As the Greek’s expression softened, Macro thrust his sword deep into his armpit and through to his heart with an animal grunt of effort. Diomedes’s body tensed for an instant and his mouth opened with a gasp as the impact of the blow drove the dying breath from his lungs. Then his body went limp, and his head rolled to one side, eyes glazed in death. No one spoke for a moment. Macro wrenched the blade free, and wiped it on the dirty remnants of the Greek’s tunic. He raised his eyes to look at Prasutagus.

‘He said the Great Fortress. Do you know it?’

Prasutagus nodded, hearing the words but unable to tear his gaze from Diomedes.

‘You can take us there?’

Prasutagus nodded again.

‘How far?’

‘Three days.’

‘Then we’d better get moving. The Druids have a day’s head start on us. If we push it, we might catch them before they reach this Great Fortress of theirs.’

When The Eagle Hunts

Chapter Twenty-Seven

‘We’re not going to catch them, are we?’ Cato said to Boudica as he chewed on a leathery piece of hardtack.

After Diomedes had died, they had hurried back to find Boudica to begin their pursuit of the Druids at once. Even after dawn had broken, Macro had ordered that they continue; the need to catch up with the Druids and their prisoners before they could take shelter in the Great Fortress outweighed the risk of discovery. From the rushed translation provided by Boudica, it was clear that once inside the vast ramparts of the fortress, protected by a large garrison of selected warriors — the bodyguard of the King of the Durotriges — the hostages would be beyond any hope of rescue. The general’s family would either be exchanged — if Aulus Plautius allowed himself to be so humbled that it would destroy his career — or they would be burned alive in a wicker effigy under the eyes of the Druids of the Dark Moon.

So the two Romans, and their Iceni guides, had ridden their horses hard all through the night and well into the next day until it was clear that the animals were spent and would collapse and die if they were pushed any further. They hobbled the horses in the ruined pen of an abandoned farm, and gave them the last of the feed carried by the ponies. Tomorrow, before first light, they would set off again.