‘Same as before. Safe passage to your legion.’

‘I don’t think so!’

‘I thought you’d say that!’

Cato was sure that he could see Tincommius smile for a moment. Then the Atrebatan prince turned round and shouted an order. There were sharp cries of pain and some shouting from beyond the bend in the street. Then a column of figures shambled into sight. Many wore bandages, some had streaks of dried blood on their faces and limbs. Some wore the red tunic of the Roman legions, and were tethered together by leather straps. Ranged alongside them were men armed with spears, prodding any of the prisoners who stumbled along too slowly. Cato recognised a few faces: men who had once served in the Wolf and Boar Cohorts and some of the Greek and Roman merchants who had hoped to make their fortune in Britain. Tincommius gave an order and the column halted. The first man was untied from the others and brought forward, hands still tightly bound. His escort kicked him behind the knees and the Roman fell down with a cry. He lay on his side, groaning, until Tincommius stepped over and kicked him in the head. The Roman tucked his head down, drew his knees up and fell silent.

Tincommius turned back to the gateway, pointing down at the man on the ground. ‘You’ll surrender to me now, or this man dies. And then the rest, one by one.’

04 The Eagle and the Wolves

Chapter Thirty-Six

‘To prove I mean what I say, please observe . . .’ Tincommius nodded to a man standing to one side of the column. Unlike the other natives he was carrying only a heavy wooden club. He strode forward, and stood over the Roman on the ground, bracing his feet apart. Then he swept the club up and smashed it down on the shin of the Roman’s left leg. Cato and Macro clearly heard the bone crack from the gateway of the royal enclosure, fifty paces up the street. The scream from the Roman was audible from far further away. And it got worse when the warrior broke the prisoner’s other leg - a shrill animal screech of pure agony that chilled the blood of all who heard it. The Roman writhed in the dirt of the street, his lower legs twisting obscenely below the knee, causing even more torment. His screams only ended when he finally passed out.

Tincommius allowed the silence to have its effect before continuing to address the defenders. ‘That’s the first. There’ll be more, until you come to your senses and surrender. Those that survive can be taken with you when you quit Calleva. It’s your decision, Macro. You can end this any time that you wish.’