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I nodded. ‘Very well. Come on, Arlina!’ And I applied my switch. There was a faint moan from Tenuis as we lurched off again, but that — apart from his involuntary squeak where the path was particularly steep and dangerous — was the only sound he uttered till we reached the city walls.

‘Are we there?’ he muttered, as we shambled to a stop outside the gate and I realised that he must have had his eyes tight shut again.

‘Not quite,’ I told him. ‘But you can get down from the mule. We’ll walk her through the town. It’s not illegal to take an animal. The law is only for horse-drawn vehicles. Although it’s probably better to …’ But I was talking to myself. He had already ducked under my restraining arm and slithered to the ground.

‘I’m on my feet again! I never enjoyed just standing up so much!’ He looked up at me with such an expression of relief that I didn’t have the heart to offer a rebuke. ‘Can I help you to get down as well, master?’ he added as an obvious afterthought.

I shook my head. I wasn’t sure that he was tall or strong enough to be of any use. ‘Just hold the mule,’ I answered. ‘I can manage well enough.’

This boast proved to be not altogether true. I used to be a skilful horseman in my youth, but I am old and stiff these days and Arlina’s inclined to be contrary, anyway. So my descent was awkward and undignified — much to the amusement of the sentry at the gate. I turned my back on him and ostentatiously smoothed my tunic down, trying to look as self-composed as possible. But as I bent forward to straighten out my hems, I suddenly noticed how small my shadow fell on the wall.

I straightened up at once. ‘Dear Mercury, the sun is nearly overhead. It must be almost noon!’ I said to Tenuis. ‘And my workshop’s right at the other end of town. I don’t think I’ve got time to get my toga first. I’ll have to take a chance on calling at the garrison dressed like this. If I explain that I’m here on Marcus’s behalf, they might let me talk to the commander straight away.’ I gestured with my hand towards the military compound just inside the gate.

Tenuis looked where I was pointing. And boggled, visibly. ‘You really think they’ll let you in there, master?’ he murmured, wide-eyed with disbelief.

I attempted not to preen. There is only a small garrison detachment based at Glevum now, and it does not occupy as much of Glevum as it did — most of its former land is occupied by private tenements and public buildings. But what remains is still impressive. Only the front section was visible from here, no more than the guard tower and the nearest barracks block, peeping over the enclosure, but Tenuis had clearly never seen anything like it in his life. ‘I’ve been there several times,’ I told him self-importantly. ‘I’m sure if I explain to the gatehouse who I am-’

‘I shouldn’t bother, tradesman.’ I was interrupted by the sentry, who had come across to us, making no pretence that he’d not been listening. ‘The garrison’s been turning all visitors away, except for the town council who’ve been turning up in droves.’ He tapped his nose. ‘There’s obviously something important happening. We’ve had imperial messengers dashing in and out since dawn.’ He spoke indulgently, as though he were dealing with an innocent buffoon — no doubt the result of my ungainly exhibition while getting off the mule earlier. ‘And there hasn’t been a route march or shield practice for the day.’

I frowned at him, still prickling. ‘That’s most unusual.’

‘I know it’s unusual, tradesman. That’s why I’m telling you.’ He said it sharply. All the former friendliness had disappeared.

I instantly regretted giving way to pique. I tried my most con-spiratorial smile. ‘Some preparations for the Imperial Birthday Feast, do you think? Or has the Provincial Governor decided to make a visit to the town?’

But I’d affronted him and he turned impatiently away. ‘Don’t ask me, tradesman, because that is all I know. I’ve been stuck here for hours supervising travellers in and out of town. Nobody tells the gate-guard anything. I don’t suppose I’ll find out any more till I am relieved.’

‘Well, I’ll try my luck at the garrison anyway. The commander knows me. I expect they’ll let me in. If I do learn anything I’ll come and let you know. Come, Tenuis,’ and I took the leading-rope from the astounded boy.

The soldier shrugged and stood aside to let us through the gate, ‘Don’t say I didn’t warn you.’ He stood, hands balanced on hips and watched us through the gateway to the town.

I tried to ignore him and walked stoutly on. Once we reached the entry to the nearby mansio — the military inn — I turned to Tenuis. ‘You stay here with the mule. I’ll talk to the man on duty at that entrance over there.’ I thrust the mule’s leading rope at him, then went on to the gatehouse of the garrison.

It was obvious at once that the sentry at the town gate was right. There was something unusual happening. It is never easy to see inside the fort — the wall around is built to keep out spectators — but through the gateway I could see the stretch of road which led past the barrack-block, and the main administration block and guard tower just inside the gates. Through the central arch I could glimpse the inner court which sometimes functioned as a muster ground. But there were no soldiers gathered there today. Instead the town’s most senior councillors seemed to be having a conclave in the open air. I craned my head to get a better look.

A bulky figure in full armour moved to block my view. ‘What are you staring at, tradesman? What’s your business here?’ A burly soldier in the distinctive sideways crest of a centurion was confronting me. I knew several of the senior soldiery by now, but I didn’t recognise this one — though I knew the type. It was written in the strutting swagger and the sneering upper lip. He was a big, ugly fellow with a broken nose and a pair of unusually narrow squinting eyes, which were looking at my tunic with undisguised contempt. But a full centurion on humble gate-duty? That was a surprise. So was the drawn sword he was grasping in his hand.

‘Well, fellow?’ he bellowed, raising the blade slowly until its tip was pointing at my neck.

‘My name is Longinus Flavius Libertus,’ I told him, though my voice came out a squeak. The three full Roman names denote a citizen, and in normal times would earn a little more respect, but it isn’t easy to sound lofty when there’s a sword-point at your throat. ‘I am a Roman citizen,’ I bleated. ‘And I have an urgent message for the commander of the garrison.’ It did not sound convincing, even to myself.

The eyes did not falter in their disdainful glare, but the sword-point was lowered an inch or two, so that it merely pointed at my ribs. ‘Citizen, is it? You don’t look much like a citizen to me. So Longinus What-ever-your-name-is, unless you have a warrant with the imperial seal-’ he raised a mocking supercilious brow at me ‘-and I assume you don’t, then you will have to wait. The commander’s busy and he’s not to be disturbed. Come back some other time.’

‘But-’

‘No buts! You heard me. Now, disappear, and make it quick.’

‘The commander knows me. I’m sure he would see me if he knew it was me.’ I knew that I was sounding desperate. ‘Call somebody and ask him. It’s about my patron, Marcus Septimus.’

The name, for once, had no effect at all. ‘I will call someone in a minute, certainly.’ The fleshy lips were drawn back in an unpleasant smile, revealing a row of yellow pointed teeth. ‘But it won’t be to ask the commander anything. It will be to march you inside and lock you in a cell. The commander is busy. I have told you that. He’s not receiving anyone today. So make your mind up, citizen — if that is what you are. Are you going to go on standing there demanding an audience, or can you understand what’s good for you? Go away. And that’s an order.’ The sword-point gave me a little warning prod. I felt it touch the handle of the knife, which I’d forgotten that I’d tucked into my belt. It was just as well that Gwellia had insisted on my putting on that cloak, so it wasn’t visible — for a civilian to carry a bladed weapon was a serious offence.