‘Praise be to Zeus for his mercy,’ Arrian intoned. ‘Are they still mainly Britons?’

‘About half,’ Cerialis told him. ‘When we can, we send recruiting parties there. We have some Durotriges – though they will slump in the saddle whatever you do. Coritani, who are decent soldiers as long as you hound them, and a lot of Iceni and Trinovantes, who ride like centaurs and fight and drink like that as well!’

Arrian grinned. ‘No wedding feasts on this campaign then.’ Senior officers loved to show their wit about the old stories.

‘Best not. Those lads can get wild. Well, their grandfathers sacked three cities and wiped out half a legion – Crispinus’ famous Hispana in fact!’

‘Best not to mention that,’ Arrian suggested, as a tribune of the same legion.

Cerialis laughed again. ‘Probably not.’

‘Your lads will, whatever you say,’ Ferox told them.

‘Aye, they will at that. Even the Pannonians and Thracians and all the rest we have picked up along the way. There’s even a couple of Mauretanians we found somewhere – one carrying the vexillum of his turma and likely to rise further.’ As with most units, it was easier to draw new recruits from the closest source, which meant that the title of Gauls or Spaniards or Britons often meant very little. Cerialis’ ala was pretty unusual in keeping a core of men from its home province. ‘Aye, they will. Probably be a few fights.’ Cerialis sounded as if he quite relished the prospect. His own people, the Batavians, were widely admired as some of the toughest fighters in the army, but no one liked them very much and when there was no campaigning they quickly grew bored and tended to make trouble.

‘Speaking of Britannia and Britons, my dear Ferox,’ Cerialis said switching back to Latin and perhaps changing the subject as an excuse for this. ‘My wife and the younger children have travelled there to stay with the delightful Claudia Enica. They did not want to stay in Pannonia on their own, did not fancy Antioch – an unhealthy place if ever there was one – and could not come on campaign, so instead Sulpicia announced that she was off to visit her friend. Well, after all these years, I had enough sense not to argue. And even if you would have thought she’d had enough of wild places after our time at Vindolanda, she had decided and that was that. Women…’ Cerialis shook his head.

Sulpicia Lepidina was the prefect’s second wife, a woman of rare beauty and truly remarkable intelligence. She was clarissima femina, the daughter of a senator and former consul, if one who had then squandered the family fortune, aided by the lady’s brother, who as far as Ferox could see would have done the empire a great service if he had drowned himself when he was a boy. Cerialis’ ambition, the considerable wealth of his family, his favour with Trajan, combined with her family’s desperation had helped secure what was a remarkable match for him. The couple were happy, even though Cerialis was so keen to ape the behaviour of aristocratic Romans that he treated her like an ally instead of a lover. At Vindolanda he had bounced his numerous slave girls and frequented the brothel, and largely let his wife sleep alone.