‘There are the galearii – they will double the numbers.’

The struggle not to point out that the army slaves were poorly trained and unprepared for any serious fighting was plain on the tribune’s face.

‘We are not at war, are we?’ Hadrian asked.

‘No, sir, but the Roxolani tend to be thick on the ground at this time of year. They are thieves, my lord, and utterly brazen when they are tempted and believe the pickings to be easy.’

Well done, for seeing the threat, Hadrian thought to himself, his opinion of Marcius steadily improving. ‘But I cannot spare you to go,’ he said out loud and enjoyed the shock on the man’s face. ‘Nor an escort commensurate with your rank. Nor can I spare even a centurion and a couple of hundred legionaries. The bridge is what matters more than anything else and we must get it finished.’ That was an excuse he was using a lot, for he had taken it upon himself to see that the work was done. Apollodorus resented his involvement, but was glad of the fresh impetus and increase in the labour force. Hadrian had even persuaded the governor to send more troops, including half of the men from Legio I Minervia currently at Viminiacum.

‘Still,’ Hadrian went on. ‘I am pleased with your diligence and willingness to speak up. Find a reliable cavalryman to carry a message to Piroboridava with all haste. I shall order Ferox to lead a strong force out so that they can meet the convoy half way and protect it on the rest of the journey. Does that satisfy you?’

‘Of course, my lord,’ Marcius said, lying reasonably convincingly in the circumstances. It was no real solution, for the convoy would be on its own for two or three days given the slow plod of the draft oxen.

‘Risks sometimes cannot be avoided, and unless we could find several hundred spare soldiers we could not make them absolutely safe. We have not the men available, and even if we had they would need to eat on the journey, which would mean adding another twenty mules or a couple of carts because they would all need to come back.’ Hadrian was exaggerating, but only a little. ‘The more men we add the slower they will all go and the more food is wasted on the journey. And if we add a handful it will not make any real difference should there be an attack. … But I do not think there will be any attack, for the Roxolani would not take the risk of punishment. They will know that Ferox has a fair few cavalrymen, and that it would be hard to make off with waggons and not be caught.’

‘Yes, sir.’ Marcius’ face was wooden, and Hadrian could not blame the man at all. The flaws in all that he had said were obvious to anyone with a little sense and experience, and the tribune had both.

‘It is a risk, but soldiering has a lot of risks,’ Hadrian said blandly, and knew he must sound like a fool. This was a gamble and a deliberate one, based on how he felt people behaved, and especially barbarians. Added to that was Ferox’s account of his visit to the Roxolani and his comments on where their loyalty lay. The convoy and its escort might well be one of the houses he had to pull down to stop the fire from spreading, a prize too tempting and too weak for the Sarmatians to resist. If not, then the food would reach Piroboridava and give the garrison a greater chance of holding out for a long time if there was a siege. ‘But make sure that the trooper who takes the letter to Ferox understands how important it is that he gets there quickly. That ought to give them time to put together a column and meet the convoy in plenty of time.’