The campaign began with pageantry, as they marched from Vindolanda at dawn amid the ceremony that the army could never resist. At the head of the column were the massed standards of the Batavians and Tungrians, guarded by an immaculately turned-out honour guard from the troops who were to remain in the garrison, their brightly painted shields uncovered. These marched up the via principalis, through the gate and over the causeway between the ditches, before parting to parade on each side of the road.

Crispinus and Cerialis waited until the standards were in position before mounting. They were at the head of the column, and after the trumpets sounded three times Cerialis raised his voice and shouted words Ferox did not recognise, even though he knew what they meant. The prefect was asking his soldiers in their own language whether they were ready to fight.

‘Huh!’ The Batavians bellowed a sound, half animal grunt and half shout of rage. Behind them the centurion Annius called out in Celtic asking his Tungrians whether they were ready, prompting an answering shout of ‘Yes!’ Three times he shouted and three times the cry was returned. That was the normal way, but the Batavians boasted that they only needed to be asked once if they were ready for war. At the rear because they were setting out from the base of other units, Aelius Brocchus spoke in Latin to his cavalrymen and received a whooping reply from his men.

‘Expect we’ll leave eventually,’ Vindex said to his men as they waited at the very rear, behind the baggage train. Some of the Brigantes grinned. Others, who never seen even such a small Roman force muster, just stared in wonder.

At the head Crispinus drew his sword and pointed towards the gates.