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rather thin selection of overpriced and underwhelming whores on offer, I was taking my pick of the female servants in a nice warm kitchen, once I’d eaten my fill. And, I’ll remind you, I get to know where we’re going long before it filters down to your level.’
    He paused, looking at the chests in their orderly line along the quayside.
    ‘So I’ll tell you this for nothing: from my experience of senior officers, the way those two invited our boy for a private chat, there’s no way we’re going to be strolling back to whatever dunghill it is you’re keen to get back to any time soon.’
    Prefect Castus looked at his colleague with an expression which very clearly communicated that his part of the briefing was at an end.
    ‘As I told you, Fulvius Sorex, Rutilius Scaurus has lost neither his perceptive abilities nor his direct manner in the last ten years. I suggest you enlighten him as to our purpose in coming here.’
    Sorex nodded, stepping forward.
    ‘Yes, that’s astute of you, Rutilius Scaurus. We could indeed have sent a junior officer to bring you the latest news, which means, as you have already surmised, that your presence here presents us with something of an opportunity.’
    Marcus spoke, his voice suitably respectful despite the question’s sharp edge.
    ‘It’s more than that, isn’t it, Tribune? We present you with the only means possible to get something done, something you judge to be vital?’
    Scaurus stared at the young centurion for a moment before turning back to Sorex with a disarming smile.
    ‘Forgive my aide his temerity, colleague, he does have the tendency to speak out of turn when something occurs to him, although on this occasion I suspect he’s cut to the heart of the matter. Do continue, Centurion Corvus.’
    The young centurion spoke again, his voice clear and hard in the barrack’s silence.
    ‘From what you’ve said, Tribune, every other military unit in the whole northern military zone is under orders to hold position, orders with all the weight of the throne behind them. The sort of orders that a man disregards at the risk of his career, his life and even his family’s lives, if he miscalculates badly enough. And here we are, as if sent by our Lord Mithras himself, the answer to your prayers for a force of men big enough to do whatever it is you think needs doing, and not subject to the restrictions placed upon your freedom of action by Prefect Perennis.’
    In the young centurion’s mouth the praetorian prefect’s name become something akin to an expression of hatred, spat from between bared teeth with the vehemence of a man ridding his mouth of venom sucked from a snake bite. Scaurus spoke quickly, taking back the focus of attention, his voice deliberately breezy.
    ‘My man Corvus has the measure of it, I suspect. So what is it that needs doing so badly that you’ve both come all this way to meet a pair of travel-weary auxiliary cohorts off the boat from Germania Inferior?’
    Sorex leaned forward, lowering his voice in spite of their privacy in the barrack.
    ‘Sixth Victorious is a legion with unfinished business, Tribune Scaurus. We lost an eagle in the first days of the northern tribes’ rebellion, and with it the head of Legatus Equitius’s predecessor Sollemnis, both lost in an ambush sprung north of the wall by a tribal leader called Calgus—’
    Scaurus waved a dismissive hand.
    ‘Don’t trouble yourself with the history lesson, colleague. The centurions here both fought in that battle, and witnessed your legion’s betrayal by one of your predecessors, although I expect his part of the disaster has been quietly forgotten since then, given who his father was.’ He paused and waited for Sorex to acknowledge the open secret that it was the praetorian prefect’s son who had orchestrated the Sixth Legion’s disastrous losses for his own ends. ‘Centurion Corvus was part of the fruitless hunt for the legion’s lost eagle, and all three of us