Ferox had not yet spoken again about the tattooed priest who had led the raiders, for Romans tended to become hysterical when they heard words like priest or druid, and Claudius Super would once again dismiss him as alarmist and certainly would not understand. Lots of men and some women called themselves druids these days, and most were wandering healers and magicians of no importance, preying on the superstitious, but without real power or any reputation. This one was bold, daring to break the sign at the Mother and Daughter and scratch the images on to the stones. Then there were warriors, each tattooed on forehead and left hand. They were not marks he had seen or heard of before among the tribes – and neither had Vindex, who knew the peoples to the north well. Warriors liked to look different, not the same, and he had never heard of any people marking themselves with such prominent and identical symbols. That meant that they must mean something, and he wondered about oaths to gods or to follow their servant on earth. Yet alongside these fierce but inexperienced followers there had been other warriors, not marked in the same way, as well as the big man. Ferox was still convinced that the giant was a German, and was equally sure that he was not a deserter. That begged many questions that he could not answer.

On the fifth morning Ferox attacked the post with unusual savagery. He found that he thought best during this exercise, going through the proper guards, cuts and thrusts and quite a few moves of his own. He was not aching as much as in the first few days, but his mind was weary. He had been roused before dawn by a farmer claiming that thieves were taking his cows. Hastily dressed and accompanied by Victor, he had given chase. The trail was easy to follow and stretched no more than five miles to a farm in another valley. The head of that household was muddy and travel-stained and did not bother to deny the charge, insisting instead that he had only taken back what was his. There was much shouting, swearing of oaths and a few threats, the noise fuelled as neighbours wandered over to see what was happening. Ferox was still not sure of the truth of the matter, but suspected villainy on both sides. The men agreed to be judged by two chieftains, one to speak for each man, with the centurion to arbitrate and give the casting vote. It would almost certainly come to that, since he would be surprised if the chiefs did not simply back their dependant whatever the truth of the matter.