The sound of drumming hoofs filled the air and now Cato could feel the vibration through the ground beneath his mount. To his right he heard the officer in charge of the archers order his men to make ready. Then there was a brief stillness over the left flank of the Roman army as they stood their ground and waited for the action to begin. In that moment the sun finally crested the hills to the east and its rays poured over the battlefield, bathing polished armour and weapons in a fiery glitter.

The warm glow was suddenly pierced by the shadowy dashes of the missiles as they were unleashed from the bolt throwers and an instant later the crack of the torsion arms carried to Cato’s ears. He watched the fall of shot and saw a rider plucked off his horse and hurled to the ground. More riders went down, together with horses, but they were quickly swallowed up by the waves of Nubian cavalry surging forward. More bolts slammed into the charging mass, and then the archers added their weight to the bombardment, their arrows angling higher into the sky before plunging down. Scores of Nubians were struck down, and yet it seemed to make little difference to their numbers or break the pace of their charge.

Cato drew his sword and his officers followed suit. Herophilus slipped his left arm through the straps of his shield and took up the reins as he shouted orders to his men, his voice shrill with the strain of being heard above the deafening pounding of hoofs. ‘Close up! Shields to the front! Make ready your spears and prepare to receive the charge!’

There was a shimmer as the long line of spear tips swept down towards the Nubians. The auxiliary horsemen drew their shields in close, covering as much of their bodies as possible. Beneath them some horses stirred nervously until steadied by a press of the thighs or a calming word. The enemy riders had closed to within a hundred paces now and Cato could see individual details. The riders’ mounts were all at full stretch. Their formation had lost cohesion due to the speed of the charge and the loss of those who had been shot down by the archers and bolt throwers. They were still shooting, keeping the range long enough to avoid any danger to their own side, while lashing down on the Nubians at the rear of the charge.

‘Here they come!’ Herophilus shouted, his eyes wide.