‘No. No, I don’t. He’s a fool. If he succeeds in turning the Atrebatans, one way or another they’ll be slaughtered. That’s the kind of king people really don’t need.’

‘No . . .’ Macro looked away. ‘There’s something else that worries me.’

‘Oh?’

‘Tincommius said that Caratacus was coming.’

‘Yes. So?’ Cato rubbed his eyes. ‘I doubt it’ll make much difference. We’re not going to be around that long.’

‘Maybe. But what if Quintillus has found the legion?’

‘I doubt the tribune made it. They must have caught him.’

‘What if they didn’t? What if he reached the legion and Vespasian sends a relief force?’

Cato was silent for a moment before he replied, ‘We can only hope he didn’t make it. Best lose a few hundred of us than a few thousand.’

‘True. We can see that, but Vespasian can’t. Far as he knows the only opposition he’ll face is the force that ambushed us. Even that coward Quintillus will find it hard to overestimate their strength enough to keep the legate away. If Vespasian comes, he’ll bring most of the legion with him, right into the path of Caratacus.’

Cato paused as he contemplated this awful possibility. He looked at Macro. ‘Then we’ve got to warn him, assuming Tincommius was telling the truth.’

‘How?’ Macro responded sourly. ‘We’re surrounded. The moment anyone tries to make a break for it they’ll be bagged and killed on the spot, if they’re lucky.’

‘Somebody has to try,’ Cato said quietly. ‘If there’s a chance that the legate might attempt to save us.’

‘No. It’s pointless. We need every man right here.’

‘What difference does it make?’ Cato persisted. ‘We’re all dead in the end. Let me go.’

‘No. You stay. That’s an order. I’ll not send any man on a bloody stupid suicide mission. As I said, there won’t be a relief force sent to us. All that’s left is to hold on, and take as many of the buggers with us as we can.’

‘Or surrender and take our chances.’

‘Some chances!’ Macro laughed harshly. ‘Oh, they might spare our native lads, and they might even let Verica live long enough to die from his wounds. But not us. They’ll have something special sorted out for us. You can count on it.’

‘All right then,’ Cato conceded, ‘but they might spare the Wolves, and Cadminius and his men. We could offer terms for their surrender and fight on ourselves.’

Macro stared at him, but in the dark Cato could not read his expression and he continued his line of argument. ‘There’s no point in more deaths than necessary. If the Wolves and the bodyguards are spared because we were seen to save them, it might count for something in the longer term. It might leave some sympathy for Rome.’