‘They need to fight us as much as we need to fight them,’ he began, deciding that logical argument was more likely to convince this senator. For all his capability, Neratius Marcellus had never once seen battle, and up until now had spent his time on military service in the dull routines of peace. ‘His men will be running out of food by now. Faith and the promise of miracles will keep them here for a while, but not forever. Eventually empty bellies will make the warriors drift home. Before that happens he needs to work his magic and win a victory. This is where he will make it happen. All you need to do, my lord, is give him the chance.’

‘It’s a gamble.’ The legate turned away and paced up and down the small tent. Another man would have needed to duck his head under the low roof. There was silence for a long time and he must have crossed back and forth a dozen times. His friend Ovidius sat on a folding chair and watched him, now and again rubbing his dripping nose. The old philosopher had insisted on coming, and appeared remarkably cheerful in spite of the discomfort and danger.

‘It’s a big gamble,’ Marcellus said at last.

‘I thought that was why we were here, my lord.’

Ovidius chuckled.

‘So be it.’ The governor turned to his friend. ‘Iacta alea est, as they say. It worked well enough for him.’

‘Aneristho kubos,’ the philosopher corrected him. ‘As I heard it, Caesar spoke in Greek.’

‘That must have made all the difference. Well then, I shall roll the dice and see how they fall.’ His smile was thin, his face taut in the flickering light of the lamp. ‘And what do your Silures say when they play a game?’

‘We do not think much of a man who plays, my lord,’ Ferox said, trying to sound more confident than he felt. The Romans were an emotional people, ready to weep and cry out in triumph or frustration, and so many years spent among them had weakened the calm so important to his people.

Marcellus’ face turned hard immediately.

‘We admire only the man who wins,’ Ferox told him.

‘And care little for courtesy, I see.’ The legate punched him softly on the arm. ‘Well, true enough, and I doubt Caesar thought any different. Get some rest. Tomorrow we win.’