Cato drew up and looked round, wide-eyed and breathing hard through clenched teeth. Mandrax was behind him, standard in one hand and blood-smeared sword in the other. The Atrebatan warrior grinned at the centurion, thrust his standard into the ground and snatched up the grey locks of a man Cato had knocked down. Mandrax yanked his head up and swept his sword back to cut the man’s head off.

‘No!’ Cato shouted. ‘Not now. Leave the heads till later. There’s no time.’

With a look of disgust Mandrax released the man’s hair and snatched up his standard. Then Cato saw that some of the rest of his cohort had already taken a few heads, and others were busy looking for more.

‘Drop those!’ Cato shouted in Celtic. ‘Drop ‘em, I said! Form up!’

Reluctantly, the men obeyed, hurriedly forming a solid block across the street that ran up to the gates of the royal enclosure. As soon as the Wolves were ready, Cato ordered them to move forward fifty paces, halt and wait for orders. Then he ran back to the junction. The legionaries were easily holding off the main body of the enemy that filled the street in the direction of Calleva’s main gate for as far as Cato could see.

Macro suddenly appeared, shoving his way through the rear ranks of his men. He saw Cato and nodded grudgingly.

‘Nice work . . . Take your men forward and make sure the route to the enclosure is kept open.’

‘Right.’

‘As my lot get close to the gate, you get yours inside. Be ready to close it the instant the last man passes through.’

Cato smiled faintly. ‘That wouldn’t be you, by any chance?’

‘Get going.’

‘Yes, sir.’

Cato trotted back to his men and ordered them forward. They met no further resistance from the Durotrigans who had been separated from the main body of the enemy, and the only ones they saw quickly ran off at the sight of Cato and his men. Then the street widened slightly as it turned a corner and there was the entrance to the royal enclosure. The gates were open and several of the king’s bodyguard, fully armed, were standing along the palisade on either side. Cadminius stood in the entrance and beckoned to Cato and his men as they approached. Cato ran over to him.

‘Macro and the last of our men are not far behind. We’ll have to keep the gate open for them.’

‘Keep it open?’ Cadminius shook his head. ‘Can’t risk it. Get your men in and Macro’ll have to take his chances.’

‘No,’ Cato said firmly. ‘The gate stays open until I say.’

Cadminius opened his mouth to protest, but there was a ruthless gleam in Cato’s eyes, and the Atrebatan looked away and nodded.

‘All right . . . We’ll need every man we can get to defend the enclosure.’