‘And the other officers?’ Ferox asked.

‘Safe. Prisoners, but the big prize was always Longinus. The Lord Trajan might have pause if the life of a distinguished senator was threatened – but some young sprig of a tribune, let alone equestrians…’

‘They are ten to a denarius,’ Claudia agreed, her fingers feeling the ring marking her own membership of the order. Women did not usually wear this badge of rank. ‘But the rest are safe?’

‘Were when I left, and Decebalus isn’t vicious for the sake of it. Especially when he is hoping to win back some land and then talk.’

Ferox glanced at Claudia, who nodded. ‘I shall see whether the Lady Sulpicia is still awake and give her the news.’

‘Why did you come here?’ Ferox asked after the lady had gone.

Sosius sniffed. ‘Nowhere else to go. My horse went lame, then some warriors found me and chased me. Got as far as the forest before the beast gave out altogether. Managed to deal with the two lads who followed, but they stuck me in the leg and I’d lost all my food. Your fort was the only sanctuary in reach. I can’t see Decebalus being too pleased with me.

‘But look, I could not get too close, but I came around the edge of their camp. Heard them talking about a big attack tomorrow.’

‘Then you are just in time,’ Ferox told him.

Piroboridava

The next day

BRASUS NEVER TRUSTED a servant to sharpen his weapons, so had spent a long while sitting in his tent and honing the falx and his sica with a whetstone. The noise of scraping, and low murmurs of conversation were all that could be heard in this part of the sprawling camp, although now and then there came drunken singing from the Bastarnae. Working on the blades was a simple task, and his mind wandered less than when he had spent all those hours in the cave. For a while at least, he had forgotten the humiliations of the last few days.

Diegis and Rholes had said little as he told them of the failure of his attack on the fort. Neither had criticised him openly, but they had made him report in the presence of dozens of others, and not simply pileati and men of worth, but whoever happened to be riding in their train when he had gone to meet the advancing army. Many sneered, and he heard mockery that was spoken in a low voice, but not hidden, nor reprimanded by the commanders. Brasus had failed, and he knew it, but only by a whisker and they had managed to burn more of the enemy stores.

Brasus had told them that the Romans had an engine capable of reaching the bridge, for his scouts had seen the defenders practising with it some days before. No one had believed him, and everyone seemed to blame him when the stones came slamming down around the bridge, smashing the waggons as they crossed, shattering men and beasts as if they were clay toys. He had suggested that they try going during the hours of darkness and he had been wrong about that. Who could ever have guessed that the enemy was able to guide their missiles with such uncanny precision? Yet he still felt that the leaders had given in too easily and ought to have sent the mules one at a time and then the carts slowly. A few might have perished, but the Romans surely would not realise what was happening every time? In two or three nights, they might have got enough of the essential food and equipment across and the bulk of the army could have pressed on.