‘No one is unbeatable!’ Artax snorted his contempt. ‘Not even your Romans.’

‘ “Your Romans”?’ Mendacus repeated, and raised an eyebrow. ‘After your recent service under our two Roman centurions I’d have thought you’d have a greater sense of belonging?’

‘What are you saying, old man? What are you accusing me of ? I serve King Verica and no other man. I dare you to say different.’

‘I merely wondered how successful your training had been?’ Mendacus continued smoothly. ‘How far you had been . . . Romanised.’

Artax smashed his fist down on the table, sending some the goblets flying. ‘Outside! Outside now, you old bastard! You and me! We’ll soon settle this.’

‘Peace! Gentlemen, please . . . please,’ Verica intervened wearily. The divisions between the Atrebatan nobles had been hopelessly complicated by the events of the last few years and now there was just too much political dirt that could be flung back and forth. Clarity of understanding and purpose were needed now more than ever. Verica glared at Artax until the latter subsided, and slumped back on to his bench with a sullen expression. Only then did Verica continue.

‘The whole point of this meeting is to find a way that our people can be left in peace, or as much peace as is possible. Now, I know there are differences of opinion amongst us. Put them aside. Clear your minds of past injustices and grievances. Focus on the present situation. If I can summarise . . .

‘For now we serve Rome, and Rome appears to be winning the fight. But, as Artax has pointed out, this does not mean that Rome must win in the end. They’ve been defeated in the past, and doubtless they’ll be defeated again. If Caratacus can beat them, then what will be the consequences for us? I doubt we could expect much mercy from the Catuvellaunians. If the Romans look like being defeated, or are forced to retreat, we could abandon our alliance with them and join Caratacus. We would be perfectly positioned to deal the Romans a lethal blow from the rear. That would serve us well in the subsequent division of spoils amongst the tribes. Of course, there is the chance that we switch sides and then the Romans still win the war. In that case our nation would be finished. Rome would show us no pity, I am certain of that.’ Verica lowered his voice to emphasise his final words. ‘Everyone here would be hunted down and executed. All our families would have their land seized and they would be enslaved. Think on that . . . Now, what should we do?’

‘You gave your word to Rome,’ said Artax. ‘You swore a treaty with them. Surely that’s what matters, sire?’

Tincommius shook his head. ‘No. What matters is the result of the struggle between Rome and Caratacus. That’s all that matters.’

‘Wise words, my boy,’ Verica nodded. ‘So then, who will win?’

‘Rome,’ said Mendacus. ‘I’d stake my life on it.’