‘How should I know?’ Ferox tried to hide his bitterness. ‘If we keep our heads above water maybe we can swim to shore or last a little longer before we drown.’

‘Lost me there.’

‘It’s a saying among the Silures.’

‘Cheerful lot, aren’t you?’

Ferox swung back up into the saddle. ‘What is there to be cheerful about?’ he said, and set Frost off at a canter.

XXIII

THE BATAVIANS DID not know Samhain, but they had their own festival to herald the approaching winter. It began earlier, at dawn instead of sunset, and the rites continued after the sun went down so that for one night the two festivals overlapped. Ferox and Vindex saw the glow of the bonfires off the low clouds long before they could see the fort. In the settlement outside, several locals gathered to sacrifice a bull in the traditional way. The centurion saw one man had even found a flint knife and watched as he delivered the first cut to the animal’s throat. Other people watched – Romans, Spaniards, Pannonians, and the gods only knew how many other races – curious enough come out and see the rituals and sensible enough to feel that even witnessing them might bring good fortune.

Inside the fort, the Batavians took over. Ferox saw one of the Tungrians he had fought alongside in charge of the guard at the porta praetoria. The man saluted and then offered an acknowledging nod.

‘Any trouble?’ Ferox asked him, raising his voice to be heard over the chants and shouts. ‘Anything odd?’

The auxiliary shook his head. ‘Just this lot trying to deafen the gods!’ He jerked his thumb at a Batavian, his fur-covered helmet tipped low over his forehead as he leaned against the corner post of the tower’s lower platform. The sentry did not move and although there was a glint from his open eyes it was clear that he could see and hear very little. On any other day he would have earned a flogging for being incapably drunk on guard, but this was not any other day or night.

‘If the enemy comes he’ll just have to puke over them,’ the Tungrian said. Vindex laughed, and then followed the centurion as he kicked his weary horse under the gate.