When the steward had left them the king silently raised his head towards the gleaming moon for a moment before he addressed his guests. When he began there was a great weariness in his voice.

‘I’ll speak mostly in my tongue, since what I have to say affects my kinsman Artax more than anyone else. Centurions Macro and Cato are here because they have earned my gratitude and, more importantly, my trust. The tribune is present because he represents General Plautius. Centurion Cato, do you have enough of our tongue to translate for your Roman companions?’

‘I think so, my lord.’

Verica frowned. ‘Be sure that you do. I want no misunderstanding over what I am about to say. You will all bear witness to my wishes this night, and I task you all to honour them in the coming months. Understand me, Centurion?’

‘Yes, my lord. If there’s any doubt, then Tincommius can help me with the translation.’

‘So be it. Now explain this to the others.’

After Cato finished translating this exchange to Macro the latter leaned close to whisper. ‘What’s going on, lad?’

‘I’ve no idea.’

Verica lowered his head and gazed into his lap. ‘I’ve had a strange feeling these last few days. I sense that my death is imminent. I’ve even had a dream: Lud came to claim my spirit . . . during tomorrow’s hunt.’

He looked up at his listeners, as if seeking a response, but none came. What could a man say to a king who voiced intimations of his own mortality? For Cato, more used to the ready assumption of divine status by the three emperors he had lived under, there was something very touching about Verica’s admission. Perhaps he feared death as much as other men. It would be unconscionably crass to offer any reassurance that the king need not fear death. That was the sort of remark best left to the most obsequious of men; the sort of remark that almost any senator in Rome could be relied upon to make loudly and publicly should anyone voice any doubts that the current Caesar would be with them for ever.

‘Sometimes a dream is merely a dream, my lord,’ said Quintillus in a comforting tone. ‘I’m sure the gods are determined to bless the Atrebatans with many more years of your rule.’

‘Whose gods, Tribune? Yours or ours? I’m sure that I’ve done quite enough to appease the great Jupiter in recent months, but at what cost to the gods of my people?’

‘As long as Jupiter is content, then you need fear no other god, my lord.’

‘Really, Tribune?’

‘Of course. I’d stake my life on it.’

Verica smiled. ‘Let’s hope you, and your two centurions, don’t have to do anything quite so dangerous in the coming days.’