‘We didn’t do it – not that we didn’t want to after finding the boy. He strayed from the rest. Told us a dream told him to look for a sacred oak and cut a branch from it. He left a track a blind man could follow and we took him by surprise. Knocked him around a bit to get answers, though in truth he talked readily, boasting almost, so knocking him about was more for fun.

‘The next day we had him with hands tied behind his back and a man leading his horse, when he just starts chanting. On and on he went in a nasty, high-pitched voice. Then all of a sudden his horse gallops off and he flings himself down. Head hit a stone, lights out forever. Think it was deliberate, but can’t be sure.’

‘That is a pity.’

‘Aye. Still, he told us a lot. The Stallion and his men set out from the far north-east, sent by a high king of the Vacomagi. Said he didn’t know his name.’

Ferox whistled through his teeth. ‘Didn’t know the Vacomagi had a high king.’

‘Well, that’s what he said, and from the way they were going they were heading that way. The lad claimed this king realised the truth of the gods’ purpose for this great Stallion or horse’s arse or whatever he’s called and gave him warriors and horses to help in his quest. Some of the warriors were from deep beneath the sea, summoned to help by the great druid.’

‘Not horse’s arse?’ Ferox asked.

‘No, this one is different, much more powerful. The lad said something about the Stallion being a great storm to sweep the land clean, while this great druid is part of the land itself. Old and wise, he is able to change his shape and work even greater magic. They say he walks among the Romans when he wants and they do not see him. That he can make them turn their swords on each other. He wasn’t with the raiders, but they saw him now and again, shaped like a raven and flying above them.’

Ferox listened as the Brigantian continued, telling everything he had learned about the Stallion and this carefully planned raid..

‘What did they want to do?’

When Vindex told him the room turned cold, even on this bright day and with a good fire burning.

‘Bad times,’ he muttered.

‘Aye.’

VI