The ditch was like a disturbed ants’ nest, a teaming mass of bodies getting up, and there were ladders against the side of the ditch. Men’s mouths opened as they shouted, an angry roar rather than any words, and already some were rushing up the ladders.

Rufus sprang to his feet and ran.

‘Alarm!’ The legionary with the missing teeth gave an odd, hissing shout. Other voices were shouting, then a cornu began to sound. A stone slammed into the roof of the shed and the legionary flinched. Rufus went past him before he turned to look back. There was no one else in the long shed. He reached for his sword, before remembering that he had left it behind because it was bound to get in the way when he had to measure the ramp.

‘Oh shit!’ the legionary gasped, crouching behind his shield. He fumbled to draw his own sword. ‘Oh shit!’ The blade would not come free.

‘Run, man! Run!’ Rufus tried to call, but his voice was no more than a rasp. His throat felt parched. The legionary glanced back at him, uncertain, then staggered as a spear struck his scutum. He spun, reeling for balance, and another spear was driven through his armour and into his stomach. A big man put a foot on the Roman, who screamed as the spear point was ripped free. Others were crowding behind him.

Rufus ran, fleeing down the shed and out into the nearest redoubt. He saw the startled faces of two soldiers waiting to man the scorpio. They gaped at him and he wanted to say something, but could not find the words. Nor could he stop himself. Instead he bounded past them and out of the gap in the rear rampart. The two men followed the centurion, but Rufus did not look to see what was happening and all he heard were pursuers close behind him, so he forced himself to go faster. There were more men ahead, dozens of them, from a huddle of men on outpost duty to thirty or forty who had carried up timber and wicker screens to add to the defences.

Horns blew, and there were shouts of triumph from behind him.

‘The enemy!’ a voice shouted.

‘Save yourselves!’ came another voice.

Men dropped what they were carrying, unsure what was happening and where to go. Ahead was the main camp, and Rufus headed for it because it was in his path and perhaps because he felt that it was the safest place to be.

A stone came whizzing out of the darkness, striking a knot of the men on guard and flinging two aside like rag dolls. Another of the men started shrieking, and suddenly all of them began to run. Someone barged into Rufus, almost knocking him over, but he kept going until his boot caught on something and he tripped, slamming into the ground. His leg screamed in agony as someone trod on him and someone else stood on his hand. He tried to push up, there was blow to the back of his head and then only blackness.