‘What do you think I am suggesting? If indeed I am suggesting anything at all. I merely wished to try to explain to you why some of our tribe should choose to turn their backs on us, abandon their families and go and fight for Caratacus. We must try to understand what drives them to this if we are to resist such forces acting on the minds of others.’

‘Must we also reconsider our alliance with Rome?’ Tincommius asked quietly.

There was a stunned intake of breath as the other nobles wondered at the brash candour of Tincommius’ question. King Verica stared at him, and slowly a smile formed on his lips.

‘Why?’ Verica asked his kinsman. ‘Why would I want to reconsider?’

‘I’m not saying you would want to, I’m merely suggesting that we need to consider all the choices before us. That’s all . . .’ Tincommius’ voice tailed off as he became aware that all the other men were watching him closely.

‘For the sake of argument,’ Verica spoke in an even tone, ‘what choices do we think we have? I’d appreciate it if everyone here spoke his mind. We must have a thorough airing of all the possible positions, even if we decide against them at the end of the evening. So, Tincommius, what choices are there, in your . . . humble opinion?’

The young man knew he had been set up, and tried not to sound resentful when he spoke after a short pause to arrange his thoughts.

‘Sire, it’s obvious that the fundamental choice is between Caratacus and Rome. Neutrality is impossible.’

‘Why?’

‘Caratacus might respect our neutrality, because it would cost him nothing and it could only serve to frustrate Roman operations. Rome would never countenance our neutrality, since our lands sit astride the main lines of supply for the legions. So we must choose a side, sire.’

Verica nodded. ‘And so we have. The question is, my lords, have we chosen the right side? Will Rome win this war?’

The nobles reflected a moment, then Mendacus leaned forward on his elbows and cleared his throat. ‘Sire, you know that I’ve seen the legions fight. I was there at the Mead Way last summer, when they crushed Caratacus. No one can beat them.’

Verica smiled. Mendacus had been there, all right - fighting alongside Caratacus, as had some of the others in this room. Verica had been there as well, albeit on the other side of the river, with Tincommius. But that was all in the past. After his restoration, Verica, under orders from Narcissus, had exercised clemency and welcomed the rebel nobles back into his court. He had questioned the wisdom of this, but Narcissus had been adamant. The imperial secretary intended to set a wider example of Roman magnanimity. So Verica had returned their lands to the nobles and pardoned them. He glanced round the table, then back to Mendacus.

‘Unbeatable, you say?’