‘Wolves!’ he called again. ‘For fuck’s sake! On me!’

The last two warriors took a moment to realise that the centurion was not armed and with triumph gleaming in their eyes they closed in on Cato. One grasped the edge of the shield and wrenched it aside, as his companion drew back his spear and thrust it at the Roman. There was nowhere to go and Cato watched in horror as the spear tip came towards him, time slowing as he stared wide-eyed at his death. Suddenly he was knocked to the side as a figure flew over his shoulder and the spearman tumbled back on to the ground.

Mandrax and the surviving members of the Atrebatan cohort came running up, and the last of the attackers was impaled on the end of the wolf standard. As the men formed a small screen around the wagon Cato crawled over towards Verica. The king was lying on top of the spearman he had felled, his bony hand clasped round the handle of an ornate dagger whose blade was buried in the eye socket of his enemy.

‘My lord!’ Cato gently lifted the king off the dead man. Verica’s eyes flickered open and he seemed to struggle to focus as his gaze fixed on Cato.

Verica smiled feebly. ‘You’re all right?’

‘Yes, my lord . . . You saved my life.’

Verica’s lips parted in a pained smile. ‘Yes, I did, didn’t I? . . . Where’s Cadminius?’

Cato looked round and saw that the captain of the bodyguard was struggling to sit up. The big man coughed, splattering blood down his chest.

‘Mandrax!’ Cato called out. ‘Look after the king.’

Once the standard bearer had the king cradled against his chest, Cato squatted down beside Cadminius, reaching around the man’s shoulders to keep him propped up. He was breathing in shallow gasps that rattled in his throat as he looked up at Cato.

‘The king?’

‘He’s safe,’ said Cato.

Cadminius smiled faintly, satisfied that he had done his duty. ‘I’m f inished . . .’

For an instant Cato thought of saying something reassuring, some lie to comfort the dying man, but then he simply nodded. ‘Yes.’

‘Cadminius!’ Verica stretched a hand towards the best of his warriors, then snapped at Mandrax. ‘Help me over to him!’

Cadminius’ life was draining away fast and his mouth gaped as he struggled to draw breath. ‘My lord!’

In the last moment, the warrior’s fingers groped for Cato’s hand, found it and clamped tight, as a sudden final reservoir of strength was spent. Then the pained expression round his eyes eased and his fingers lay limply across Cato’s palm. Cato watched him a moment, to be sure there was nothing more to be done, no last vestige of life to be eased into oblivion, then he rose to his feet and looked round.