‘Sit beside him, my lord,’ a slave whispered, and Hadrian felt it best to obey.

‘Ah, cousin,’ Trajan said, as if bumping into Hadrian on the street.

‘I slipped and fell,’ Hadrian told him.

‘Clumsy, but no harm done. Let me help you up.’ Trajan got to his feet and reached down. As far as Hadrian could see this was not an act, and he had no memory of what had just happened. That was the only time he witnessed an attack, but the smooth coping of the two slaves made clear that this had happened before. Afterwards, he noticed that one of the pair was always at Trajan’s side, along with a second slave who appeared equally competent. No one said anything, not that there was any need, for Hadrian kept the secret. Certainly, the emperor’s behaviour did not change, and he took Hadrian with him to visit a number of other shrines. There were no more attacks, not even when one oracle gave an answer that, for all its opaque poetry, clearly meant that Trajan was not destined to return to Rome.

Hadrian was not sure how much the emperor understood. His eagerness for army camps and war was nothing new, but there seemed an urgency about it all. Trajan wanted a war, there was no doubt about that, for all the talk of negotiation. At the very least, if no one would fight him, then he would lead his armies to accept their submission in their own lands. There was more talk of Alexander at court than Hadrian remembered in the past.

Trajan was a man who revelled in weapons, drills, marches and campaigns. He was not someone to relish rest, let alone the gentler life of old age. Armenia was important, as it had been since the days of the divine Augustus, and there was justification for the emperor coming here to assert Rome’s dominance. Hadrian was sure that it was more than that. Whether aware of his sickness of not, Trajan resented oncoming age, and wanted to become young or feel young again by going off to war. For all the talk of setting an example, there was something undignified about a princeps joining in military exercises by riding and throwing javelins before a great crowd. Trajan’s health was failing and he might just overdo it one day while playing a game like that or sharing too many of the hardships on campaign.

Hadrian studied people, especially those who mattered, and felt that he was a good judge of character. Trajan was refusing to accept old age, and part of this was his utter unwillingness to mark out a successor. No other emperor had lived so long and ruled so long without showing clear favour to someone. He was friendly with plenty of senators, and praised and promoted men like Quietus. He had been nicer than he had for some time to Hadrian, but it went no further than that. Being called cousin was no real endorsement. The appointment as acting governor was a compliment and mark of faith, while also making clear that he did not want Hadrian by his side to share in the trials and glories of his campaigns. Nor did he want him in Syria for a longer spell. Hadrian wondered whether he had overdone his ‘but of course duty first, my lord’ act last year and his reluctance to leave his comfortable life in Athens.