It was probably too late to expect Trajan to mark him down as closest relative and heir. The emperor was not going to face his responsibility as princeps and admit that his life would end. Apart from that, Hadrian had always known that deep down Trajan simply did not like him. So his path must be a different one. The empress liked him a lot, and he must take every chance to cultivate her while she was in the east. Yet he needed more, for he needed to make himself a plausible – indeed the most plausible – candidate for that moment when the emperor dropped dead and senators wanted the stability of a new princeps as soon as possible. Time was running out. He had spoken to physicians, albeit very discreetly, describing the symptoms as if they were his own. The men blustered as physicians always did, but the clear consensus was that the attacks would get worse and eventually lead to permanent paralysis and death unless he rested and made the right offerings.

Time was short, and he needed a victory, and there was Nicopolis with its appropriate name, and some omens were too clear to ignore. Like Trajan, Hadrian craved a campaign and a success, whether bloodless or gruelling. All that mattered was to win. He feared Ferox was right and that it would not be easy. Either way it must be soon. Sosius said that he had found a man able to reach the princess. The freedman had his doubts about the fellow, so the message would need the most careful wording as well as the usual code. Sosius would go to Nicopolis – the man had a knack of surviving and the risk was worth it. Hadrian would tell Azátē that it must be soon or never.

VIII

The camp of VIIII Hispana

One day before the Nones of April

READY OR NOT, there was no more time left, so the trumpets sounded two hours before dawn, and, to make sure, the tesserarii went through each barrack room, banging something loud and brass and bawling at the legionaries to wake. Men muttered and growled, and a few hurled insults from the shadows, as they hauled themselves out of warm bedding. The legionaries dressed and got their equipment ready, and each contubernium prepared a meal.

When the trumpets sounded for the next hour, Crispinus knew that they were running late. By this time, they were supposed to have taken down the tents, starting with his own and the other tent acting as a principia. Having spent the best part of two months camped here, and given the season, the men had made little huts with dry-stone walls and used their leather tents as roofing. He knew plenty had gone further, packing earth tightly to make a table in the centre and firm bases for their bedding. A few optimists had even begun to cultivate little gardens in the space outside and watched as the shoots started to grow. That made it all the more of a wrench to leave, especially as even the rumour mill had soon dismissed the story that they were to take over the permanent fortress at Zeugma now that its legion had marched to join the emperor. They were going to Zeugma, it was true, but after that no one was quite sure. Perhaps that made them even more hesitant to set out.