‘He could be,’ Masclus replied without any hint of awkwardness. ‘The prefect is from the royal house of our people. We are soldiers of the Ninth Cohort, sworn to Rome and to our emperor and we will die to keep that oath. He commands us because he is the prefect, but he also has our loyalty because we are Batavi and he is our lord. Do you not also have a king?’

‘Aye, several of ’em.’

‘And you obey them as well as serving the emperor.’

‘It’s my chief who sends me, and he does that because his king tells him.’

It was not until late in the evening that Ferox had a chance to talk to Crispinus privately. ‘“Blood of king, blood of queen,”’ he said. ‘I have been blind. Cerialis is the king they want and the Lady Sulpicia his queen. It’s their blood they want to make the priest’s miracle.’ He went through all that he had learned about the ambush, once again telling the tribune about the attack and how the raiders had ignored better targets and only seemed to want the lady.

Crispinus was unsure. ‘He’s not really a king. Just an aristocrat of one tribe.’

‘You are thinking like a Roman, and not like an ambitious priest wanting to proclaim a great magic through the shedding of special blood. How many kings of any sort can be found among the Romans in this part of the world? No emperor has come to Britannia since Claudius.’

The tribune made up his mind. ‘I’ll write a letter and send one of the troopers back to Vindolanda. We cannot do much, but at least we can remind Flavius Cerialis to take every precaution for his own and his wife’s safety. Doubt they can do more than they are already doing, but it will do no harm.’

‘The greatest danger will come as Samhain approaches.’

‘Hopefully we shall be back by then.’ Crispinus patted him on the shoulder. ‘Good work. It would never have occurred to me. The more we understand these murderous bastards the more chance we have of stopping them. Get some rest. It’s another long ride tomorrow. And don’t worry. I’ll send the letter.’

XVI