‘Amateurs? Maybe,’ the king conceded. ‘Yet we have come within a hair’s breadth of defeating you. Even a proud Roman must concede that. And we’re not beaten yet. My scouts report that your Second Legion is camped to the north of the marsh. Your legate has posted one of his cohorts to the south. Imagine, one cohort! Is he really so arrogant as to think that one cohort will contain me?’ Caratacus smiled. ‘Your legate needs to be taught a lesson, I think. Maybe soon. We’ll show him - and the rest of you Romans - that this war is far from over.’

Cato shrugged. ‘I’ll admit that there were times when the success of our campaign looked in doubt. But now…?’ He shook his head. ‘Now, there can be only defeat for you.’

Caratacus frowned and looked pained for a moment before he replied.’I'm old enough to be your father and yet you speak as if to a child. Be careful, Roman. The arrogance of youth is not tolerable for very long.’

Cato looked down.’I'm sorry. I meant no offence. But with all my heart I know you cannot win, and there must be an end to the needless sacrifice of the people of these lands. They would beg it of you.’

Caratacus raised his fist and jabbed a finger at the centurion. ‘Do not presume to speak for my people, Roman!’

Cato swallowed nervously. ‘And who exactly do you speak for? Only a handful of tribes remain loyal to your cause. The rest have accepted their fate, and come to terms with Rome. They are now our allies, not yours.’

‘Allies!’ The king spat into the fire in contempt. ‘Slaves is what they are. They are less than the dogs who feed on the scraps from my table. To be allied to Rome is to condemn your kingdom to a living death. Look at that fool, Cogidumnus. I hear that your emperor has promised to build him a palace. One worthy of a client king. So he’ll condemn his people to become the property of Rome when he dies, just so that he can live out his life in a gilded cage, despised by your emperor and by his own people. That is no way for a king to live.’ He gazed sadly into the glowing heart of the fire. ‘That’s no way for a king to rule . . . How can he live with such shame?’