Sulpicia Lepidina supplied the clue to one of the guest’s favourite foods, while Privatus had heard of this from one of the legatus’ staff and was able to offer the recipe. Thus, Philo was able to watch as the slaves carried a tray to place in front of each couch. Apparently it was called tetrafarmacum, and he prayed that they had put in the right mix of ham, pheasant and sows udders and baked the pastry as it should be. The whole mixture was outlandish and the name had puzzled Privatus until Philo wondered whether it was meant as a joke at the expense of the Epicureans, and Sulpicia Lepidina had nodded in approval.

Philo stood apart from the diners, and part of him enjoyed the sheer responsibility of presiding over the occasion, directing the slaves and arranging every detail like a general with an army. Once Indike passed him, carrying a small jug of sauce to garnish the meats, and as she passed she pressed his hand for a moment and smiled. It was going well, but the ‘battle’ was not yet won and the ‘enemy’ willing to acknowledge that they had been well entertained.

They had lamps on high brass stands, but not too many. Overzealous efforts to clean the walls on the part of one of the new slaves had smeared the paintings and broken off whole pieces of plaster. As a result, one nymph had only one leg left to her, while in the scene where a shepherd surprised another group of nymphs bathing, he no longer had a head, which may have helped to explain their distress. Nearby a city appeared to have suffered an earthquake, so much had fallen away. The shadows offered some protection, and only one of the guests had commented so far. For a timber fort this was a decent enough dining room, even if it could not compare to some of the ones in the stone houses in forts they had visited on the long journey from Britannia. This room was a good size, had a flagstone floor, plaster walls, and just one high window, the window closed and shutters drawn to keep out the noises and odours of the fort. Yet it had not been well maintained, and the painted walls were cracked and had damp patches even before they were attacked in an effort to clean. Nor was the place ideal, for the ceiling was lower than it should be, so that the music of the lyre player and even the diners’ conversations echoed uncomfortably.

There were eight guests, for the ninth place was reserved for Ferox, should he have appeared in time. Philo was relieved that he had not arrived at the last moment, no doubt filthy from travel and truculent in his refusal to be made acceptable for the occasion. The two ladies sat, one on either side of Hadrian, for one was a senator’s daughter and the other in a sense their hostess. Apart from that, Hadrian appeared to enjoy their conversation, no doubt because both were well able to make themselves entertaining. Sabinus, Dionysius and the senior decurion were on one couch, and Piso and an equestrian tribune from I Minervia on the third. Hadrian had sent word that this was to be the seating order, and this had been his only intervention. Piso was the one who had seen the headless shepherd and pointed it out to the other diners.