The map was made up from finely cured hides upon which the general’s staff continually added new geographical features. The disposition of Roman forces was marked by red painted blocks of wood with unit identifiers cut into the top surface. There was no sign of any enemy markers on the map.

The general cleared his throat with a small cough. ‘We know that a number of the enemy escaped us yesterday, perhaps as many as five thousand. I ordered our cavalry to pursue them and cut them down. So far they claim to have killed at least another two thousand, before they came up against a vast expanse of wetlands . . . here.’

Plautius leaned forward and tapped the map some ten to fifteen miles south and west of the crossing. ‘The downs quickly give way to a marsh. That’s where the survivors gave our cavalry the slip. But only after they turned on our cavalry and started to fight back. We began to lose men so the cavalry withdrew and now they’re screening the approaches to the marsh. So, we’re faced with a pretty little conundrum, gentlemen. We could ignore these survivors for the moment. After all, there can’t be too many left. Certainly not enough to significantly threaten our operations. On the other hand, they will undoubtedly recover their nerve fairly quickly and make a nuisance of themselves. As such they will act as an inspiration to any tribes still thinking of opposing Rome. Our immediate goal, then, is to finish the job and destroy whatever’s left of Caratacus’ army, and, of course, Caratacus himself, assuming he survived yesterday’s battle.

‘We need to make the most of the situation while Caratacus is licking his wounds. Since there’s no significant enemy force left to oppose us we can at last afford to disperse our forces and consolidate our gains. If we move swiftly we can lay down a network of forts and roads across the heartlands of Britain. Once that’s done the tribes will not be able to move without us knowing about it. Should be a simple policing operation from then on. To that end . . .’

Plautius reached for one of the markers and placed it away to the east, in position just outside the boundary of the lands the map ascribed to the Iceni, a tribe that had declared itself for Rome the previous year. The general then turned towards an older officer, Hosidius Geta - legate of the Ninth Legion.

‘. . . the Ninth will move there, establish a base and start probing north with auxiliary troops, establishing small forts along your lines of advance. The tribes in that area are nominally allied to us. That’s fine, but I want a display of strength, understand? You make it clear to them that Rome is here to stay. No marching camps. I want permanent structures, and I want them to look imposing.’