‘I’m never quite sure whose side you are on?’ Bran muttered. ‘You sound as if you are enjoying this.’

Ferox did not want to think about that, in case the lad was right. His eyes scanned the convoy and the land on either side. As predicted, Exoratus began to move some of his formed cavalry over to face the threat. ‘Why don’t you go home?’ he asked, not looking at Bran. ‘You’ve more than paid your debt to me.’ It must be fifteen years or more since the boy had pledged to follow Ferox for three years. ‘You could be a big man in your tribe, or an honoured one in the queen’s household if you prefer.’ He tried to lighten his tone. ‘Has she set you to watch me?’

‘To watch out for you, yes. She is my sister and I owe her that and more. But my home is not in her household or back with my own kin, not yet. There are things I must do first, one day.’

‘Sosius?’

‘And others. There is plenty of time for all of them. In the meantime, I have found being with you and with Vindex and these Brigantes to be interesting. Life away from you all would be far more dull.’

‘Might be longer though?’

‘Not so far.’

Ferox had always found that Bran would rarely talk seriously unless it was just before a fight and there was seldom the opportunity then. His eyes kept scanning the plains ahead of them. More and more Roman horsemen had gone to the far side of the track and even the formed turma on this side of the track had dropped back to cover the rear. Exoratus and his men had seen what they were meant to see, and done the natural thing. All that was left this side were infantry marching alongside the waggons and pack animals, and the thin outer screen of riders.

‘Get everyone ready. Mount when I raise my arm. You all know what to do.’

‘Aye.’ Bran slithered back into the gully. He was not one to waste words.

Ferox glanced at the wood. He could not see a stretch of the outpost line beyond it, but noticed the pair who were closest to it and still in sight stop. One reined his horse back so savagely that the animal reared in protest. The cohortes equitatae got the dirty jobs, and their horsemen got less pay and smaller and poorer horses than the flashier cavalry of the alae. Most were good though, and he could see the rider giving the warning signal of enemies in sight. Ferox raised his arm.

There were whooping cries as another band of horse archers appeared, these ones half a mile away, beyond the wood and coming from behind another gentle rise. They were using the folds in the land just like the Sarmatians and surging forward, while the bulk of the Roman horsemen faced the wrong way.

Ferox heard the horses rush up the slope of the gully.