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Chapters (43)
  1. VINDOLANDA
  2. Adrian Goldsworthy
  3. About Vindolanda
  4. Contents
  5. Dedication
  6. Place Names
  7. PROLOGUE
  8. I
  9. II
  10. III
  11. IV
  12. V
  13. VI
  14. VII
  15. VIII
  16. IX
  17. X
  18. XI
  19. XII
  20. XIII
  21. XIV
  22. XV
  23. XVI
  24. XVII
  25. XVIII
  26. XIX
  27. XX
  28. XXI
  29. XXII
  30. XXIII
  31. XXIV
  32. XXV
  33. XXVI
  34. XXVII
  35. XXVIII
  36. XXIX
  37. XXX
  38. HISTORICAL NOTE
  39. ENDPAPERS
  40. GLOSSARY
  41. About Adrian Goldsworthy
  42. An Invitation from the Publisher
  43. Copyright

‘You have a lot to learn, boy, but may not get a chance.’ Ferox held the sword there, pressing hard enough so that the lad would feel it and know that only a little more force would open his throat to the bone. The young warrior gulped, and although his green eyes stared wide in terror, he did his best to look brave.

Trumpets sounded. Not the vibrating call of the carnyx, but the rasp of the army’s brass cornu-horns and iron trumpets. The Selgovae were chattering, men pointing past the centurion, but Ferox did not take his eyes from the boy.

‘You are brave,’ he said, ‘and it is no disgrace to lose to an older fighter.’

‘Get it over with.’ The lad did not sound like one of the Selgovae and had more of the lilting tone of the Caledonians of the far north. The warriors were going back up the slope, turning to run.

Ferox pressed just a little harder. The boy closed his eyes, but did not flinch. The centurion held the sword there before pulling it back.

The boy opened one eye and then the other.

‘Go!’ Ferox told him. ‘Take him with you.’ He pointed with his sword at the groaning Venutius. ‘Get away if you can and go with honour as brave men who met other brave men. Let us hope that next time we meet in friendship.’ The boy was gaping, so he thought one of Vindex’s favourite expressions might help. ‘Piss off!’ he told him.

The young warrior laughed and leaned down to help the chieftain up. Venutius was bruised, his nose smashed, but he looked at the centurion and gave a gentle nod of his head.

Ferox turned away from them to look at the battered remnants of the Tungrians as they stood, leaning on their shields and panting, struggling to understand that they had survived. Down the slope he saw Cerialis and Brocchus leading turmae of their horsemen over the low spur. They cut some of the Britons down, but the rest were running and most would get away because the horses could not go fast on this ground. There were legionaries behind them, but he doubted that the heavily laden soldiers would catch many of the nimble warriors.

‘Well done, lads,’ he said to the Tungrians, but could find neither the words nor the energy to say more.

XIII

‘THE LEGATE IS delighted, truly delighted.’ Crispinus leaned forward to scratch his horse’s ears. ‘And he is especially pleased with your conduct. Claudius Super assures him that you are one of his best men – at least when you are sober.’