‘No fires,’ he ordered, and was rewarded with a chorus of moans. They had nothing to cook anyway, and only rations of bread and salted meat. The camp had to be big, given all their horses, and they had brought blankets but no tents for the men, but the high ground was large enough for them all to have space, animals in the middle, hobbled or tethered and the men in a circle around them.

‘I want one in three men awake at all times,’ he told Sabinus, Vindex and the two decurions. ‘Patrols one hundred paces out every half hour. On horseback so you can ride down anyone unwise enough to come close. You organise that, Vindex. There’s no moon, so it won’t be too light. Keep your eyes open. There are five of us, so first and last ones on watch do a three-hour shift and the rest two hours. I’ll take the middle one, Sabinus the first and Vindex the last because he will be out a couple of times on patrol. All understood?’ They nodded. ‘And don’t worry if I clear off for a bit.’

Vindex sucked in his breath. ‘One of those nights, is it? Or are you going over the rampart?’

‘Might be an idea. Wonder how much Decebalus would pay for a good centurion these days?’

‘A good one, plenty,’ Vindex suggested. ‘But you…’ He patted Sabinus on the shoulder, and now more used to the Britons and their rough ways, the officer only started a little. ‘The centurion here likes playing games at night, my lord. Silures are all like that. Ugly buggers you see, that’s why they go out at night when they can hide.’ Sabinus did not seem reassured.

*

The first arrow hissed into the camp part way through the second watch, flicking a sentry’s cloak without doing any more harm. He turned towards the direction from which it had come before pitching forward, a second arrow in the small of his back. His companion was shouting the alarm, as another flew high overhead and grazed one of the horses.

‘Keep down!’ the decurion screamed. ‘Use your shields!’

Sabinus had leapt up from his blankets, jerked from sleep that had come late and with difficulty. A man pushed into him, then there was a dull smack and the Brigantian fell, the shaft of an arrow sticking from his eye. Someone else screamed in pain, and a horse whinnied and broke free of its tether. The others were stirring, panicking.

‘Get them under control!’ Sabinus shouted and ran to grab the mane of one of the nearest. ‘Whoa, boy, whoa!’ he cooed to the animal.

One more arrow whipped through the air above him, but order was coming to the little camp.

‘Wait for ’em, boys,’ Vindex shouted.

‘Stay together,’ called one of the decurions.

There was silence.

‘Where have the bastards gone?’ someone asked.

‘Quiet!’ snapped the decurion.

A man screamed, some way away in the darkness. There was a grunt, a clash of blade ringing on blade and then a yell so unearthly that Sabinus shuddered and feared that the horse would bolt, so he patted it and ran his hand through its mane. The cry went on, longer and longer until he prayed that it would stop.