I like to be thought of as a man of honour – but returning these women to the wild woods a thousand miles to the north would be harder than Ganna seemed to realise. For a start, the logistics would be appalling. But I had no intention of allowing either to go back to the Free German tribes, carrying yet more stories of Roman duplicity. Even if I could manage it, if the truth came out here, I would be a traitor, crucified by a high road and damned to the memory.

There was more. With extra tears and entreaties Ganna wrung her hands and beseeched me to help with a desperate problem. She wanted me to find Veleda before harm befell her

'This is a very serious request,' I said gravely. Helena Justina glanced across sharply. I always loved having duplicate commissions, if they came with a double fee. 'And for a private informer, perhaps it is inappropriate.' Helena shot me another sarcastic glare.

It did not stop Ganna. She was determined that I was the man for the business – for much the same reason as Laeta had been: I knew Veleda. Ganna believed that would make me sympathetic towards her missing companion, for whom she expressed worse anxieties. With more of those entrancing tears running down her pale face from her delicate blue eyes, Ganna said that ever since Veleda had arrived in Rome, she had been suffering from a mysterious illness.

Veleda was sick? That really was bad news. Captives who are destined to adorn famous generals' Ovations are not supposed to pass away from natural causes first.

It was bad news for me too. 'Abate the fee' was the Flavian emperors' motto: I would lose the extremely generous reward I had been promised by Titus Caesar if, when I produced Veleda, she was already dead. I told Ganna I was obliged to work for money and she assured me that she had it to give.