‘Indeed.’ Claudius Super sounded like a schoolmaster taking delight in demolishing the arguments of one of his pupils. ‘He looked a tall fellow, if not perhaps as big – or as German – as he seemed to you!’ Ferox had mentioned his suspicion, only to have it dismissed. ‘Damned barbarians, we shall have to go north and teach them a lesson. An iron hand’ – he held his clenched fist in front of him – ‘that is all these brigands understand, if only…’

Sulpicia Lepidina came out of the trees, her golden hair unpinned and hanging down around her shoulders. She wore a man’s tunic, far too large so that it was loose and baggy even though she had gathered it close around her waist with a soldier’s belt fastened as tight as it would go. It was a pale crimson and went down to her shins, so that only a little of the dark breeches she wore underneath were visible. She had on a man’s shoes, the thongs drawn tight to keep them on as well as possible. Behind her came the freedwoman, a heavy woollen cloak pulled tight around her.

Claudius Super bowed, Crispinus smiled and Cerialis inclined his head. Ferox stood and stared. Lepidina was slim and straight, gliding more than walking. She was also beautiful, her fair skin flawless, features delicate, and her large round eyes full of life and wit. She was dressed like a man and still looked like a goddess come to earth. Ferox could not understand why he had not noticed before, wondered how he had ever mistaken her for a slave and inwardly cringed at what he had said and done.

‘My lady, it is good to see you a little restored,’ Cerialis said, ‘but you should take my cloak as it may become cold.’

‘That is kind, my lord, and I thank you.’ Her voice was quite deep for a woman, yet still soft. She gestured to her servant and then called to Vindex. ‘We have prepared a poultice. Bind it tightly to your leg and keep it on for three days. Keep it damp as well.’

Claudius Super looked surprised at this concern, before muttering, ‘So kind,’ and smiling with indulgence as the maid helped the Brigantian tie up his leg. The shoulder wound was not so serious, as most of the force had been absorbed by his mail, but they insisted on dressing it as well.

‘Make sure that you keep it clean and bound up,’ the lady told the scout. ‘No need to coddle it. It will get stiff if you don’t use it at all.’

‘Thank you.’ Vindex smiled, something that always looked more like a leer as he bared his prominent teeth. ‘Your kindness is only matched by your beauty,’ he added in his own language.

No one else had spoken while they waited. Ferox avoided meeting the lady’s cold gaze.