Cato, younger and thinner than the others, suffered most from the cold, and his sleep was fitful and broken. The temperature had dropped below freezing on the second day and the penetrating cold of the frozen earth made his hip joints so stiff that he could barely move his legs when he woke up.

On the fifth day, a mist closed in. Prasutagus left them as usual to scout round the next village. While they waited hungrily for him to reappear with the day’s meal, Boudica and the two Romans prepared a small fire. A light breeze was blowing through the forest, and they had to build a turf windbreak round the fireplace. Cato collected some fallen branches from beneath the nearest trees, every so often pausing to rub his hips and ease the stiffness in his joints. When he had amassed enough fuel to maintain the fire for the few hours it would be needed, he slumped down between Boudica and his centurion, who sat opposite each other on either side of the fireplace. At first no one spoke. The wind steadily strengthened and they clutched their cloaks more tightly about them against the biting cold. A few paces away the horses and ponies stood in sullen silence, lank manes lifting and flapping with each gust.

There were now only fifteen days left before the Druids’ deadline. Cato doubted that they would find the general’s family in time. There was no point in their being here. There was nothing they could do to prevent the Druids from murdering their hostages. Nothing. Five nights of tense scrambling through enemy territory had taken their toll and Cato did not think he could cope with much more. Cold and filthy, exhausted in mind and body, he was in no condition to keep looking for the hostages, let alone to rescue them. This was a fool’s errand, and the hostile glances Macro increasingly threw his way convinced Cato that he would never be forgiven for his stupidity — assuming they ever made it back to the Second Legion.

Above the dark interlace of tossing branches, the sky dimmed into dusk, and still there was no sign of Prasutagus. At length Boudica rose to her feet and stretched her arms behind her back with a deep grunt.

‘I’ll just go a little way down towards the track,’ she said. ‘See if there’s any sign of him.’

‘No,’ Macro said firmly. ‘Sit tight. We can’t take the risk.’

‘Risk? Who in their right mind would be abroad on a day like this?’

‘Besides us?’ Macro chuckled mirthlessly. ‘I dread to think.’

‘Well, I’m going anyway.’

‘No, you’re not. Sit down.’

Boudica remained on her feet and spoke quietly. ‘I really thought you were a better man than this, Macro.’

Cato shuffled himself deeper inside his cloak and stared into the unlit fire, wishing he could make himself disappear.