Quintus was in his tent outing over maps, tactics, reports, and letters. He sipped water from a cup, he gave no indication of knowing that he was there. His tent was fairly orderly, but there was a sense of organized chaos to it. He had a shrine in the back corner of it next to his bed. Claudius on the other hand was reading letters, and counting coins. His tent was neat, nothing seemed out of place. Another man, not a legionary was there with him. "Claudius, you should be more careful. My spies believe that Quintus suspects you." The young tribune scoffed. "He suspects me of being a scared child, who he can mold like clay, not that I want to seize power."