‘Maybe I’m luring you away. Reckon the price on your head must be even higher now.’ That was the first man, now almost below him. His voice was deep, with a different, almost musical intonation. ‘You know what Silures are like.’

Outlandish though it was, the name had stuck in Brasus’ mind. This must be Flavius Ferox, the man hated and feared by Ivonercus.

‘Bastards the lot of them,’ the other man said. ‘Can’t trust ’em for a moment.’

They said no more for a long while. Brasus heard the soft footfalls of their horses as they moved around close beneath him. He tried not to imagine faces searching upwards, of enemies grinning because they had seen the man hanging from the branches. One of the horses whinnied, then shook its head and blew noisily.

‘So what do you reckon happened?’ the second man asked. Brasus wondered if this was Vindex and his instincts told him that it was. No chance had brought him here today. Fate was at work and the will of the Lord of the Heavens. He had known that this was the place and that he needed to be here, and the same instincts told him that he would not die today.

‘Someone shot arrows at them.’

There was a pause. ‘That it?’ Vindex said. ‘Might just have worked that one out on my own.’

‘Given time,’ Ferox conceded. He waited and then sighed. ‘The arrow came from the sort of bows the king issues to his warriors. Bit like our army ones and almost as good. The men were on foot – three, maybe four of them. Don’t think they planned it, or if they did they didn’t plan it well. Probably just saw a chance and took it. Wanted to prove their courage, I guess. They killed all the horses apart from one, so if they wanted those, then they made a mess of it.’

‘So what does it mean? You still reckon war is coming?’

‘Never doubted it for a moment. Why send us here otherwise?’

‘The lass is trying to please the Romans by giving them men.’

‘The lass?’ Ferox sighed again. ‘She’s your queen. Haven’t you Carvetii always been the queen’s folk. Still, given what you used to call her, guess it’s an improvement.’

‘Calling her the queen only makes me sad. You really buggered up there.’ Vindex sniffed in contempt. ‘More than usual, I mean. She’s my queen all right, and a wise one, but… So you reckon the Romans want soldiers from her to help fight a new war. Haven’t they got enough soldiers without this mob?’

‘Maybe they want to keep the good soldiers alive?’

‘Cheerful sod as usual. So we’re humped again.’

‘As usual,’ Ferox said.

‘Aye, as usual,’ Vindex agreed. ‘But everyone’s been telling us since we got here that the war is over.’

‘That’s the old war,’ Ferox told him. ‘We get the new one that hasn’t started yet. Your people never fought the Romans.’