At first light Macro passed the order for every able-bodied man to stand to. Cato was to take all the remaining natives into the Wolf Cohort, and Macro gathered a scratch force of legionaries from the depot and assembled them immediately behind the gate as a reserve. Cato sent a man to bring the royal bodyguard down to the gate, and while Macro briefed his men Cato walked round the entire circuit of Calleva’s ramparts. The appeals by Tincommius, made throughout the night, had had their effect, and by the time the centurion had returned to the main gate it was clear that upwards of fifty men had quietly slipped over the wall to join the enemy. A thin mist had aided their flight from Calleva, and even now the milky grey wreathed the ground lying beyond the defence ditch. Cato was gratified that few of those who had deserted had been men of the Wolf Cohort. His attempt to learn their tongue and to be more familiar with their ways had paid dividends. It was a shame, he briefly reflected, that Roman policy makers rarely, if ever, learned from such examples. So much bloodshed might be prevented, and the Empire would win a far larger pool of recruits for its far-flung cohorts.

‘How many left?’ Macro asked, as Cato joined him in the watchtower.

‘Apart from the eighty effectives from the legionaries at the depot, there’s a hundred and ten left from the Wolves and sixtyfive from your cohort. Plus the king’s bodyguard, that’s another fifty or so.’

‘Can we count on them?’

Cato nodded. ‘Their loyalty is to Verica. They swore a blood oath to protect him.’

Macro’s mouth moved in a wry smile. ‘Tincommius’ oath didn’t seem to trouble him unduly. Can we trust Cadminius?’

‘I think so.’

‘Then where is he?’

‘He won’t leave the royal enclosure. Or let any of his men.’

‘Why not?’

‘He says they must guard the king.’

‘Guard the king?’ Macro slammed his fist down on the rail. ‘They’d be far more fucking use guarding him out here!’

Cato waited a moment, before speaking quietly. ‘I tried to explain that to Cadminius, but he wouldn’t budge.’

Macro quickly glanced round the ramparts, surveying the solitary figures spread out along the palisade. ‘Barely half a cohort all told . . . Not enough. Not nearly enough.’

Cato gazed round at the enemy preparations. ‘Must be thousands of them out there. And some of our own lads.’

‘And there’s more to come. Some cavalry turned up while you were gone. Came in from the north-west.’

‘We don’t have a chance.’

‘Thanks for that morale-boosting opinion.’