'You'll have to pretend they are your relatives,' said Laeta, nastily. He thought he was insulting my family. He had not met my real relatives; nobody could be as bad. 'The noble Helena Justina will undoubtedly cope. She can charge us for their keep.' That wasn't the point. 'I imagine your young woman's domestic accounting is immaculate. The men have specific orders to behave politely…' Even Laeta tailed off, foreseeing the kind of domestic strife that now awaited me.

'During a festival devoted to misrule? Laeta, you're an optimist!' Glancing at the names on the list, my heart sank even more. I recognised one of them. Rutilius Gallicus must be the kind of bright commander who instinctively picks his most useless men for the most delicate tasks. 'Right -' I braced myself 'I need a full briefing on Veleda's host at this so-called safe house, your Labeo character.' Meekly, Laeta proffered another prepared scroll. I made no attempt to unravel it. 'What's my target completion date?' 'End of Saturnalia?' 'Oh flying phalluses!' 'My dear Falco!' Laeta was now smiling slyly, 'I know you will see this as a race against time, a challenge to beat Anacrites.' 'And that's another thing: I don't want to be pissed about by him. I want the right to overrule him. I want command of the exercise.' Laeta pretended to be shocked. 'Can't be done, Falco.' 'Then I'm out.' He had anticipated trouble. 'I offer you one concession: Anacrites will have no right of command over you. He keeps his normal reporting line; you remain a freelance. You will work to me, of course, but you are nominally acting direct for Titus Caesar. Will that suffice?'

'Have to. I don't want bloody Anacrites getting his debauched hands on the priestess before me -' I grinned salaciously. 'Claudius Laeta, I do know what she looks like, remember: the priestess Veleda is a beautiful girl!'