Quertus did not reply for a moment, and then smiled thinly at Cato. ‘Very good. You’re right, Prefect. My tactics and the appearance of my men is only part of the plan. What’s more important is that the men think and act like savages when the time comes. That’s something you can’t simply order them to do. They must do it without thinking. They must become more barbaric than the barbarians they are fighting. Only then can we win. And we are winning. Every village we destroy, every man, woman and child we slaughter, every mutilated body we display serves to weaken the resolve of our enemy.’ He paused and lowered his voice. ‘When we first built this fort the Silurians would attack us every night. They ambushed our patrols, massacred our forage parties and taunted us with the heads of our comrades. When I took command we put their farms to the torch, destroyed their villages and drove every last one of them out of the valley – those we didn’t put to the sword. Then we moved on to the surrounding valleys and made sure that they understood who was responsible for their suffering. Word of our actions spread and soon we began to encounter entire villages that had been abandoned. Fear is like any other contagion, it spreads from man to man and weakens the resolve, and the ability, to resist. We are close to breaking their spirit. I know it. Another month is all it will take. Then they will come to us on their knees, begging for peace on any terms.’

Cato listened in silence, taking it all in. It made sense of what he had seen, he reflected, but there was something that Quertus was holding back. And besides, it did not excuse the challenge to his authority. Above all, there was still the matter of the circumstances surrounding the death of the previous prefect.

‘This . . . success of yours has come at a cost, I should think. How many men have you lost since taking command here?’

‘No more than Rome can afford.’

‘How many?’

‘I haven’t been keeping strength returns.’

‘But you must have some idea,’ Cato insisted.

Quertus folded his hands. ‘There is a price for success in war. A price that is paid in men’s lives. It has cost my cohort over half of its men. I made good the losses from those legionaries who volunteered to take their places. And there are many who freely volunteered. And some who did not. Men like Petillius and Severus who did not have the stomach for such work. They were left to defend the fort when I led the rest to fight the enemy. But now we are short of legionaries. It is good that we can expect reinforcements. Enough men to finish what I started.’ His eyes gleamed at the prospect.

‘Quertus, I am in command now. I will decide what happens next.’