Cato ignored the sarcasm. ‘It’s not Caratacus’ men. It’s more likely to be the natives from the village. A chance for them to have their revenge. They’ll just take what they can and destroy the rest. Then, my guess is, they’ll panic and run for cover.’

‘Your guess . . .’

‘If Cato’s right,’ Macro looked anxiously back towards the smoke,’what about Maximius and Felix? And that Nepos? We have to send someone back to save them. Let me go, sir. I’ll take half a century and-’

‘There’s no point,’ Cato cut in. ‘They’re already dead. Whoever’s there - villagers or the enemy - won’t have spared them. Besides, as the cohort commander says, we need every man here to hold off Caratacus. Hold him off long enough for Vespasian to arrive.’

‘If he arrives,’ Macro replied.

‘All right then,’ Cato nodded, ‘if he arrives. But that’s what everything hangs on now. If the legion’s not coming then nothing we can do will make a difference. We’ll be overwhelmed and wiped out. But if the legate is coming, then we must hold on here for as long as possible. That’s all that matters now.’ Cato stared determinedly at Centurion Tullius. ‘Sir, we’ve no choice. We have to make a stand.’

Tullius was silent for a moment as he struggled to come up with an alternative to Cato’s bleak outline of their predicament. But the more he thought about it, the less choice there was, and in the end he slapped his thigh with frustration.

‘All right, then. We stay and fight. Macro?’

‘Sir?’

‘I want a man posted on that hilltop, to keep watch for any force coming at us from the fort. See to it.’

‘Yes, sir.’

Tullius nodded and then strode over towards the gate and clambered up the steps on to the rampart.

Macro turned towards Cato, his cheeks puffing as he blew a sigh of relief.’That was close. For a moment there I thought he was going to slap us in chains. You really think it’s the villagers having a go at the fort?’

Cato shrugged. ‘It doesn’t matter.’

‘We shouldn’t have left the others behind,’ Macro reflected guiltily. ‘Do you think there’s any chance-’

‘No. None.’ Cato turned to him with a deadpan expression.

Macro frowned. ‘What do you mean?’

A shout echoed from the rampart. ‘Enemy’s on the move!’

The two centurions scrambled up on to the rampart and pushed their way through the legionaries packed along the palisade, until they reached Tullius. Antonius and Cordus were with him, staring out over the palisade towards the enemy warriors streaming along the track towards the fortifications. Cato noted a number of bodies sprawled in the ditch either side of the gate, some still writhing feebly on the sharpened stakes that lined the bottom of the ditch.