‘I have no specific orders concerning Druids,’ countered Vespasian. ‘But the general has made it clear that he wants your lands to be secured before the spring campaign begins. If that means dealing with these Dark Moon Druids, then our interests coincide.’

‘Good.’ Verica eased himself to his feet, and the Romans politely rose from their seats. ‘Now, I’m tired, and I’m returning to Calleva with my men. I expect you’ll want a word with the centurion.’

‘Yes, sire. If that’s no trouble.’

‘None. I’ll see you later then, Albinus.’

‘Yes, sire.’ The centurion saluted as Vespasian led his guest out of the tent, responding to the British king’s leave-taking with as much display of respectful formality as possible. Then Vespasian returned, casting a resentful eye into the empty jug resting on the table, before waving the centurion back into his chair.

‘I take it that Verica is finding the resumption of his rule something of a challenge.’

‘I suppose so, sir. We’ve not had too many problems with the Atrebates themselves. They seem more sullen than rebellious. The Catuvellauni were pretty hard masters. The change in rule might not have improved matters much, but it hasn’t made things worse.’

‘Wait until they meet some Roman land agents,’ muttered Vespasian.

‘Well, yes, sir.’ The centurion shrugged; the depredations of the civil bureaucracy following in the wake of the legions was not his concern. ‘Anyway, Calleva, and the immediate area are pacified. I keep two centuries out on local patrols all the time. A third is doing a wider sweep through the villages that border on the Durotriges.’

‘Have any patrols encountered the Druids?’

The centurion shook his head. ‘Apart from that time I saw them, we’ve never come into contact, sir. All we’ve found is the remains of the villages and the bodies. They’re mounted, of course, and that means they have us at an immediate disadvantage since pursuit is out of the question.’

‘Then I’ll lend you half my mounted force while we’re stationed near Calleva. I need the rest for my own scouting.’

Sixty of the legion’s cavalry scouts were not going to make much of an impact on the Druids’ raids, but it was better than nothing and Albinus nodded his thanks.

‘How’s the training of the locals coming on?’

A flicker of despair showed in the centurion’s expression as the mask of stolid professionalism momentarily slipped.

‘I wouldn’t say it’s hopeless, sir. But I wouldn’t say I’m very hopeful either.’

‘Oh?’