‘But no more than that?’

‘No, sir.’

Vespasian’s mood lightened slightly. ‘Right then, we can cope with that. It’s a pain in the arse, and it’ll delay my advance, but that can’t be helped. We’ll deal with the Durotrigans first.’

‘Ah . . .’ Quintillus looked up with an anxious expression. ‘I’m afraid there’s a little complication, sir.’

Vespasian’s lips compressed into a thin, tight line for a moment as he resisted the impulse to give the tribune a stiff bollocking. Then he said quietly, ‘What kind of a complication would that be, Tribune?’

‘There’s a small element amongst the Atrebatans that want to side with the enemy, and take the tribe with them. They’re the ones behind the attack on Verica.’

‘I see.’ The situation was far worse then. Even if Calleva had fallen to the Durotrigans they would be swiftly ousted by Vespasian’s legion, and the situation stabilised. But if the entire tribe could be persuaded to turn against Rome then not only would the Second Legion be in grave danger, but also General Plautius and the other three legions.

Vespasian silently cursed this tribune. Unless he acted at once, to defeat the Durotrigans and remove those Atrebatan noblemen conspiring against Rome, there was every chance that the Emperor would lose nearly twenty thousand legionaries, and as many auxiliary troops. Augustus had managed to survive the loss of General Varus and three legions. Just. But Augustus had firmly established his grip on the legions and the empire. Claudius enjoyed no such legitimacy, and would almost certainly be swept from power in the aftermath of such a terrible military defeat. What future could there be for Rome then? Vespasian felt himself in the cold grip of dark fears at such a prospect . . .

He suddenly realised that he had not heard the tribune’s last words. ‘Pardon?’

‘I said, we’ll need to deal with them as well, sir - the Atrebatan traitors.’

‘No doubt.’ Vespasian nodded. ‘If Verica dies, who’s to succeed him?’

‘Well, there’s another problem, sir.’

This time there was no concealing his frustration and Vespasian slammed his hand down on the desk. He glared at Quintillus, gently rapping his knuckles on the wood. With forced equanimity he nodded at the tribune. ‘Go on.’

‘The nobleman who attacked him - Artax - was Verica’s heir.’

‘This Artax, he’s taken the throne?’

‘No, sir. He was discovered in the act by Centurion Macro and Centurion Cato. He was killed on the spot.’

‘So the succession to Verica is open, then?’ said Vespasian. ‘Who’d be best suited to succeed him from our point of view?’

The tribune answered directly. ‘Verica’s nephew seems the best bet; Tincommius. I persuaded the king’s council to choose him to be Verica’s heir after Artax was killed. ‘

‘What’s this Tincommius like?’