It occurred to Vespasian that any child brought up in a military garrison was going to pick up a rather wider vocabulary than was deemed appropriate in the polite social circles of Rome.

‘That boy,’ he continued after a moment, ‘has quite a bite on him.’

‘But that’s good.’

‘It is?’ Vespasian looked down with raised eyebrows at the small teeth-shaped crescent on the back of his hand.

‘Show’s he’s got strength of character.’ Flavia pressed the still struggling boy down into the cot and drew the cover up over his body.

‘Shows he’s got sharp teeth,’ her husband muttered.

With a last whine, Titus succumbed to a child’s sense of routine and turned over on to his stomach, closed his eyes and, with a few meaningless mumbles spoken softly into his mattress, fell asleep. Both parents gazed down at him for a moment, wondering at the peaceful, perfectly rounded shape of his face, the final twitches of his curled fingers in the flickering glow of the oil lamps.

Someone hammered on the door. Titus stirred, eyes flickering open for a moment.

‘Who the hell?’

‘Just shut them up quickly,’ Flavia hissed. ‘Before they wake Titus.’

Vespasian opened the door on to the courtyard and was confronted by the duty centurion and a shivering legionary.

‘Sir!’ the centurion barked in best parade-ground manner. ‘Beg to report…’

‘Shhh! Keep your voice down. My boy’s asleep.’

The centurion stood open-mouthed for a second, before he managed to force himself to continue in a whisper. ‘Beg to report a fire.’

‘A fire. How big a fire? Where?’

‘In the direction of the forest, sir, towards the Rhine.’

Vespasian eyed the man impatiently. ‘And you think that’s worth disturbing me for?’

‘This sentry says it’s a big fire, sir.’

‘Big? How big?’

‘Dunno, sir,’ the legionary replied. ‘Can’t see the fire as such, sir. Just a glow, on the horizon like.’

A nasty thought struck the legate. ‘Third cohort back yet?’

‘No, sir.’ The centurion shook his head. ‘No sign of them.’

‘Right, I’m coming. You’re dismissed.’

Flavia crossed over to him in small, quiet steps. ‘Trouble?’

‘Possibly. I’m just going to check. I’ll be back soon. You get to bed.’

===OO=OOO=OO===

When Vespasian reached the tower above the eastern gate the parapet had already disappeared under a softly curved layer of snow. Beyond the fortress wall, a dull white landscape stretched out towards the distant fringe of the forest, only dimly visible through the swirling snow. Nevertheless, the duty centurion had been right to summon him; an orange glow reflected off the clouds beyond the tree-line. That had to be quite a fire, Vespasian mused. Moreover, a fire directly in line with the local German settlement.

He turned back to the duty centurion. ‘Still no sign of Vitellius?’

‘Nothing, sir.’

Worrying, most worrying. Yet what trouble could Vitellius have led the Third cohort into? According to the latest intelligence reports there was little indication of any rebellious sentiment brewing amongst the locals. Still, the cohort should have returned to base by now. And the intensity of the distant glow indicated a sizeable fire. Vespasian considered the damage his reputation would suffer if he sounded the alarm too easily, all too clearly visualising the mocking laughter of his men. But the thought was no sooner in his head than he quickly dismissed it. His pride came a poor second to his feeling of responsibility to the men of the Legion. He turned back to the duty centurion.