When Ajax had led his exhausted men out of the swamp and into the village, the headman had greeted them nervously. He had wisely offered water and food to the column of armed men. As Ajax’s men had thirstily gulped down the water the villagers brought to them, he had seen the place’s potential as an ambush site. Hemmed in by the dyke and reeds on one side, and the tangled mangrove on the other, the village was a natural chokepoint. Ajax knew that he was being closely followed by a handful of lightly armed Romans and saw the opportunity to be rid of them. Twenty men were left behind in hiding as the rest pretended to move on. The Romans had followed their trail, past the place of concealment, and then the trap was sprung. Caught between the men who had been hiding and Ajax and the main body who turned about and charged back into the village, the legionaries had been quickly cut down.

The success of the ambush had prompted Ajax to consider repeating it on a larger scale, against the main column of Romans who would be sure to be following up on their scouts. This time the headman ordered them to leave the village, fearful of the reprisals that the Romans would carry out against his village if they found the bodies of their comrades. Ajax had ordered the villagers to be rounded up and held in the goat pen to prevent any of them escaping to warn the Romans. However, the villagers had begun to wail fearfully and were heedless of his demand for them to be silent, even when he had threatened them with violence.

There had been no alternative, Ajax told himself. He had not wished to have the villagers’ blood on his hands, but the safety of his men came first. The Romans could not be alerted to the danger. The order was given to his most reliable men and they entered the animal pen and slaughtered the villagers. Years of training in Roman gladiator schools meant they were accustomed to obeying orders immediately, just as they had become hardened to the suffering of others. It was over swiftly and when the last of the dying screams had faded, the village stood still and silent, waiting for the arrival of the Roman column.

Karim finished tying off the dressing round the Nubian’s arm and nodded at the man to withdraw from their presence. He wiped the blood off his fingers on the rim of his filthy tunic which stank of sweat and the stagnant odour of the swamp.

‘What now, General?’

Ajax glanced at him, wondering if Karim was mocking him. His followers had always referred to him as their general, and in time Ajax had come to insist on the title. Karim used it in front of other men but usually he spoke frankly and without deference when they were alone.