‘Form up across the street!’ Macro bellowed from the front, waving his sword to hurry his men into position, so that a wall of shields extended across the gap between the huts on either side. Behind this barrier the head of the column trudged forward once again. Before the rearguard made it out of the depot the first of the Durotrigans slammed into them, slashing at the rectangular shields with their long swords. Both sides fought in silence; the Durotrigans, breathless from their run across the depot, the Romans from grim desperation. The clash of swords and thud of blades on shields sounded to Cato more like a weapons drill than the pitiless fury of battle. Only the cries of the wounded told of the deadly intent with which warrior and legionary fought. The rearguard knew their job well, and kept moving back, fending off blows and only striking when an enemy showed more recklessness than sense, and paid the price.

Ahead of Macro, the Durotrigans who had managed to climb the walls either side of the burning town gate spilled across the street, clashing their spears against their shields, and shouting out their war cries.

‘Keep the formation tight!’ Macro bellowed above the din, raising his shield so that he could just see above the rim. His sword rose to the horizontal, arm bent and braced to deliver the first thrust. The distance between the column and the howling mass of the Durotrigans narrowed at a measured pace. When there was no more than twenty feet between them, the nearest Durotrigan raised his spear and charged the shield wall. Immediately the rest roared out their battle cry and ran after their comrade.

‘Don’t stop!’ Macro shouted as the man to his left faltered. ‘Move forwards. Don’t stop for anything.’

The column met the Durotrigans on a narrow front and there was no room for the enemy’s weight of numbers to pin the legionaries down. Macro and the other men at the front slammed their shields forwards, thrust, recovered and advanced before repeating the sequence, an automatic rhythm they had practised hundreds of times. The Durotrigans attacked with ferocity and courage, but were no match for the Romans. They were forced back or cut down and then crushed by the column as it marched over them.