The Imperial Secretary left the army just after dawn, accom-panied by his two bodyguards and four full squadrons of auxiliary cavalry. After the earlier attempt on his life Narcissus was not prepared to take any more chances. He had delivered the Emperor’s motivational threat to the general and would be the bearer of some good news on the way home. Caratacus’ army had been smashed and all that remained was to mop up the survivors. The commander of the native forces had used up the goodwill of the lowland tribes and would find little sympathy for any further struggle from that quarter. A generation of young warriors had been sacrificed for the cause, and across the land families wept bitter tears for their sons, lying dead and buried in fields far from home. It was only a matter of time, Narcissus comforted himself, before Caratacus was killed or captured. Barring a few druid troublemakers, peddling their bizarre philosophies and religious practices from the safety of obscure sanctuaries, the province was as good as conquered. That should keep the Emperor’s critics quiet for a while.

The column of horses splashed across the ford, shattering the calm surface of the river. On either side a thin milky white mist rose up along the river and spilled over on to the banks. The horsemen emerged from the crossing and climbed the track that led towards Calleva. The Atrebatan capital would be a safe place to spend the night now that the tribe had been incorporated into the kingdom of the Regenses, ruled by the sycophantically loyal Cogidubnus.

Narcissus smiled. There would never be any trouble from Cogidubnus. That man had been bought body and soul, and aped the ways of his Roman masters with a rare enthusiasm. All it had taken was some vague promise of building him a palace as soon as funds allowed.

As Narcissus rode past the side of the Second Legion’s marching camp, he saw, a short way off, hundreds of men labouring to erect a stockade. That would be the Third Cohort, he mused with a faint smile of satisfaction. The harsh judgement meted out to those men would act as a fine example to their comrades in the four legions gathered about the crossing. Better still, it would satisfy the armchair generals of the senate back in Rome, who would be pleased to know that the legions still cleaved to the harsh and hardening traditions that had won them an empire that stretched around the limits of the known world.