‘It was a finger, a small finger. There was a message from the Dark Moon Druids on the strip of cloth that tied it to the arrow. One of the legion’s native scouts translated. It said that the finger was cut off the hand of the general’s son as a warning not to try any more rescue attempts.’

Cato felt sick. ‘I see,’ he muttered.

‘No, you don’t. Plautius left orders with Vespasian that if any harm befell his family, then the head of the senior Druid in Vespasian’s charge was to be cut off and sent to the Durotriges. The others are to be killed at two-day intervals and their heads sent back, until the surviving members of the general’s family are released.’

‘They’re dead the moment that first head arrives, aren’t they?’

‘If they’re lucky.’

‘Has Vespasian carried out the order?’

‘Not yet. He’s sent the daughter back, with a request for confirmation of the orders.’

‘Which Plautius will give, the moment he hears his daughter’s story.’

‘I’d imagine that’s how he might react.’

Cato did some quick calculations. ‘That was two days back. Allow two days each way for the message to reach the general and the order to be confirmed, then a day for the head to be delivered… That means we’ve got two days, three at the outside. No more.’

‘That’s what I reckon.’

‘Oh great…’ Cato looked down at his folded hands, then continued thoughtfully. ‘Unless Vespasian delays carrying out the order.’

‘He might,’ agreed Boudica. ‘But I think he has other plans. Your Second Legion will arrive under the walls of the hill fort in two days’ time. I think he means to storm the fortress as quickly as possible and rescue the general’s family himself.’

Cato was shocked. ‘The Druids would never let it happen. They’d kill the hostages the moment the wall was breached. All we’d find are the bodies.’

Boudica nodded. ‘But what choice does he have? They’re dead either way.’ She looked at Cato. ‘Unless someone gets in there and gets them out before the legion turns up.’

Cato returned her gaze steadily. Just as Vespasian had no choice in his actions, neither did he.

‘We have to try it. There must be a way in. Prasutagus would know.’

The Iceni warrior raised his head at the sound of his name. He had not been able to follow the discussion and was staring into the flames, with an occasional contented glance at Boudica. She turned to him and spoke in their tongue.

Prasutagus shook his head firmly. ‘Na! No way in.’

‘There has to be something!’ Cato replied desperately. ‘Some small opening. Anything. Just a way inside the palisade. That’s all we’d need.’

Prasutagus stared at the optio, bemused by the look of utter despair in his face.