Ferox did not remember, but perhaps he had said something like that.

‘If I leave now, and take my children with me – even if I leave a silly girl behind to play soldiers – then what does that say?’ She stared at him, her blue eyes looking very dark in the lamplight. ‘It will tell them that you do not really believe after all, and that perhaps they are doomed and then that slender thread of hope snaps and cannot be repaired. What are all our chances then? Like it or not, you need us here. And I know my duty.’ Lepidina sighed. ‘There is something about you Flavius Ferox that always makes me sound like a schoolmaster lecturing a thick-headed boy.’

‘Sounds about right,’ Claudia said. ‘But even the dullest must see wisdom in the end when so patient a teacher explains. And you once told me, husband, that men without spirit will never win.’

‘I never realised I talked so much,’ he said, knowing that he had lost because they were right.

‘You do,’ Claudia Enica said. ‘When you are not sunk in sullen silence you prattle away like… well like a certain beautiful young queen.’

‘Hardly that, my dear,’ Lepidina said fondly. ‘Hardly that.’

Privatus interrupted them. ‘Excuse me, my lady, but you did ask me to interrupt. Young Marcus is not sleeping and the girl is worried about him.’

‘He had a fever earlier,’ Lepidina explained, seeing Ferox’s concern. She was already on her feet. ‘Not a great worry, but I had better take a look and see what I can do. You will excuse me, won’t you?’

Ferox stood up out of respect. ‘Of course, lady.’

‘She is right, husband, as she usually is,’ Claudia said when they were alone again. The food was long since finished and although the slaves would appear soon enough to clear away once they called, none waited inside the room.

‘I know, wife. Or should it be queen?’ Ferox remained on his feet. Claudia Enica stretched out on her couch, the silk dress spreading over her like liquid as her legs moved.

‘It should be both.’ She rested her chin on her hands to watch him. ‘And it should be my lady, and my love and my mistress. Or to put that in the silver-tongued speech of the prince of the Silures turned centurion of Rome, something like this.’ She grunted loudly. ‘Does that sound about right?’

Ferox shrugged. ‘I have always thought my voice a little sweeter than that, but close enough.’ He went over to her couch and sat beside her. ‘Words have never come easily, not when I am with you.’

Claudia Enica turned to lie on her side facing him, one elbow on the raised end of the couch to support her head.

‘Oh, it’s my fault, is it?’

‘In a way, yes. You overwhelm me – you always have.’

‘You sound like Caesar – “And the Belgae attacked their country, laying waste to the tribe’s lands.”’