It was getting darker, and not just because of the fires that kept the air thick with ash and unpleasantly hot. Ferox looked for the tesserarius, a quiet veteran with face and arms the colour of teak.

‘Pick a dozen good men and come with me.’ As the man gathered his detachment, Ferox told the optio to keep the men at the gate, but to form the rest up in a deep column inside the fort. The wounded commander arrived, carried by four men. ‘Detail ten men to stay with him at all times.’

Ferox hurried back to the far end of the fort, the tesserarius jogging alongside. ‘What’s your name?’

‘Gambax, my lord.’

‘You and your men wait here, but keep off the path.’ There was a narrow track winding through the centre of the old settlement. Over to their right, the thatch of a burning house collapsed, sending up a flurry of sparks. ‘I’ll be back to take charge, but your job is to cover the retreat of the legionaries, so once they go by, you form a line across the path and hold. Someone else will be waiting to cover us. Understand?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Good. I’ll be back.’

The legionaries had two more wounded, both in the foot or shin where missiles had gone under their shields. Four more corpses in front of the gateway showed that they had thrown back another little attack. Three men too injured to walk, four to carry each of them, and another man with a wounded arm left fourteen fit men to stand with the centurion. Ferox sent the wounded and the carriers back and got Rufus to divide the others into two groups. Seven men went back along the path to where it turned the first corner.

‘Count to fifty and then bring the rest back. If no one is following then get everyone back. I have a covering party waiting to protect you.’ He snatched up a shield left by one of the wounded men, feeling the weight, but glad of the hours he had spent using a heavier practice shield.

Ferox counted in his head and was past fifty before he reached the Tungrians. Turning, he saw the first legionaries come into sight, coughing from the smoke. Rufus and the others appeared a moment later. He beckoned them on, and told the auxiliaries to open out and let them through. Sweat poured down his face from the heat, leaving pale rivulets in the grime from the smoke.

He repeated the count and reached fifty again. ‘Go. Form on the back of the column. I’ll be right behind you.’

The Tungrians doubled away and he stared down the path. The shout came from his left, and he saw a warrior crouching on top of the rampart, calling back to the others that the Romans were fleeing. Ferox followed the auxiliaries.