Once the sun had gone down, the heat of the day fled and it was soon bitterly cold. Riding through the previous night, that had not mattered, but for men with only a single blanket or cloak as covering and trying to sleep, the cold seeped into their bones. Before long, most were huddling together to share what little warmth they had left, and many, even of the exhausted, slept only fitfully. Ferox and his men got less rest than most, for they patrolled around the camp throughout the night. Bran spotted some riders who watched them for a while from a distance, before vanishing into the gloom. They might have been from the city or they might have been nomads about their own business, and were not seen again.

At dawn the trumpets sounded, and officers reported to Cerialis for the day’s password and orders, while the soldiers stamped to bring life back to numbed limbs. All of the stragglers had turned up, most within a few hours, and they set off at the infantry’s pace. If anyone fell out of the ranks, then Cerialis’ orders were for a trooper to dismount and lead the horse while the weary man rode. This prompted a wave of men staggering and falling, until the auxiliaries started to jeer them. From then on, it became a point of pride for each century not to lose a man. Comrades took their pila, helmets, and in a few cases even their shields to help the footsore keep going. Arrian set an example by going on foot and carrying a legionary’s equipment for him, which meant that all the centurions had to do the same.

By the end of the day they had gone seventeen miles, which Ferox felt was good with so many unfit men in that heat. Before the sun set he saw a cloud of dust in the distance ahead of them, which surely meant Crispinus was on his way, unless things were taking a decided turn for the worse. The news spread and for all the cold there was a more cheerful mood in their camp that night. There was a faint glow to the north, but not enough cloud for them to see the reflection of campfires. Bran saw riders again, as did Vindex. Ferox tried to loop around behind them with a handful of men. He did not catch them, regretting that there was no time to stalk them on foot and even more that he had no Silures under command. However, he got close enough to think that they were Arabs, which meant little since he had seen more than a few of those warriors among the guards at Nicopolis.

Ferox suggested that he ride off the next morning and make contact with Crispinus, while the rest waited for them to arrive.

‘No,’ Cerialis told him. ‘Better we arrive together. The lads want to be back with the army. Makes them feel more secure, I suppose, apart from better food.’