Cato nodded. ‘I have to leave.’ He eased himself to his feet and looked down into her eyes. ‘Good luck, Miriam. May your god protect you and your people.’

She looked up into the sky and shut her eyes. ‘Thy will be done . . .’

‘Pardon?’

She smiled. ‘Just something my son used to say.’

‘Oh.’

‘Farewell, Centurion. I hope I see you again.’

Cato turned away and strode back into the village to rejoin his men, and once he had disappeared between the buildings Miriam gave full vent to her tears with a low shuddering moan.

Bannus and his Parthian allies had not deployed any scouts to mask their movements. Instead they marched directly towards the fort, in full view of Cato and his men. Cato smiled grimly to himself. If Bannus was trying to cow them with the size of his force, then he was succeeding admirably. By Cato’s estimate, they were confronted by over three thousand men, perhaps five hundred of them mounted, and most of those would be Parthians, deadly with bow and arrow and skilled swordsmen if it came to a hand-to-hand fight.The enemy column had been easy to locate under the dense cloud of dust that rose up in its wake. At the rear of the column was a small baggage train, with a handful of carts just visible in the dusty haze, although it was impossible to determine what they were carrying. The column advanced at a measured pace, not hurrying to battle, but confident that it could traverse the land with impunity.

As soon as he had estimated their number, and noted the extent of their equipment and weapons, Cato quickly etched the information into the wax on a tablet he took from his saddle bag and called one of his men over.

‘Take this back to the prefect. Let him know that at the time of this report the enemy were about twenty miles from the fort.At their current pace they should not arrive before tomorrow evening. Got that?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Then go.’