ Ferox asked. ‘Has that been approved?’

Hadrian tilted his head to one side as Romans did when they wanted to seem apologetic. ‘Ratification of the title is close, very close, although with the Lord Trajan here in the east and involved in sensitive diplomacy’—Ferox wondered how sensitive diplomacy could be when backed by 100,000 heavily armed soldiers, but did not interrupt—other matters may delay his approval. I am doing everything I can to remind him and ensure a successful outcome.’

Lying bastard, Ferox thought. Like Bran, he was spending too much time with Vindex. Still, it was good to have the old rogue beside him once more. Not long ago the temptation to dive back into a wine cup had grown very strong. Ferox suspected that if he did that again, then he might never come out. That would solve one problem, since Hadrian would not keep an unreliable agent and would not risk him talking, so thetatus. It would not help his family though and that was all that really mattered.

Hadrian rang a bell and a slave appeared almost instantly. ‘Felix, go to my quarters and fetch the package from the table by the window.’

The slave bowed. ‘My lord.’

‘Do not think that I did not notice that you said princess rather than queen,’ Hadrian said, turning back to Ferox. ‘There was a rolled pack of calfskin in the jar, and when treated properly it revealed letters. The code was the one we have agreed, and while I cannot tell you everything that was in it, Azátē states that she will soon be ready and is confident of success.’

‘How many men will she have?’ Ferox asked. ‘Did not strike me that the Nicopolitans were itching to admit a foreign army into their city. So she will need a good few reliable and well-led soldiers to take control of the citadel and one or both of the main gates.’

‘And how many hours were you in the city to form such a judgement?’ Ferox sensed that Hadrian very much wanted to believe. ‘Azátē claims to know her people and is adamant that she will do anything to avoid the proposed marriage. Her bodyguard of fifty men is utterly loyal to her and there are others from the noble families willing to support.’

‘So she says.’ Silures were well known for their ability to convey scorn and some of this transferred into Latin.