‘Little bloke, wasn’t he?’ one of the soldiers joked.

Ferox drew his gladius and in the same motion brought it so that the tip quivered an inch from Crispinus’ throat. ‘Drop the sword,’ he said.

‘Have you gone mad, centurion?’

Flaccus looked baffled.

‘My Lord Flaccus, I must ask you to place the noble Crispinus under arrest on charges of treason.’

‘What?’ Crispinus’ eyes flicked from side to side. ‘This is absurd.’

‘Drop the sword.’ Ferox pressed so that the tip of his gladius touched the skin of the tribune’s neck. ‘Drop it.’ Crispinus let the weapon fall.

‘What is the meaning of this?’ Flaccus was confused, but he gestured to one of the legionaries and the man came and took away the tribune’s sword.

‘I am acting on orders of the Legate Marcellus,’ Ferox said, his eyes fixed on Crispinus. ‘And I regret to say that the tribune has plotted with other senators to damage the majesty of the republic and our princeps, the glorious Trajan.’

The legionaries had all stopped and were watching and listening. Gannascus frowned and then shrugged, and his men sat on their horses showing only mild curiosity at the Romans talking in a language they did not understand.

‘You!’ Ferox nodded to one of the legionaries. ‘Get some rope and tie the tribune’s hands behind his back.’ The soldier looked at Flaccus, who waved a hand to show that he was to obey the order.

‘That is better,’ the centurion said, even though the man had not yet returned, for Crispinus held his arms down and waited meekly for the bonds. ‘Now I can lower my arm.’

Ferox stepped away and began to walk in a circle, waiting until he was behind Crispinus before he started to speak again. Two of the legionaries crouched down beside the dead priest, waiting for orders. One was next to Flaccus, another fetching the rope, and the last man, the one who had cut the dead priest’s corpse down, sat on his horse, watching.

‘The tribune wanted to start a war,’ Ferox began, ‘so he sent weapons and money to kings among the tribes, men who encouraged that fiend.’ He pointed his blade at the corpse. ‘With a priest preaching hatred and promising victory, the tribes were stirred up. He well knew that the garrisons up here are weak, so that we are seen as vulnerable as well as loathed. That’s never good.’

Ferox gave a thin smile. ‘When you look back it was really all so easy. The tribune had friends. He’s the son of a senator with lots of connections, and he is an up-and-coming man, someone to watch and someone well worth doing a favour to earn his gratitude. There is all that even before he helps break one emperor and raise up another. Plenty of people were eager to help the noble Crispinus. Some were already tied to him or his family.’