‘Have you seen the prefect, little lady?’ Vindex asked in Latin and then in his own tongue. The children just watched them until the Brigantian stuck his tongue out and a little boy giggled. The child cupped his hand around his mouth and did the same thing back at the tall, fierce-looking scout, until the girl cuffed him and started to chivvy them all away. Vindex chuckled and then realised that the centurion had galloped off again. Along the roadside were groups of soldiers preparing big effigies that they would carry in a procession out of the fort. They were made from timber, straw, wickerwork, cloth and anything else ingenuity could devise, and most were shaped like cows or deer. There were also a few shaped like people, two or three times life size, including one in armour, with a high plumed helmet and bright red hair, riding a mule deliberately made to look small and ugly. The whole thing was mounted on a cart with a dozen soldiers waiting to haul it along. Vindex grinned because it was obviously meant to be Cerialis, and he saw the centurion shout something to the men before spurring away when they just pointed at the effigy.

Ferox pounded along the via principalis, the horse’s tread flinging up water and mud because this was Vindolanda and the ground was always wet. He swerved to the right when he reached the junction with the other road, ignoring the principia and riding straight up to the commander’s house. He sprang down and ran to the main door. It was locked and he pounded on the heavy oak.

‘Open up!’ he bellowed. ‘It’s urgent! I need to see the master and mistress now!’ There was no reply, although since the sound of the festivities rumbled on behind him he could not be sure whether or not anyone responded. It was almost the third watch of the night, so late without being so very late, and he could see light from behind some of the shutters on the upstairs rooms. It was hard to believe that the household was asleep. Who could sleep with all this going on around them?

Ferox pounded on the door, using his clenched fists like hammers. ‘Open up!’

Vindex went past him along the side of the house to the alleyway and the entrance to the servants’ quarters and working area of the praetorium. The door hung open, leaning at an angle because the top hinge had been ripped out of place.