He paused to let his words have their effect. Some in the crowd cheered him, but many looked on in silence as he continued.

‘The governor tells us that our struggle can only end in our defeat. It is true that we were defeated in the early battles, but our will to resist lives on. For long years we have defied Rome. We have forsaken the battlefield for a different kind of warfare. We have attacked their outposts, burned their supplies and picked off their patrols. Slowly but surely we are eating away at the mighty Roman legions, consuming them a piece at a time. All the while, we have been gathering our strength and taking ever more bold action against our common enemy. In token of which, I give you this.’

He turned and waved a signal to the Silurians. Some men came forward, two holding a third who had the hood of his cloak up. The man stumbled, as if he was drunk, and the others held him up and half dragged him across to the centre of the ring amid the silence of all watching. The three men stopped before Caratacus, who leaned forward and flipped the hood back to reveal a mop of dark curly hair above a thin, drawn face within which there were two darkened and scarred patches where the eyes had been. As he felt his hood being removed, the man shuddered and opened his mouth and let out a guttural animal moan of panic.

‘They’ve cut his tongue out,’ said Macro. ‘Whoever he is.’

Cato swallowed. ‘We’ll know soon enough.’

Caratacus gave the order for the man to be released and then he thrust him forward so that he staggered a few steps and fell on to his hands and knees with a muffled squawk of pain and then felt his way forward across the hard-packed soil, crawling away from the harsh laughter of Caratacus and his companions. The enemy leader turned to face Ostorius and his retinue and made a flourishing gesture.

‘I return him to you. We took him prisoner a few months ago, along with some others who have since been disposed of. This man was passed from village to village and sorely abused in the process. A pity, since I am certain he would have had a promising future. But it was necessary to prove that the men of the legions are flesh and blood like the rest of us, and just as easily broken. Even men like your Centurion Quertus who we will deal with in due course. For now, we have grown tired of using this tribune for our amusement and it is time for him to rejoin his comrades. Isn’t that right, Tribune Marcellus?’

He strode up behind the helpless captive and with his boot he shoved the man towards the governor so that he collapsed on to his face. A ripple of cruel laughter sounded from certain sections of the gathered tribes. Others looked on in shock, fearing the inevitable wrath of the Romans when they reacted to this outrage. Governor Ostorius pressed his lips together as he fought to control his anger. Then he turned back to his men and spoke in a quiet cold voice. ‘Pick him up. Get him out of here.’