"Charming." If his eyes hardened briefly, it was impossible to detect. "My congratulations to your '

"Wife," I said firmly. Vespasian glowered. Helena was a senator's daughter and should be married to a senator. Her intelligence, her money, and her child-bearing ability ought to be at the disposal of the half wits in the 'best' families. I pretended to see his point. "Of course I explain to Helena Justina continually that the cheap appeal of an exciting life with me should not draw her from her inherited role as a member of patrician society but what can I do? The poor girl is besotted and refuses to leave me. Her pleas when I threaten to send her back to her noble father are heart-rending'

"That's enough, Falco!"

"Caesar."

He flung a stylus aside. Watchful secretaries slid forward and collected a pile of waxed tablets in case he dashed them to the ground. Vespasian, however, was not that kind of spoiled hero. He had once had to budget cautiously; he knew the price of tablet wax.

"Well, I may want to put space between you two temporarily."

"Ah. Anything to do with Julius Frontinus and the Isles of Mystery?" I preempted him.

The Emperor scowled. "He's a good man. And he's known to you."

"I think highly of Frontinus."

Vespasian ignored the chance to flatter me with the provincial governor's opinion of me. "There's nothing wrong with Britain."

"Well, you know I know that, sir." Like all subordinates, I hoped my commander-in-chief remembered my entire personal history. Like most generals, Vespasian forgot even episodes he had been involved with- but given time, he would recall that he himself had sent me to Britain four years ago. "That is," I said dryly, 'if you leave out the weather, the total lack of infrastructure, the women, the men, the food, the drink and the mammoth travelling distance from one's dear Roman heritage!"