Vindex came over the lip, followed by the cavalryman, long sword drawn. There was one Batavian trooper in the bottom of the gully, waiting with spear ready to support the rest, and two spilling over the far edge, until the horse of one of them was killed and the rider flung down.

Ferox urged his horse over to the carriage to help the woman. It was narrower than he had thought, so that the side was not much higher than his chest. He sheathed his sword, feeling his anger deflate as he did so, and then he pushed off the front horns of the saddle and jumped on to the overturned coach. The fair-haired woman was struggling to lift another, younger and smaller than her, her black hair unpinned and hanging down on one side.

‘Let me.’ Ferox knelt on top of the open door as it lay flat and took the girl underneath her arms. She had delicate features, but her face was strained and as he hauled her up she hissed in agony and went limp. If she had not been so light he doubted that he could have managed it. There was a heavy gold necklace at her throat.

There were two cavalrymen still up the far bank who turned at bay and for a moment held the Britons back. The third man, and the one who had acted as rearguard, watched their flanks from the flat bottom of the gully.

‘Give her to me!’ Vindex had ridden to the far side of the coach and waited, arms raised to take the unconscious girl. The centurion passed her to him.

‘Oh bugger,’ the Brigantian said, looking back past them, the way that the two men had come.

Ferox followed his gaze and saw eight horsemen coming quickly towards the gully. Several had mail, a few helmets, but the leader wore only trousers, his broad chest covered in intricate tattoos, his hair washed in lime and combed up into spikes. They must have been hidden in the grove of oaks, waiting their moment.

‘That way!’ Ferox pointed. ‘Down the gully.’ He pointed southwards. ‘Go!’ The ground was steeper that way, turning into a little ravine, the banks above it lined with trees. They might manage to get some way down before the Britons caught them, and at least they could make it difficult for them. Apart from that, there was nowhere else to go.

‘You two!’ he shouted at the Batavians in the gully. ‘Watch your rear!’ The nearest man looked back, saw the threat and nodded. ‘Give us as long as you can, then follow.’ He pointed down the gully. One of the men up on the far bank tumbled down the side, his dying horse following.