‘Well, centurion, you must have an opinion on our new governor,’ Sulpicia Lepidina asked. ‘Or are you not sufficiently learned for that either?’

Fortunata began to rub against him once more, and Ferox did his best to ignore her. ‘I would not presume to judge a former consul and my commander.’ The other officers nodded in agreement, even Claudius Super joining in.

‘However, I will say this. It will be a good thing to have a governor again. Many in the tribes see us as weak, and who can blame them.’ He warmed quickly to his theme and shifted in his seat so that he knocked Fortunata. ‘I am sorry, lady,’ he lied as she was forced to move away from him a little.

‘They live in mud huts, and yet they see us as weak?’ Crispinus spoke, eyes fixed on him, looking very alert and not like a man who had been eating and drinking for hours.

‘Why should they not? Tomorrow the cohorts celebrate Mons Graupius. When Agricola was legate we overran all the lands to the far north. A few years later we abandon them and withdraw more than a hundred miles. In the last decade a legion and many auxiliaries have been posted away. Most of the units we have left here are short of recruits and scattered in detachments here, there and everywhere. The tribes do not see a great army any more, but they do see tax collectors. The last governor died, the one before that was summoned home in disgrace by Domitian and executed.’

‘We do not speak that man’s name here,’ Cerialis cut in. Ferox assumed he meant the Emperor Domitian, whose name had been formally damned by the Senate and chiselled off every monument in the empire. On the other hand he might have meant Lucullus, the legate killed for letting a new lance be named after him. ‘And while this is very interesting, my friend,’ he continued, ‘it is once again business and not suitable for this gathering. So since I believe we have finished, I shall tell the slaves to clear away. Then, may I beg my lady wife will play and sing for us?’

A modest refusal, persistence from the husband, supported by the growing pleas from Crispinus, Brocchus and Claudius Super – the last almost shouting and clearly half drunk – and once the things were cleared away a stool was brought and with it a small lyre.

‘I am not sure this has travelled well,’ the lady said, picking up the instrument, ‘and setting up house has not given me much time to practise. That is apart from such minor interruptions as barbarian attacks!’ They laughed, Claudius Super red-faced and loud.

After some tuning and plucking a few chords, Sulpicia Lepidina began to play. The room went quiet, not simply from courtesy but because she was well trained and gifted. The tune was soft and mournful. Claudia Severa’s eyes soon were glassy in the flickering lamplight.