We came out among new warehouses with narrow fronts at the river's edge, running back from their tight-packed unloading berths in long secure storage tunnels. The river embankment was fringed with these, as if it had been planned. A great wooden platform, of recent construction, provided a landing stage and a bulwark against the spreading tide.

I stared at the river gloomily. The Thamesis was much wider than the Tiber at home, its high tide width more than a thousand strides, though at low water it shrank to a third of that. Opposite our wharf were reeded islands, which would become almost submerged at high tide, when for miles all up the estuary the Thamesis marshes would flood. Roads from the southern ports arrived over there on the south bank, conjoining at a spot where ferries had always crossed the river. There was a wooden bridge coming across from the main island, at a slightly odd angle.

Standing beside me, the procurator clearly shared my melancholy mood. Death and misty grey riverbanks produce the same effect. We were men of the world, yet our hearts ached.

Oppressed by our surroundings, I felt unready yet to address the Verovolcus death. 'You mended the bridge, I see.'

'Yes. Boudicca used it to get at the settlement on the south bank – then her troops made a good attempt to put it out of action.' Hilaris sounded dry. 'If this one seems rather strangely aligned, that's because it isn't permanent.' Clearly the bridge issue amused him. 'Falco, I remember the post-Invasion bridge, which was intended to be for purely military purposes. It was just decking on pontoons. Later the supports were made permanent – but it was still wood, and we pulled it down. It was decided a decent stone bridge would signify permanence in the province, so this one was built.'

I joined in the satire. 'You said this isn't permanent either?'