Above them Cato let out a sigh of relief. The capture of the ram would win them several hours at least. Although he had lost the outer gate, the inner gate still held and there would be time to seal up the passage with earth and rocks to render it impassible. Looking up at the sky, he detected the first hint of the coming dawn amid the rain and clouds, a thin skein of grey along the edge of the mountains to the east. Already he could pick out more detail in the fight on each side of the gatehouse, and the ground in front of it. There, he saw Caratacus again, fists clenched and resting on his hips as he glared up at the fort. Then the enemy commander turned to his followers and a moment later a war horn blared out, its deep notes carrying across the battlefield. One by one the men at the top of the ladders, struggling to gain a foothold on the wall, broke contact and eased themselves down rung by rung. Those below backed away cautiously, climbing down and then out of the ditch before hurrying back down the slope, some with sufficient presence of mind to carry their assault ladders away with them. For a moment Caratacus stood still, then it seemed to Cato that his enemy picked him out on top of the tower and he raised a finger and pointed directly at him, his threat clear enough. He would not give up. Not until the the fort of Bruccium, its garrison, and its commander were wiped out.

Caratacus turned away and paced slowly down the slope, along with the rest of his army.

Cato heard the ladder creak behind him as Macro climbed into the tower and came and stood at his side.

‘Round one to us,’ Cato said quietly.

Macro nodded. ‘But we lost Severus, and a handful of others. Did you see?’

‘I saw.’ Cato’s gaze flicked briefly down at the causeway where the centurion’s headless corpse lay sprawled across the body of one of the Silurians killed by a javelin. Then he recalled his first duty in such a situation.

‘Give the order for the men to stand down. The Thracians can take the first turn on the wall. Have the wounded taken to the surgeon and rations issued to the rest. Oh, and let them know that I’m proud of them. We’ve made certain that the enemy will remember the garrison of Bruccium for the right reasons now. They know we can put up a decent fight as well as burn and massacre.’

Macro nodded, then paused before he turned to leave. ‘You sure you want to tell the lads that?’

Cato stroked his chin. ‘Perhaps not the last bit. Just tell them I’m proud of them. Proud to be their commander. That should put some fire in their hearts . . . They’ll need it, when Caratacus comes for us again.’