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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

Macro turned away, not wishing to see any more. He slumped down inside the tower, resting his back against the hard timber of the palisade, but he could not escape the chilling sounds from below. He stared up at the cold stars and prayed to the gods for deliverance.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

‘I didn’t expect to find you here, sir.’

Legate Quintatus regarded the exhausted mud-spattered individual who had been brought to his quarters shortly after he had retired to his bed for the night. He had hurriedly put on a tunic and gone to the office of the commander of the fort at Isca to confront the man who had demanded he be awakened at such a late hour.

‘Prefect Cato . . . You look as if you have been through the mill.’

Cato was too tired to appreciate the legate’s laconic comment. He was so exhausted that he could barely stand, yet he must make his report as swiftly as possible if there was still a chance that Macro and the others could be saved. He had been in the saddle since leaving the mountain pass that morning. Together with the surviving Thracians, he had ridden out of the forest a short distance ahead of a party of Silurian horsemen who had pursued them as far as Gobannium. Along the way they had been forced to leave the wounded man behind. He was in too much pain to continue and they could not take him on without slowing down and risk being caught by the enemy. He understood the situation well enough and made his farewells to his comrades before drawing his sword and walking his horse back along the track towards their pursuers.

At Gobannium Cato was informed that Legate Quintatus and his column had advanced to Isca. Cato rested the horses for an hour before continuing on, riding hard through the afternoon and on into the dusk, then darkness, before they had seen the distant campfires of the Fourteenth Legion and the auxiliary cohorts attached to the legate’s command. They had been picked up by a cavalry patrol whose immediate reaction to the appearance of the Thracians was to take them for the enemy. Only the prefect’s presence had persuaded them otherwise. Cato demanded to see the legate at once and they were escorted to the fort at Isca around which the small army was camped. Leaving the standards with a tribune on the legate’s staff, Cato immediately made his way to the private quarters of Quintatus to make his report.

‘It has been a fraught day, sir,’ Cato replied wryly. ‘I had assumed you were at Glevum.’