‘Quite!’ The merchant gave an oily smile. ‘But we wouldn’t want to give any credence to the idea that the enemy has any realistic chance of defying the legions, would we, Centurion? What does the other Roman officer think, I wonder?’

Cato, who had been looking down in embarrassment while Macro spoke, raised his head to see that everyone was looking at him expectantly. He swallowed nervously, and made himself pause a moment to avoid blurting out anything that might make him look foolish. ‘I speak with little authority on the matter. I’ve been serving with the Eagles for less than two years.’

The merchant’s eyebrows rose. ‘And already a centurion?’

‘A good one!’ Macro nodded, and might have continued to say more, but Cato quickly continued.

‘In that time I’ve fought the Germans as well as the Catuvellaunians, the Trinovantans and the Durotrigans. They’re all fine warriors, as are the Atrebatans. But none of them can hold their own against the legions. When a nation takes up arms against Rome there can only ever be one result. The outcome may be delayed by the odd setback, or by an enemy who resorts to the kind of hit-and-run tactics Caratacus seems to be employing against us now. But the legions will always be on the advance, grinding down every enemy strongpoint under their heels. In the end, even Caratacus will not be able to keep the field. There will be no one left to supply him with new men, new equipment and, above all, food and shelter.’

Cato paused to allow Tincommius to translate his words to those with little or no Latin. Artax snorted with contempt and shook his head.

‘I mean no disrespect to the tribes of these lands,’ Cato continued. ‘In fact, I have come to admire them, in many ways.’ A vision of the gory trophies his men had taken after the ambush flashed through his mind. ‘There are many great warriors amongst them, and that’s their weakness. An army comprised of a multitude of such men has little value unless it is moulded into a single entity with unity of purpose, unity of action and subordinate to one will. That’s why the legions will beat Caratacus. That’s why they will destroy everyone that opposes them until Caratacus submits. By now he should know that he cannot win. He should know that he can only prolong the suffering of the tribes by continuing to resist, and it makes me grieve.’

‘Grieve?’ interrupted Verica. ‘You grieve for your enemy?’