‘It has indeed, dear Philo,’ Sulpicia Lepidina replied.
‘Quite so,’ Hadrian added. ‘And tetrafarmacum, if I am not very much mistaken. My four-fold medicine never disappoints. You must try it, dear ladies, you really must. But where is the centurion? Surely he will join us.’
‘My lord Ferox begs to excuse himself from attending on his esteemed guests. Stained as he is from a long ride.’ Philo’s tone implied a level of unutterable filth. ‘He does not wish to interrupt or spoil his guests’ enjoyment of their meal. He will refresh himself and bathe.’ Philo almost regretted not being able to supervise and chivvy his master into performing these tasks properly. ‘And will then be ready to wait upon the noble legatus later tonight or in the morning, as most suits my lord.’
‘He should come,’ Hadrian said mildly.
‘My lord,’ Philo said, surprised by his own boldness, ‘my master fears that he is scarcely presentable.’
‘He rarely is,’ Claudia Enica commented. Philo saw Lepidina’s lips purse in disapproval, although since Hadrian reclined between the two ladies, Claudia did not notice.
Hadrian smiled. ‘This is the praetorium, not a villa in Baiae. I do not think anyone would be offended by the honest sweat of a good soldier doing his duty.’
‘We are not all soldiers,’ Lepidina suggested.
‘And you have not smelled my husband.’ Claudia wrinkled her nose in exaggerated disgust.
‘Indeed we are not,’ Piso said, speaking loudly, his voice a little slurred from wine. ‘And may Venus and all the nymphs be praised that there is beauty among us.’
Julius Dionysius wriggled his shoulders and moved his head from side to side, as if preening. ‘Well it’s nice of someone to notice.’
‘Send for the centurion,’ Hadrian ordered.
‘Are you sure, my lord?’ Philo said before he had time to think.
‘My husband is not the finest companion at a table,’ Claudia said quickly to cover the freedman’s embarrassment at having doubted so distinguished a guest. ‘His manners are…’ she paused in thought, ‘at times a little rough. And apart from that I…’ She trailed off into silence, dropped her head and blushed.
‘They have been apart for a long time,’ Sulpicia Lepidina whispered into Hadrian’s ear. Less discreet, and just audible was Piso’s muttered, ‘Don’t worry, he can rape you later.’
‘Please ask the centurion to join us as soon as possible, and not to worry about his appearance.’ Hadrian reached over to pat Claudia on the hand. ‘I am sorry, my dear, but this is a matter of duty and the good of the res publica. You may have a proper reunion later.’ Hadrian caught Piso’s smirk and glared at him.
‘My lord,’ Philo said and bowed his head in obedience. Privatus caught his eye, nodded and left the room to seek Ferox.
Hadrian reached for the plate with the pies. ‘Let me offer you some, dear ladies? Four-fold medicine,’ he said happily, ‘is the cure for all ills and every woe.’
‘Is it filling?’ Claudia asked. ‘I have eaten a good deal.’
‘You need have no fear – not least because your figure is that of a goddess.’
‘Well yes,’ she conceded. ‘However, dear Lepidina, do you not realise the implication of that compliment.’
‘Dear Claudia, I am sure that Aelius was not in any way contrasting us.’
Hadrian’s smile broadened. ‘Tis as well you two are not generals, for I am already outmanoeuvred. But have a taste, I beg you both.’
Philo’s nervousness returned as Hadrian cut small slices to serve each of the ladies. On the other tables, the guests were devouring the pie, but that was only to be expected when it was known to be a favourite of so senior an officer, who might notice their reaction. Only Piso remained disinterested, picking at his food with no sign of emotion just as he had done with every course. Philo jerked his head to Indike, who now had an amphora of wine, which she took over to refill the senior tribune’s cup. Piso made no effort to hide his scrutiny of the young woman, especially as she leaned forward.
Hadrian did not watch as the ladies nibbled, instead focusing on the whole pie he had served himself. Philo could barely breathe as the legatus cut into it and began spooning up the contents. The first mouthful was chewed and swallowed and the legatus paused and looked straight at Philo, his face rigid.
‘This is good,’ Hadrian said at long last and smiled. ‘My compliments to your chef.’
Philo breathed out. ‘I will pass them on, my lord.’
Privatus returned, walking quickly to pass on the message.
‘Well, what’s this?’ Hadrian said, his tone sharp. ‘Where is Ferox?’
‘The centurion regrets that he is unable to join his guests,’ Philo began.
‘Hercules’ balls, he’d better have a damned good excuse,’ Hadrian cut in.
‘Yes, my lord, he feels that he has.’
‘Well?’
‘My master begs to report that the fort is on fire.’
The granary was blazing furiously, and all was chaos, with alarm bells ringing and men shouting. Ferox felt his skin scorching with the heat and coughed as smoke blew towards him. That was at least a consolation, for it was blowing away from the other buildings and towards the intervallum, the wide road running around the camp inside the rampart. Hopefully, that would give them a little time.
‘Keep moving! Keep moving!’ he yelled at the men carrying all that they could from the granary beside the one on fire. There was barely a yard between the two buildings and it was amazing that the flames had not already spread.
‘What’s this lot?’ Vindex and another of the Carvetii staggered as they carried a big amphora.
‘Olive oil.’
‘Shit!’ They hurried away to add their burden to the piles of stores a hundred yards away.
‘Optio!’ Ferox shouted as he saw one of the men from I Minervia. ‘Where are those tools and ropes?’
‘Coming, sir!’
‘Get a move on!’ More men were arriving, summoned by the bells and the noise, and he was pleased to see a group of men with a long ladder because he had not thought to ask for one. ‘Up on the roof,’ he called, pointing at the third granary, which was separated from the first pair by a wider alley. ‘Use anything you can to prise off the shingles. As many as you can as quick as you can.’
The soldier, who looked like one of the auxiliaries, nodded in understanding. Before he left, Ferox put his hand on the man’s shoulders. ‘Do what you can, but no silly heroics, eh?’ The response was a grin, and then the man started shouting at the others.
At last the tools were arriving from the workshops, and he saw axe blades and saws gleaming red in the firelight. He needed them, but most of all he needed heavy hammers, and then he saw Naso with a group of bearded veterans coming with half a dozen. Ferox’s voice was hoarse, the smoke thicker than ever and carrying with it odd scents of roasts from the barrels of salted meat and the rancid smell of burning oil, but he kept on shouting and chasing. Dividing the men with tools into two groups, he sent Naso with one to start pulling down the barrack block on the far side of the burning building, while the rest were to work on the third granary. There was not the slightest hope of water dousing these flames, even if they had had a good supply and pumps and hoses, which meant that the only way to stop the whole fort from going up was to make a firebreak on either side of the blaze – and to pray.
Any Brigantes he saw went to the walls if they were carrying weapons, and to help saving anything they could from the second granary if they were not. Ferox doubted that there was much risk of a surprise attack under cover of night and the confusion, but there was no sense in taking the chance, so Cunicius was at the main gate and told to keep a good watch. Many men he half knew or did not recognise at all had arrived with the legatus and most of these had their arms handy as they had not yet settled down to barrack life. There was another centurion with them and Ferox had told him to take all the men he could find and obey Cunicius, whoever was the senior. At a time like this, it was better to have someone who knew the layout of the fort.