‘You married, tribune?’ Cerialis asked.

‘No. Perhaps in a year of two.’ Arrian did not sound especially keen. ‘I like the freedom.’

Cerialis was sympathetic. ‘Well, that’s duty for you. But being a father is wonderful. I’ve four children, you know. Three boys and the eldest almost a man now and looking to his career.’

Ferox knew that Cerialis was a good as well as a proud father. He also knew that the third boy was not the prefect’s child, but his own. He had met Sulpicia Lepidina in strange circumstances, saved her life, rescued her from pirates in a series of adventures that sounded as if they had come from one of those ridiculous Greek novels. He had also fallen in love, and more to his amazement so had she. Their affair was brief, and Cerialis never seemed to guess what was happening, accepting the boy as his own and loving him as much as the others. The more Ferox came to know the man, the more it all bothered him, even if the few moments with Sulpicia were sweet memories. For her, for his son, and because he had wronged Cerialis, he would always do anything he could to protect them all. That was another reason why he had to obey Hadrian and go where he was sent. Somehow Crispinus had guessed and Hadrian had learned and used the information. Ferox did not doubt that the man would not hesitate to make the story public and that meant exile for Sulpicia Lepidina – and for him, but he was pretty much living that in the first place. Cerialis would be disgraced and humiliated, his children suffering, and young Marcus becoming an outcast if he was not killed.

‘A man should marry,’ Cerialis assured Arrian. ‘Freedom is all very well, but when you have children everything you achieve feels like it is for them. With a princeps like Trajan, they can become anything – anything at all. Hmm, I am off again. Never let a proud father start talking about his children or there will be no end to it!

‘Marry, my dear Arrian, that is my advice. Women like marrying soldiers, even if they never think about what that means. So we all secure beauties we’d never get otherwise – I mean, look at Ferox!’

‘I’d rather not.’

‘Don’t blame you. But you should meet his wife! Stylish, elegant, well-educated and as fair of form as he is – how shall I put it – distinctive? A queen as well.’

‘This is indeed an age of wonders,’ Arrian declared. ‘A queen? Well bless me.’

Ferox did not bother to say that Rome was still to approve the rank. Sulpicia Lepidina and Claudia Enica were old and dear friends, with no secrets, so his wife knew all about the affair – in surprisingly great detail – as well as young Marcus.

‘I said it is a wonder that you are all the way out here rather than back home,’ Arrian repeated after Ferox ignored him.