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Simo declined his glass of wine.

‘No, no. I insist,’ said Abascantius.

Simo took a glass, as did Indavara.

‘To success!’ declared Abascantius.

They raised their glasses and drank. Cassius savoured the sweet, powerful wine. Nomentamum was one of his father’s favourites; it was extremely expensive, and very hard to come by outside Italy.

Another knock on the door. It turned out to be Salvian; and the portly operative was carrying a letter. Abascantius went over to speak with him.

Cassius turned to the others. Indavara put down his already empty glass.

‘Well,’ said Cassius. ‘As this seems to be an occasion for giving gifts — Simo.’

The Gaul reached into Cassius’s satchel, which was hanging from his chair. He pulled out an object a little longer than his hand, wrapped in cloth. He passed it to Cassius, who then presented it to Indavara.

‘For you.’

Indavara took the object and unwrapped it carefully. It was an immaculately rendered figurine.

‘Fortuna,’ Indavara said.

‘Silver leaf. Best you can buy,’ stated Cassius.

‘I shall still keep the old one.’

‘Of course.’

‘Thank you,’ said Indavara with an awkward little nod.

‘Quite literally the least I could do. I wouldn’t be here if not for you.’

‘Me neither if you two hadn’t fished me out of that river.’

Cassius shrugged. ‘Let’s call it even.’

‘Not quite — don’t forget the inn at Palmyra.’

‘But what about the baths?’

Cassius kept up a serious expression for a moment, as did Indavara, but then they both cracked into broad smiles.

‘Fair point,’ said the bodyguard. ‘Even it is.’

‘So what are your plans?’ Cassius asked.

Before Indavara could reply, Abascantius spoke up.

‘Gentlemen.’

They turned round. The agent was holding up the letter.

‘It seems we have a slightly problematic situation developing in Cilicia.’

Cassius let out a breath and rubbed his brow. ‘Oh no.’

‘Don’t worry, Corbulo; a trifling matter by comparison with this last outing. But I fancy you might be well suited to it. You’ll need your man Simo, of course, and a bodyguard wouldn’t go amiss.’

Abascantius cast a speculative glance at Indavara, who said nothing.

‘Well, you needn’t give me an answer now,’ continued the agent. ‘Perhaps a little later.’

‘No,’ said Cassius. ‘I shall be otherwise occupied for the rest of the day.’

Abascantius grinned. ‘Prior engagement, Corbulo?’

Cassius ignored him and turned to Indavara. ‘What do you think?’

Indavara still had the figurine of Fortuna in his hand. He gazed down at the pale, delicate features of the goddess’s face, then looked up as Cassius asked again.

‘Well?’