For a while there were only the sounds of nature in the clammy air and Cato, who would have normally relished the gentle rhythm of the rain, felt strained beyond all endurance. He was horribly tempted to jump to his feet and give the order to charge, rather than endure any more waiting, but instead he gritted his teeth and clenched his hand into a fist, letting the nails bite painfully into his palms. He hoped that Figulus was made of stronger stuff and would not be so badly tempted. It was in the nature of the optio to fight, and Cato was not sure how far he could trust Figulus to control his fierce Celtic blood.

At last the Batavian commander barked an order and his patrol trotted forward along the track, no more than ten paces from where Cato lay motionless, breathing as softly as he could. From the sound of the hoofs it was clear that two or three men had been sent ahead to scout the trail, then the main body entered the marsh at a steady pace. If the goddess Fortuna smiled kindly on them today, the Batavians might march right through them and be none the wiser. Cato offered a quick prayer to the goddess and promised her a votive javelin if he ever survived this nightmare.

The rumble of hoofs slowly passed by. There was a chorus of shouts. Cato tensed every muscle, ready to spring up and throw himself upon the Batavians at the first sign their ruse had been discovered. Then it dawned on him that of course their pathetic attempt at evasion had been detected. The same tracks that had led the horsemen here would have disappeared further down the track and that could only mean one thing to the Batavians.

Any moment now . . .

Cato glimpsed a shadowy presence to his left and turned his head. One of the horsemen was walking a short distance off the track, his back angled towards Cato, no more than six feet away, as he lifted his tunic and slackened the cord that held his leggings up. The man grunted and a deeper spatter could be heard above the gentle rain. Suddenly the noise stopped. Cato saw the man quickly lean forward and then he spun round, a cry of alarm already on his lips.

‘Get ‘em!’ Cato screamed as he jumped up. ‘Get up and get ‘em!’