Caratacus hurled a wild curse at the fort and took several steps forward, his hand making to draw his sword. Then he stopped abruptly, slowly let the blade settle back in its scabbard and thrust his finger towards Macro.

‘I will kill you! Kill you with my bare hands, and take your heart and feed it to my hounds!’

Macro smiled grimly. ‘First you will have to take the fort.’

‘The fort will be mine! You cannot hold out against me.’

‘We’ll see. Until then, take the tribune back to your camp and look after him. I shall want to see him alive every morning. If not, I will execute your brother.’

Caratacus let out a pained animal growl. ‘It is out of my hands, Roman. The tribune belongs to the Druids now.’

‘Then take him back.’

‘I can’t!’

‘Who is in command? You, or that clown in the black cloak?’

Caratacus struggled to choke back his outrage. ‘He is the High Druid of the Silurians, the chosen man of our gods. He is not mine to command.’

‘I don’t give a shit. Tell him to step away from the tribune!’

Caratacus turned to the Druid and they spoke again in heated tones. Then, with an impatient flick of his spare hand, the Druid turned back to Mancinus and stabbed him deep in the side and ripped the blade diagonally across his stomach. The tribune half groaned, half screamed, as his intestines bulged out of the wound and slid down over his groin. Raising his bloodied blade again, the Druid plunged it into Mancinus’s heart, then stood back and raised his arms to the sky and began a shrill chant. The warriors released his arms and the body of the tribune collapsed to the ground.

‘No!’ Macro lurched at the wooden rail in the tower. ‘You bastards! Fucking barbarians! Bastards!’ Then he snatched out his sword and thrust the point towards Maridius’s throat. His eyes blazed down at Caratacus. ‘See this, and remember!’

Then, with all the brute strength he could muster, Macro rammed his sword up into the prisoner’s skull and his crown erupted as scalp, bone and brains burst into the air. The body tensed like stone, veins standing out, before jerking savagely and then collapsing on to the floor of the tower as Macro wrenched his sword free.

There was a wild cry of rage from Caratacus and a moment later the rest of his army who had been watching from their camp let out a roar of fury.