‘I will vouch for you, and I’ll say how you saved us tonight. That will count for something.’

‘I’ll come back with you, if you want me to, sir,’ the man said, voice glum. ‘I took the oath seven years ago. Don’t really know anything else anymore.’

‘There might be a better way,’ Ferox said, and saw hope in the soldier’s face. ‘Will your girl and her family still shelter you?’

The man nodded. ‘Think so. I help out, you see.’

For once Vindex did not snigger.

‘Come south with us for the moment, but then go and hide with these folk. Find me at the burgus in ten days. By then, I may have been able to sort things out. I shall do my best, at the very least.’

‘Thank you, sir. I am grateful.’

‘Grateful enough to stand guard for a couple of hours?’ Vindex’s eyes widened at this display of trust, but the Brigantian said nothing.

‘Of course, sir. Happy to do it.’

‘Good.’

They saw no one for most of the next morning, and then only a few groups in the far distance. It might have been a flock of sheep, but they moved with more purpose than that and Ferox was sure that it was a group of warriors. A little later they saw the ravens and other carrion fowl circling up ahead. They were nearing a trackway that could not be described as a road, but was a fairly clear route running east to west and was used by a lot of people, including the army.

The first body was stripped naked, the skin very pale except on the lower legs, arms and neck where the sun had caught it. Its head had been taken, but the man had a Roman eagle and the letters SPQR tattooed on his chest. Gannullius sighed, for it was obvious that the man was a soldier. There was a big wound in his back and at least he had died quickly. There were two more dead soldiers a little further along, their severed heads impaled on stakes next to the naked bodies. Their hands were bound behind their backs, there were scars on their arms and legs, pieces of flesh cut away as if by a butcher, and it was obvious that they had suffered a lot before they were killed.