Cato nodded. No matter how brave the natives were, they lacked understanding of siege weapons. That was why they had placed so much faith in the hill forts they had constructed on a lavish scale. But while they had proved effective in the conflicts between the tribes of the island, they stood little chance against the bolt-throwers and onagers of the Roman legions. The latter had battered down the palisades and gates of one hill fort after another, while the bolt-throwers had scourged the ramparts, striking down any warriors brave enough to stand their ground and show their defiance to their enemy. After that it had simply been a matter of forming a tortoise to approach the breaches in the defences and then charging home to overwhelm the remaining defenders.

As yet the native warriors were only beginning to discover ways to counter the superiority that the soldiers of Rome had on the battlefield or in siegecraft. It had taken Caratacus several defeats before he learned to avoid pitched battles with the legions and to use the ponderous pace of the Roman army against itself. For some years now he had devoted his energies to striking at the legions’ supply lines, raiding deep behind the frontier and withdrawing before the Romans could react. It had proved an effective and profitable strategy and the raiders had returned to their tribes laden with the spoils they had taken from raiding villas and ambushes of supply columns and unwary patrols. For their part, having lost the initiative, the Romans could only respond to the raids by sending columns racing to the scene, too late to intervene. Inevitably, Governor Ostorius came to the realisation that the long war against the native tribes would only come to an end if there was no safe haven for Caratacus and his warriors. Without the defeat of the Silures and the Ordovices there would never be peace in the new province of Britannia.

Now that they were in sight of the fort, Quertus and his scouts reined in and waited for the rest of the column to catch up before continuing along the track to the approaches of the fort. There was no vicus, nor any bathhouse built outside the wall. Only the thatched haystacks that served as part of the stockpile of feed for the horses. These were protected by a modest palisade with two sentries on the gate. The track turned up towards the main gate of Bruccium.

‘What are those?’ asked Macro, pointing up the slope.