As they emerged into the rutted open area just inside the gate they saw the confused tangle of wagons, oxen and the survivors of the escort and garrison. Men sat slumped on the ground, chests heaving. Those on foot supported themselves on their spears or bent double, gasping for breath. Many were heedless of their wounds, and blood dripped on to the ground around them. Vespasian stood to one side, leaning forward with his hands resting on his knees, gasping for breath. Macro shook his head slowly.

‘What a complete fucking shambles . . .’

04 The Eagle and the Wolves

Chapter Three

The sounds of battle quickly died away as the Durotrigans fell back from the ramparts of Calleva. Even though they had just given the Romans and their despised Atrebatan allies a bloody nose, they realised that any attempt to scale the ramparts would be a waste of lives. With loud taunting cheers they ran back beyond slingshot range and continued their triumphant tirade of insults until dusk. As darkness thickened about them, the Durotrigans melted away; only the faint rumbling of chariot wheels lingered for a while, and then Calleva was surrounded by silent shadows.

The natives manning the gatehouse and the ramparts either side stood down and slumped wearily on the walkway. Only a few sentries remained standing, eyes and ears straining for any sign that the Durotrigans were merely playing a trick, and would slip back under cover of night. As Verica emerged from the gatehouse he looked tired, and his thin frame moved uncertainly. He rested a hand on the shoulder of one his bodyguards. In the flickering glare of a single torch the small party slowly made its way down the main thoroughfare towards the high thatched roofs of the royal enclosure. Along the route small groups of townspeople fell silent as their king passed by; sullen resentment filled every face illuminated by the wavering orange glow of the torch. While Verica and his nobles were well fed, his people were growing hungry. Most of their grain pits were empty and only a few pigs and sheep were left within the ramparts. Outside Calleva many farms lay abandoned, or in blackened ruin; their inhabitants either dead or sheltering within the town.