Cato gently nudged him as they waited for Verica to start eating. ‘Any idea what the entertainment will be after the banquet?’

‘None. The old boy’s been playing it close to his chest. I think Cadminius is in on it. That’s why he’s been so nervous all afternoon - wants to make sure the big surprise is a real treat for the audience.’

‘Doubt I’ll last until then if I have to wait for my food a moment longer . . .’

There was a palpable tension in the great hall as the king’s guests waited silently for their host to take his first mouthful. Only then could they eat from the heaped plates in front of them. With theatrical grace the aged king lifted a sliver of pork to his lips and nibbled a corner. Behind him a bodyguard raised the royal standard, paused and let it slip back down so that it rapped sharply on the flagstone. At once the guests burst into renewed conversation and began to cram their mouths with food and beer. Cato lifted his drinking horn and peered into the brew: a dark honey colour with a light froth around the edges. Cato felt sick at the sweet malty smell that filled his nostrils. How could these people drink this stuff?

‘Whatever you do,’ said Macro, close to his ear, ‘don’t pinch your nose when you swallow. Take it like a man.’

Cato nodded and braced himself for the first sip. The bitterness came as a surprise, a pleasant surprise, he decided. Maybe there was a future for British beer after all. He lowered the cup and started chewing on a crudely cut hunk of steaming pork.

‘Good!’ He nodded to Macro.

‘Good? ‘S bloody wonderful!’

For a while, the guests at the top table ate in silence, grateful for the food after the lengthy delay. Verica, older and more gracious than his nobles, held his meat in a delicate manner and nibbled steadily at the pork with his remaining teeth. His appetite quickly deserted him and, wiping his greasy fingers in the long fur of one of his hunting dogs, he raised his drinking horn and looked over towards the two Romans.

‘A toast to our Roman friends, their Emperor Claudius and the swift defeat of those foolish enough to resist the advance of Rome.’

Verica repeated the toast in Celtic and his words were taken up by the others seated around the table - although not all of them looked quite as enthusiastic as their king, Cato decided, as he glanced sidelong at Artax. Following the king’s cue Cato raised the horn to his lips.

‘You must drink it in one go,’ whispered Tincommius.