I’d study every clause of that scroll as if it were a Roman law codex, looking for loopholes in the phrasing. In the late empire, contracts were often sealed by witnesses; I’d try to find a way to add a counter-witness that could later contest the bargain. Then I’d create a feigned alliance with the ally I’m supposed to betray—give him a forged letter of trust from a high‑ranking senator—so that the act of betrayal appears to be a betrayal of the empire rather than of my friend. In that way, I could claim the bargain is a betrayal of the state, which was a more legitimate target for a Roman emperor, and later the letter would be used to expose the true intent of the scroll. It’s a classic double‑cross: you keep your name, you save your ally, and you leave a breadcrumb trail that future historians can trace back to the trick.