‘It’s not a real gate,’ Rufus told him. ‘Just a bit of a gap on the far side where they bring sheep in and out. We came through with the mules.’

The smoke was getting denser and Ferox realised that sparks from burning thatch must have set the bracken and heather alight. It was mainly on the slope of the big valley, but the wind had veered more westerly and was driving the banks of smoke back over the fort.

‘Shields up!’ Rufus’ men braced their big curved shields as javelins hissed through the air towards them. There were dull thumps as the heads struck hard against the leather-coated wood and bounced back, and a high-pitched ping as another deflected off the domed iron boss in the centre of one shield. The legionaries stood three abreast and three deep in the gateway. Each man carried a pilum, the heavy javelin used by the legions and no one else, with a small pyramid-shaped iron head at the end of a slim two-foot-long iron shank attached to a four-foot-long wooden shaft. Its weight gave the pilum a short range, but was concentrated behind that small point to drive through shield or armour as if it were soft butter.

‘Wait for the order!’ Rufus burst into another fit of coughing, but the young centurion sounded calm and confident. The carnyxes were blowing outside, gathering the warriors together and lifting their spirits. With a sudden shout dozens of warriors surged forward at the men in the gateway. They were led by a tall man with a bronze helmet and white horsehair plume waving behind him. He had a long sword and large round shield painted with the symbol of a boar in white. Behind him came others in tunics and trousers, with little shields and javelins or blunt-tipped slashing swords.

‘Wait!’ Rufus stood to the right of the nine legionaries holding the gateway, his unshielded side to the enemy but sheltered by the rampart. Five more soldiers waited just behind him and the rest were formed in ranks ready to support both groups. The piled stone ruins of a house stood on the other side of the gateway, which would make it hard for anyone to come across the rampart there. Even so, Ferox drew his sword and stood ready. Titus Annius was beside him, a shield as well as sword in his hand, and the two auxiliaries from his personal escort on either side of him. Ferox had not seen anyone bring the commander his shield.

‘Throw!’ Rufus shouted to his men and the three legionaries in the first rank took two paces forward, right arms swiftly back before they hurled the heavy pila forward. As they threw the second rank followed them and loosed their own pila. The three men in the rear allowed the same slight pause before they followed. Pila were big and bulky and the slight delay reduced the chances of weapons hitting each other and being wasted.