‘There’s a first time for everything, sir.’

‘Maybe. Now get ‘em moving. And keep up the pace.’

Figulus nodded. ‘Same direction?’

Cato thought a moment and looked round at the landscape. ‘No. Start heading south, towards that crest there. Once the last man is over it, and out of sight, turn back to the original direction. I’ll explain later. Get going.’

While the optio rounded up the exhausted men sitting scattered in the long grass beside the stream, Cato went over to the injured man.

‘You’re one of Tullius’ men, aren’t you?’

The legionary looked up. His face was weathered, like old leather, and fringed with thinning grey curls. Cato guessed he must have been only a few years short of completing his enlistment. It was a harsh play of fate to have picked such a man out for execution.

‘Yes, sir. Vibius Pollius.’ The man saluted. He glanced round at the others, on their feet and already moving off. ‘You’re going to leave me behind, aren’t you?’

Cato nodded slowly. ‘Sorry. We can’t afford to be slowed down. If there was any other way . . .’

‘There ain’t. I understand that, sir. No hard feelings.’

Cato squatted down on a nearby slab of rock that rose proud of the rushing stream.

‘Look here, Pollius. There’s no sign of any pursuit yet. If you go to ground and nurse that ankle, you might be able to find us later. You look like the kind of man I could use. Just keep out of sight until that leg’s better. Then head south-west.’

‘Thought we were going to hide in the marshes, sir.’

Cato shook his head. ‘No. It’s not safe. If we get caught by Caratacus’ men they’ll make the prospect of a quick execution look like a lucky break.’

They shared a quick smile before Cato continued, ‘Figulus reckons our chances might be better if we look to the Dumnonians. Seems that some of them are related to Figulus’ tribe back in Gaul. He knows a bit of their tongue and might talk ‘em into taking us in. Just make sure that you mention his name if you come across any of their tribesmen.’

‘I’ll do that, sir. Soon as this leg gets better.’ Pollius slapped his thigh.

Cato nodded thoughtfully. ‘If it doesn’t get better . . .’

‘Then I’ll have to join you next time round. Don’t worry, sir. I won’t let them take me alive. You have my word.’

‘That’s good enough for me, Pollius.’ Cato nodded, burning inside with shame at having deceived the unfortunate veteran. ‘Just be sure that if they do take you alive, you don’t breathe one word about where we’re headed. Or Macro’s part in this.’