The men of the patrol heard the approaching sound of hooves and turned quickly, shields to the front and javelins held ready. A short distance from the patrol Cato reined in a few feet from the rearmost men. Slipping from the horse’s back, Cato ran into them.

‘Who the hell are you?’ demanded the optio in command.

‘Doesn’t matter,’ Cato panted. ‘Have to see the legate! Now!’

‘Who are you?’

‘Quintus Licinius Cato, Optio, Sixth Century, Fourth Cohort. I have to report to Vespasian.’

‘Report?’

‘The enemy are preparing an ambush, ahead in the woods.’

‘Enemy? Where?’

‘They were right behind me. You must have seen them.’

The optio shook his head.

‘But they were there!’ Cato pointed to the top of the hill. ‘Right behind me. Someone must have seen them!’

The men of the patrol watched him in silence and Cato stared back in disbelief.

‘How could you not have seen them? Look, I have to see the legate.’

He turned and reached for the horse’s reins and was about to throw himself up on to its back when the optio grabbed his arm and pulled him away from the horse.

‘Not so fast! You’re coming with us.’

‘What? Look, you don’t understand! I have to warn Vespasian!’

‘I’m sorry, but I have my orders. Now, you’re coming with us.’

As Cato stood in numbed disbelief the optio ordered one of his patrol to take charge of the horse, and then Cato was pushed into the centre of the patrol and forced to march with two men behind him to guard him.

‘What the fuck is going on?’ he shouted at the optio.

The patrol’s commander stepped closer, so that his words would not be overheard.

‘You’re not to speak to anyone until we get back to the camp.’

‘Why? What’s this all about?’

‘All patrols have been ordered by headquarters to look out for you and your mates, and told to bring you in quietly. Between you and me, it seems you’re in deep shit. Now, don’t make it worse. One more word out of you and I’ll have you knocked on the head and thrown over that horse for the rest of the way to camp. Clear?’

Cato opened his mouth to protest and the optio raised his eyebrows in warning. Cato just nodded.

===OO=OOO=OO===

As the patrol approached the camp, Cato saw that the bulk of the Legion had already moved off towards the forest. Only the rearguard remained, forming up and ready to depart. Unless Vespasian was told about the Britons lying in wait, the disaster was unavoidable. Cato searched for any sight of the legate, but in the milling mass of soldiers, artillery trains and baggage wagons there was no sign of the Legion’s commander. The patrol wound its way through the turmoil to report to the officer commanding the Legion’s rearguard. Tribune Plinius looked up from his campaign desk as the patrol approached.

‘What have we here then?’

‘Captured a deserter, sir,’ replied the optio. ‘Rode right into us on some horse he stole.’