The young centurion checked himself and stiffened to attention. ‘Of course, sir, you can rely on the Capricorns.’ Ferox had not heard the nickname before, but then since he had spent no time with the legion that was not surprising. ‘Sir?’

‘Yes.’

‘Why are they holding back? They could swarm all over these walls and there isn’t much we could do about it.’

‘My guess is that they’re waiting for dark. If they come now, we will take a lot of them with us.’ He spoke loudly so that the men could hear as well. ‘A hell of a lot of them if I know Second Augusta.’ The legionaries looked pleased. ‘And these Tungrian boys can handle themselves as well. They won’t get in easily and they might not get in at all. So they’ll wait for night and try to overwhelm us. What they don’t know is that we won’t hang around for that.’

‘Sir?’

‘We’re pulling out back to the column, but we have to be smart. Hold here with your lads while I sort out the others. We will pull back from the walls into the centre of the fort before we bring back the men from the gates. We also need to get all the wounded away. Your mules, too. I don’t want anybody to have their pay docked for losing army property!’ A few of the men grinned.

Before he left he had the Tungrians rig up a stretcher from a couple of spears and some cloaks to carry the now unconscious Titus Annius. He got the legionaries to make something similar for their own man wounded in the leg. The heather was burning for a long way along the slope behind them. He looked at the little gap in the rampart that Rufus had mentioned, but saw that the hillside beneath it was ablaze so that they could not use it. That meant the other main entrance, the one near the saddle and in plain view of the Selgovae. The optio of the Tungrians had taken charge of the gateway and had a line of men occupying it. So far no warriors had tried an attack, but a few were skirmishing with javelins and slings, so he had sent his own slingers out to hold them in check and even drive them back some distance. One auxiliary had an injured knee and another man had had his nose smashed, leaving his face swollen and bloody, and there were several bundles of rags down the slope – tribesmen who had not spotted the cast lead bullets used by the auxiliaries. They were harder to see than pebbles and flew straighter because of their even shape, but by now the Tungrians were running low and using whatever stones they could pick up. So far the Selgovae had not noticed and were keeping their distance.