Cato well knew that any attack would have to be preceded by a lengthy bombardment of the defences. Only then could the legionaries attempt to force a breach. What if the defenders proved resolute enough to drive the Romans back?

A desperate thought struck Cato; his mind raced, quickly sketching out a crazy plan, fraught with terrible risks, but it might give them one last chance to save Lady Pomponia and Aelius from the flames of the wicker man.

‘Sir, there might still be a way to rescue them,’ Cato said quietly. ‘If you can spare me twenty good men, and Prasutagus.’

When The Eagle Hunts

Chapter Thirty-Four

Long before dawn, the ground before the main gate to the hill fort was filled with the sounds of movement: the rhythmic thumping of heavy piles to compact the soil and level the ground to form artillery platforms; the endless trundling of wagon wheels as artillery carts were brought forward to unload bolt-throwers and catapults. Men strained and grunted to heave the heavy timber mechanisms into their sockets. Ammunition was unloaded and stacked by the weapons, and then their crews began a systematic check of the torsion cords and ratchet winches, and carefully lubricated the release mechanisms

The Durotriges had lined the walls of the gate defences, straining to see what was going on in the darkness below them. They tried loosing fire arrows in high shimmering arcs towards the Roman lines in the hope of glimpsing the nature of the Roman preparations. But the poor range of their bows meant that none of the arrows even cleared the outer rampart, and they were left in ignorance of the enemy’s plans for them. Roman skirmishers had pushed forward under cover of darkness and fought vicious little actions with Durotrigan patrols on the approaches to the main gate, and finally the natives had tired of trying to break through and pulled everyone back inside the palisade to await the dawn.

At the first hint of the sky lightening Vespasian gave the order for the First Cohort to move up to their start line and make ready to advance. Small teams of engineers, carrying ladders and a battering ram, accompanied them. One century had been issued with composite bows to provide close fire support when the cohort was ready to force the main gate. All of them stood ready, dim ranks of silent men, heavily armoured, weapons sharpened and hearts filled with all the usual tensions and misgivings about such a dangerous assault. Fighting a setpiece battle was nothing compared to this, and even the rawest recruit among them knew it.