The light was fading when Cato left the prisoners and made one last circuit of the fort to ensure that his men were ready to face whatever the enemy might throw at them during the second night. As he made his way along the wall that overlooked the river he saw some of the Thracians below, leading strings of horses down the last stretch of the path to the river. More men, dismounted, were spread out along the slopes, keeping watching for the approach of the enemy. The unmistakable figure of Quertus was already in the shallows, watering his beast. Looking across to the far bank, Cato could see that the tribesmen were powerless to intervene. That would change soon enough, he mused. Caratacus was sure to post slingers along the bank to harry any further attempt by the defenders to lead their mounts to drink at the river.

When he completed his tour of the wall, Cato climbed into the gatehouse tower once again to check on the activity of the enemy before he returned to his quarters for a quick meal. Then once he had decided on the night’s password he would rest for a few hours. He had decided to entrust the second watch of the night to Macro, who could be depended upon to raise the alarm in good time if Caratacus decided to make another night attack. The climb up the ladder seemed exhausting and Cato realised he had had no sleep for nearly two days. Now that he thought of it, nothing seemed more welcoming than the prospect of his simple cot in the modest living quarters of the garrison commander.

The rain had stopped and down in the valley the evening gloom was pricked by the red glow of campfires. Cato could see a party hard at work trimming several tree trunks at the edge of the parade ground. The sight did not unduly unsettle him until his gaze came to rest upon another party of warriors busy bundling slender saplings together and binding them tightly. They were too big for faggots and then he realised that Caratacus had given orders to make fascines to bridge the ditch. The enemy would start dragging them forward as soon as night fell. They would tumble them into the ditch and slowly build up more causeways across the defences to enable them to bring the rams to bear against other sections of the wall. It was clear that the Silurians were determined to carry through their attack. Nothing was going to stop them taking Bruccium, Cato reflected. So much for his new command. It had lasted less than a month.