Cato refused to respond. Instead he stared past the cohort commander and watched Caratacus’ men march across the ford. His eye travelled back over the enemy forces to the far bank and the dark masses waiting beyond. The sun was low in the sky and the distorted shadows of the enemy made them seem more numerous and frightening. As he watched, the flat blasts of war horns carried across the river and all eyes turned towards the far bank. Men were streaming away from the ford and forming up into a line across a low ridge a third of a mile beyond. Several thousand infantry, with cavalry and chariots on each wing.

‘Sir!’ Centurion Antonius raised his arm and pointed downstream. ‘Look there!’

The officers turned their heads and followed his direction. On the far bank, a mile to the right the head of a dense column of men had appeared.

Macro squinted. ‘Ours?’

‘Who else?’ Cato replied. ‘And there’s the Second on our side of the river.’

The officers looked back along the track. Sure enough another column of Roman infantry was marching towards them, disappearing from view behind the hill on the far bank. For an instant Cato felt the blood burn in his veins and he faced the cohort commander.

‘Sir, there’s still time for us to do something. All you have to do is give the order.’

‘No.’ Maximius shook his head sadly. ‘It’s too late for that now. We stay here.’

Cato opened his mouth to protest but the cohort commander raised his hand to stop him. ‘That’s my decision, Centurion. There’s no more to be said.’

That was it then, Cato realised. The matter was decided. The failure of the Third Cohort was complete and its men and officers humiliated. If they were very fortunate, humiliation would be the least of their worries.

The forces of General Plautius arrived at the ford in three columns and immediately deployed and attacked the enemy. From the far side of the river the men of the Third Cohort watched as the Britons on the ridge charged forward, disappearing from view. All that could be heard were the muffled calls of war horns and trumpets and the faint sounds of battle. Then a scattering of figures appeared over the ridge, running towards the ford. More men followed them, and then it was clear that the Britons had broken as the slope was covered with the tiny figures of men.