He sent a messenger back to the main force, choosing Victor from the half-dozen troopers with him because he knew and trusted the man.

The sun had gone, the sky once more an unbroken sea of dirty clouds, so that the day had become darker rather than lighter. Up on the ridge an icy wind gusted into them, making them lean into it to keep their balance.

‘Least it’s not raining,’ Ferox said to Vindex as they waited and watched the enemy.

‘Not yet.’

The Britons did not advance. Their numbers kept growing and over time the line more clearly became a row of dense masses. Even if they had answered the Stallion’s call to war, Ferox suspected that most men were seeking out their kin to stand beside if it came to a fight. He fought the urge to go forward and take a closer look, and instead remembered the provincial legate’s instructions. There were four or five hundred horsemen in plain sight on each flank, but almost everyone else was on foot. From up here he could see few chariots, which meant that not many important chieftains had joined the cause. That is if they were not simply waiting behind the ridge, ready to make a triumphant entrance just before the battle. The little he had seen of the Stallion and his followers did not suggest any great subtlety in the way the man did things, but if important leaders had joined him then he would not be in sole charge and some of them would be old and wise in war. Then there was the great druid, if he was over there somewhere, a man famed for his deceptions and magic. For the moment the Britons waited and Ferox wanted to do nothing to provoke them.

Others did not share his caution. The decurion in charge of the first turma to reach them was young and eager, and it took a direct order to stop him from riding forward on his own and challenging the enemy to single combat. Fortunately he was from the ala Petriana and Ferox knew enough about Brocchus to be confident that the prefect would frown on such glory-hunting.

Crispinus and Flaccus were another matter, and when the two tribunes rode up at the head of the main body of the vanguard, they looked like two boys who had just been told that their schoolmaster was sick and would not be back for a week.

‘We have them!’ Crispinus almost shouted the words, waving his hand along the great length of the enemy host.

‘Yes, bet we’ve got them worried,’ said Vindex under his breath.

Flaccus’ eyes betrayed a moment of anger before he made the decision not to hear anything said by so insignificant a person as a scout from one of the tribes. ‘It’s almost like an arena,’ he said. ‘Just perfect.’