There were a good five hours left in the day – if you could call the short hours of these autumn days in northern lands good. The Romans pressed on, making little more than a mile in the next hour. To the west band after band of warriors appeared, still keeping their distance but steadily massing. There were not many horsemen, and even fewer chariots, some of which edged forward until they were almost within bowshot.

‘Ten or twelve thousand, I make it.’ Crispinus was riding with the legate and his immediate staff. The young tribune had nodded affably to Ferox, but not said anything about the rout of the cavalry.

Neratius Marcellus said nothing as he scanned the forming battle line. If anything, Ferox suspected that the guess was too low, for this was a bigger force than the one he had seen this morning.

‘What about to our rear?’ The legate’s question surprised him, and he glanced back. So far there were only a few hundred cavalry, the ones that had chased the Romans away this morning. Faced with the entire ala Petriana as well as supports, they proved much more wary, and Brocchus’ men were split into two halves, each one covering the other as they withdrew. Yet the warriors on foot could not be too far behind.

‘Just horsemen, so far, my lord. Be a couple of hours before the rest are any threat.’

‘Good. Then tell me, centurion, what would a wise general do now?’

Crispinus seemed surprised not to be asked, since he was senior, but made no protest.

The answer was simple, if the legate intended to follow the advice and instructions of all the emperors since Augustus. ‘Pitch camp,’ Ferox said, ‘rest up, and be ready to fight a battle tomorrow with baggage safe and the refuge of a rampart in case things go against us.’

‘“Do not go fishing with a golden hook,” the divine Augustus commanded his generals. “For you risk more than you could possibly gain.” Prudence is a virtue in a general, and what you have said is the prudent thing. Then tell me, centurion of Rome and Prince of the Silures, what would you do? What would Caratacus do? Would you gamble once more, with stakes as high as this?’

Ferox managed to stop himself from smiling when he heard the quote. He tapped the hilt of his sword. ‘I’d win, my lord, and you won’t do that by being prudent.’

‘It really is all so simple in the end, is it not? Listen to this man, Crispinus. We may have beaten his people, but that does not mean we cannot learn from them.’

‘But, sir, would it not be better to have a camp built? What if things go wrong?’