‘I’ve heard people say that he was a god or spirit in disguise.’

Vindex threw his head back and laughed, causing a murmur to run around the men following them. ‘Humpin’ good disguise if it was.’ He thought for a moment. ‘But he’s dead as stone, and you can’t kill a god.’

‘I do not think they meant to kill him,’ Ferox said, rubbing the thick stubble on his chin.

‘That’s kind of them.’

‘Reckon they wanted something from him,’ he continued, trying the idea out as he spoke. ‘Probably wanted him to guide them, and when he refused they slapped him around and he died on them.’

‘Probably just to spite ’em, knowing that miserable git.’ Vindex chuckled to himself. ‘What about the other one? Did he try to help?’

‘No, he must be one of their band. I do not think he was from these parts. Something happened, he broke his leg and that was that. He’d only slow them down, so they killed him.’

‘Nice to have friends,’ Vindex said. ‘Why take the head – and the hand?’

‘That I do not know, but he let them.’ The cut to the neck was neat and from behind. It was a hard thing to take off a head with one blow, and to do it so well suggested skill and practice. Ferox imagined the man meekly waiting, probably a couple of others helping him to kneel in spite of the agony from his leg and one of the others raising his sword, timing it carefully before the downward sweep. ‘They took the hand afterwards. Maybe they have Goat Man’s boy as a guide or maybe he escaped. But I think—’

Ferox broke off, brought his gelding to a halt and held up his hand to stop the others. He swung down and walked forward through the long grass. They were in another little valley, a muddy stream at the bottom, and in one patch the ground on either side was churned and marked with the tracks of horses.

‘Careless,’ Vindex said, but the centurion raised his hand angrily for silence. Ferox crouched, studying the ground some way from the stream.

The Brigantian took the reins of the centurion’s gelding and walked his own horse forward.

‘Twenty, maybe a couple of dozen,’ Ferox said without looking up. ‘A couple with packs and a couple more unridden. Some of the horses are big, and some carrying heavy riders.’