Ferox sighed, and kept a straight face, for he was the commander and must act as priest, but it was hard. The painted goddess stared back at him, unsmiling with its flowing red hair. Back on the night of the Brigantes’ festival, when all of them were drunk and their generosity with wine and beer meant that so was almost the entire garrison, someone had got into the aedes and tampered with the flag. Gone was most of the figure’s dress, and the painter had given the goddess bare and very large breasts.

‘I doubt that she would be able to stand up straight,’ Claudia Enica had said when she was shown the damage.

‘You manage, my queen,’ Vindex suggested.

‘The Carvetii are an insolent folk,’ she had said, shaking her head in mock reproof, ‘and vile of tongue.’ She had also refused to have the additions painted over. ‘We don’t want to weigh the poor girl down with layer after layer.’

So the bare-breasted goddess stayed, although Ferox had never seen any other unit in the army with such a standard. Piso had almost choked in surprise when he saw it after demanding to inspect the entire base.

The tribune had woken with a raging temper, perhaps in part because of his sore head. He had no memory of how it had happened, and indeed had to have it explained why he was in hospital at all. More surprisingly he seemed to have little interest in investigating the matter. Snarling at the medicus, Piso had insisted that he was fine and got up that first day. Since the effort did not kill him, perhaps he was right, and by the next morning he was demanding an escort to take him to Sarmizegethusa as intended. Ferox argued, although not with great passion. Perhaps once or twice he had wished to have a superior officer present so that the responsibility passed to someone else, but the mood had not lasted. For all the dangers – in fact because of all the dangers and all that was at risk – he was determined to be in charge. Added to that, the little he had heard about the tribune made him eager to be rid of the man.

That opinion was confirmed on the next day, when Ferox led out a hundred and fifteen horsemen in addition to the twenty allotted to escort Piso all the way to the garrison at Decebalus’ stronghold. If the tribune was to be killed, Ferox preferred to make clear that it was not through any lack of care or precaution on his part. Enica did not come, although the bulk of the men he led were her Brigantes, and he gathered that she had no enthusiasm for the tribune’s company.

Piso said little during the long ride up the valley, and Ferox got the distinct impression that the man had no interest in anything that a mere centurion could say. Sabinus was with them, and tried to engage the tribune in conversation, most often talking about I Minervia, but the responses were brief and surly so that after a while he lapsed into silence and found plenty of reasons to ride back down the column to check on the men. Unlike many aristocrats, Piso did not enjoy the sound of his own voice sufficiently to crave any audience at all. He expressed surprise at the size of the whole force.