The violence of his words was no match for the violent efforts of the enemy, and still the Romans gave ground, forced back step by step. Now some of the legionaries, mostly newer men not yet hardened to the savage reality of battle, began to look nervously over their shoulders. Even as Cato glanced towards the rear of the Roman line he saw a figure take a step back, out of formation. The cohort commander saw it too and ran down to the man, swiping at his head with the flat of his blade.

‘Get back in line!’ Maximius screamed.’Move again and I’ll take your fucking head off!’

The legionary jumped forward, the fear of his cohort commander briefly overcoming his terror of the enemy. But he was far from alone in his dread of being butchered by the Britons. As the Romans were steadily thrust back, more and more heads turned to look for a passage to safety.

At the opposite end of the line Cato saw one of the men from Maximius’ own century suddenly throw down his shield, turn and run. Maximius caught the rapid movement and snapped his head round.

‘Get back in line!’

The man turned towards the voice, then snatched at the thongs tying his helmet in place, fumbling to undo them. Then they came free and he wrenched the helmet from his head, threw it to one side and ran towards a small thicket of gorse and stunted trees a short way off.

Maximius slapped the flat of his sword against the side of his silvered greave in rage. He screamed after the fleeing figure.’All right then, you scum! You coward! RUN! I’ve got your number! When this is over I’ll fucking stone you to death myself!’

The damage had been done, Cato realised. Other men began to shuffle back, with guilty glances at their companions. The Roman line began to lose more ground and the Britons pressed home their advantage. They forced their enemies back from the ford, all the time broadening the bridgehead so that they could feed more and more men into the fight. Soon the wings of the cohort would be pushed away from the ford and once that happened the legionaries would be enveloped and annihilated.

Maximius saw the building danger and knew that he must act swiftly to save his command. It would require some adroit handling of the cohort; only the First and Sixth Centuries were not engaged in the fight.

‘First Century! Refuse the left flank!’

As his unit folded back to form a right angle with Tullius’ century Maximius turned to the other end of the line and bellowed towards Cato, ‘Sixth Century! Form up on the left!’

‘Come on!’ Cato called to his men. ‘At the double!’