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Chapters (49)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Page
  3. About the Book
  4. About the Author
  5. Also By
  6. Praise
  7. Dedication
  8. The Roman Army Chain of Command
  9. A Brief Introduction to the Roman Army
  10. Map – Britannia 51AD
  11. CHAPTER ONE
  12. CHAPTER TWO
  13. CHAPTER THREE
  14. CHAPTER FOUR
  15. CHAPTER FIVE
  16. CHAPTER SIX
  17. CHAPTER SEVEN
  18. CHAPTER EIGHT
  19. CHAPTER NINE
  20. CHAPTER TEN
  21. CHAPTER ELEVEN
  22. CHAPTER TWELVE
  23. CHAPTER THIRTEEN
  24. CHAPTER FOURTEEN
  25. CHAPTER FIFTEEN
  26. CHAPTER SIXTEEN
  27. THE FORT AT BRUCCIUM
  28. CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
  29. CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
  30. CHAPTER NINETEEN
  31. CHAPTER TWENTY
  32. CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
  33. CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
  34. CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
  35. CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
  36. CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
  37. CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
  38. CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
  39. CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
  40. CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
  41. CHAPTER THIRTY
  42. CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
  43. CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
  44. CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
  45. CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
  46. CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
  47. CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
  48. CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
  49. Author’s Note

Both men tightened their grip on their sword handles and pressed their legs against the sides of their mounts as they prepared to charge. Cato heard a dull scrape as Decimus drew his blade.

Behind them there was a sudden rumble of hoofs and cries of alarm as their pursuers reached the bend, saw the confrontation ahead of them and drew up in confusion. This was the moment to strike, Cato decided, while at least some of their opponents were disrupted. He drew his breath, ready to let out his battle cry, when a deep voice bellowed through the air. A figure emerged from the ranks of the men blocking the way ahead. He walked his horse forward casually and turned it so that it stood across the track, neck raised, ears pricked, breath pluming from its nostrils. Cato’s heart was beating so fast he felt sure that it must be heard by everyone around him. He stared hard at the man confronting them. Like the others, his hair was dark and tied back by a broad headband. His brow was prominent and his eyes dark and deep set above a thick beard that masked his jaw. Even though he wore a cloak, Cato could see that he was massively built and his bare arms were like hams, covered with dark bristles. The man stared at them impassively while his men waited on his command, spears poised to strike down the three Romans that had dared to ride into the heart of these wild mountains.

There was a pause that made every moment linger on Cato’s heightened senses; he took in every visual detail, every sound, and smell in what might be the last few breaths of his life. Then the figure settled back in his saddle and he rested his left hand on his hip.

‘Who are you?’ he demanded in Latin.

‘Romans,’ Macro replied.

‘You don’t say.’ There was a hint of amusement in his tone. ‘Well, that’s a shame. I had hoped to make an example of some more of those Silurian scum . . . What are you doing here?’

Cato eased himself up in his saddle and sheathed his sword. ‘I’m Prefect Quintus Licinius Cato. This is Centurion Lucius Cornelius Macro. I’ve been sent to take command of the fort at Bruccium. I assume you’re Thracians from the garrison.’

The man nodded.

‘And who are you?’ Macro asked as he lowered his sword but kept it tightly gripped at his side.

The man clicked his tongue and walked his horse towards the Romans. He stopped again, directly in front of them, and raised his head. His dark eyes bored into Cato.

‘I am Centurion Quertus.’

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN