No one cried openly, for that was another rule, but plenty of eyes were moist, not least because a fitful wind stirred the smoke and blew it around. The Tungrians had done their job well, though, and Ferox could feel the heat from twenty paces away, even though the only wood available was damp, so that its smoke was thick and black. Now and again the wind carried the smell of burning flesh, the scent lingering even after the skin and fat must have burned away. It was the smell of death, and he had never cared for the Roman custom of watching a man being cremated. The smoke reminded him of the burning thatch in the old fort and not for the first time he wondered whether or not he had done the right thing in ordering the retreat. Had he killed Annius and all those men or saved the survivors from being surrounded and slaughtered inside the ramparts? Instinct and reason told him that they had had to leave, and that the supports should have come much sooner. He wondered about Flaccus – and about the plausible Crispinus, standing just a few feet away in a black cloak.

With a great flare of sparks, the piled wood collapsed, letting the remnants of the body fall, and soon the remains of Titus Annius, centurion of Legio XX Valeria Victrix and lately commander of cohors I Tungrorum, would mingle with the rest of the ash. When it cooled they would gather some of the ash in an urn and bury it, letting the rest blow on the four winds. The tombstone was already being carved and would be erected in nine days’ time.

It was almost time for the funeral banquet, although thankfully Titus Annius’ will had stated that he wanted this to be simple, a soldier’s meal and not some great feast. They had brown bread and a stew made with salted bacon and hard tack biscuit, all to be washed down with posca, and not just his own men, but any soldier who passed was welcome to join. It ought not to take long, once a libation had been poured, and Ferox was glad. He had never understood the way the Romans would laugh and joke so soon after burning the remains of a friend. Titus Annius had gone on his own journey to the Otherworld or wherever it was that Romans went. Did the man truly believe in the Elysian Fields? Ferox met so many Romans who did not seem to believe in the soul and thought the whole essence of a man ended with death, or slowly faded away into nothingness.