‘Take that axe.’ Ferox had spotted the tool lying a few yards away. ‘And go and help chopping down that granary!’ He pointed at the third one in the line, just visible. As he looked he saw a man prising a wooden shingle off the roof and throwing it down. If they were falling into the alley then they might burn there and spread the flames, so he turned to find someone to organise a party and make sure they were moved.

‘What?’ the man stared open mouthed.

‘That humping great building over there!’ Vindex shouted angrily, realising that the centurion was not listening. ‘The one we don’t want to burn down.’ He grabbed the axe and placed it in the man’s hand. ‘Well you take your chopper like a good little boy and chop the humping thing down!’

‘I am Aelius Hadrianus, legatus legionis.’

‘Oh shit.’

‘Quite.’ Hadrian was shouting over the roaring of the flames. ‘Is that Ferox?’

Ferox had heard. ‘My lord!’ He raised his arm in salute. ‘Now if you would be so good, please take charge of the men working to pull down the granary. It’s our best chance of stopping the fire spreading that way.’

Hadrian stared for a moment, then his beard split as he grinned. ‘Right.’ The grin widened. ‘And I’ll take my little chopper.’

‘Omnes ad stercus,’ Ferox whispered, knowing the sound would be lost with all the other noise.

‘Oh double shit!’ Vindex yelled as flames leapt up from the shingles on the roof of the second granary.

‘Get them out!’ Ferox screamed as he ran towards the loading platform of the building. Brigantes came tumbling out of the open double doors, some with sacks and some with barrels. Three men passed him, then two more. ‘Quickly!’ The heat was appalling, stinging his eyes so sharply that he struggled to keep them open. Another man appeared, panting hard and dropping an amphora to shatter on the planks. ‘You the last?’

The man shook his head, then shrugged. Ferox helped him out. ‘Take him!’ he ordered Vindex. ‘Forget it!’ he called past the scout to a handful of men, including a recovered Vepoc, who were coming to save more of the stores. ‘Help with pulling the buildings down!’

Ferox went to the doorway and looked in, crouching and trying to shield his eyes from the savage heat. He started to shout, but could only cough until he managed to spit. ‘Anyone left?’

There were dozens of amphorae of olive oil stacked at the far end of the building. Some had been brought out, and another dropped so that it shattered and the thick liquid spread. As the roof caught fire, sparks and bits of burning wood dropped down, setting off the oil. Inside the amphorae the oil began to bubble as it heated up.

Ferox saw the silhouette of a man against the sudden flame and then the blaze exploded and a wave of air flung him back out to fall flat on the platform. Someone lifted him, and he recognised Dionysius.