He looked towards the centre and there was another lull in the fighting. It was strange to see the backs of the Britons rather than the Roman cohorts. Second Augusta did not seem to have made any ground, but they had not lost any either, and instead the two lines had fought until they were spent and then shuffled back so that they were a couple of spear lengths apart. He could see the six signa of the cohort clustered together in the centre of their line, but could not see the legionaries. The Britons were massed, fifteen, maybe twenty deep in places, and if the Stallion was still with them he would be whipping them up into a fresh frenzy. Ferox wondered whether II Augusta could hold and was pleased when he saw arrows arching high over the cohort and landing among the dense mass of enemy. Someone must have seen the danger and sent the archers to support the legionaries. In the centre the Batavians had made a little ground, but were still hugely outnumbered, and as the snow flurries became heavier he could not see the left flank and could only hope that XX Valeria Victrix and the cavalry were holding their own.

‘Right, lads, back we go to where we started,’ he said, running the blade of his sword through the mare’s mane to clean off the blood. ‘Go again before they start counting.’ A few of the men grinned, for there were hundreds of warriors in front of them and they were gathering together again, many of them turning to face the Romans who were now behind them. Yet if Flaccus sent the legionaries and the other horsemen charging in from the other side then they might still panic and flee.

‘Sir!’ Masclus pointed past the Britons to where the legionary horsemen were wheeling away to face north. For just an instant the snow slackened and Ferox glimpsed one of the cohorts of VIIII Hispana from the second line also turning away from the main battle. The reserves were shifting to meet a new threat at the very time the battle was balanced on a knife edge.

With a dull roar the Britons facing II Augusta went forward again, forcing weary limbs and fading spirits to try one more time. Ferox hoped that the legionaries could hold, for there was now nothing behind them.

‘Come on, those people have lived too long already,’ Ferox called to his men, his sword pointing at the re-forming Britons. Vindex laughed, his eyes wild.

‘Charge!’ There was no point building up the pace gradually. Horses and men were tired and it was just a case of getting them to go at the enemy as fast as they could. His men did not cheer, saving their strength for the fight, but they followed, a ragged line two ranks deep.