Ferox waited. The song made him think of Sulpicia Lepidina, and of Galla lying beside him. Such thoughts helped to keep away the cold, but he could not let them distract him or make him drop his guard. The moon rose and the stars turned as the hours passed, and it was not until sometime in what must have been the third watch that he heard a low scraping sound. He waited, eyes just above the lip of the gully, head covered by the dark hood. There were shapes moving up the slope of the hill. Three shapes, crawling slowly and with care. The leader stopped and hissed something back at the men behind. One shifted, sitting up, and Ferox guessed that he was adjusting the scabbard, which had scraped on the ground.

Three men meant that there were two more out there somewhere, but he could not see them and had to trust that Vindex could cope if they attacked from another direction. Ferox ducked back into the gully and edged his way along it, trusting to the chuckling of the water to mask any sounds he made. After a while he stopped, but could hear nothing apart from the brook, so peered over the bank. He was level with the hillock and could see Vindex sitting next to the fire, humming to himself. The horses shuffled and shifted in the way resting horses always did, and he could just make out the saddles wrapped in blankets that were supposed to imitate his own sleeping form.

One of the men was lying on the crest of the rise, while the other two crept around the side. These men were far more skilful than the ones he had met outside the camp weeks ago. Yet they were not Silures. The two men crawled along next to each other, making a larger, darker shape on the grass than if they had spread out. Metal glinted in their hands, which meant that they were carrying weapons, probably knives. Vindex sat still, now and then stirring up the fire. It must have taken a lot of willpower for him not to turn and notice the men creeping towards him.

Something moved, far beyond the camp, and Ferox saw the taller outline of horsemen, walking slowly forward. There were two long spears in their hands, their sharp points gleaming. Vindex pretended not to see and started to sing in a low voice. He did not have a good voice, and the sound was harsh and discordant. Ferox heard one of the crawling men snigger. They were level with him now, little more than twenty paces from the little camp, and he began to ease over the lip of the gully.