While the centurions hurried back to their units, bawling out their orders, the villagers quickly loaded the salted beef into the back of one of the supply wagons. As soon as the column was formed up, Hortensius waved the cavalry scouts on ahead and then gave the order for the infantry to advance. The haunted faces of the Atrebate villagers were eloquent testimony to their dread of being left undefended once again, and the headman begged Diomedes to persuade the cohort to stay. The Greek had his orders and politely but firmly made his apologies and hurried after Hortensius. As the Sixth Century, on rearguard duty behind the last of the wagons, marched out of the village gate, Cato felt ashamed to be deserting them while the Druids and their Durotrigan henchmen were still raiding along the frontier.

‘Sir?’

‘Yes, Cato.’

‘There must be something we can do for these people.’

Macro shook his head. ‘Nothing. Why do you ask? What would you have us do?’

‘Leave some men. Leave one of the centuries behind to guard them.’

‘One less century makes the cohort that much weaker. And where would you stop? We can’t leave a century in every village we pass through. There’s not enough of us.’

‘Well, weapons then,’ Cato suggested. ‘We could leave them some of our spare weapons in the wagons.’

‘No we couldn’t, lad. We might need them. In any case, they’re not trained to use them. It’d be a waste. Now then, let’s hear no more about it. We’ve a long march ahead of us today. Save your breath for that.’

‘Yes, sir,’ Cato replied quietly, his eyes avoiding the accusing glare of villagers standing beside the village gate.

For the remainder of the day the Fourth Cohort trudged along the muddy track leading south to the sea and a small trading settlement which nestled beside one of the channels leading into a large natural harbour. Diomedes knew the settlement well — he had helped to build it when he had first landed in Britain many years earlier. Now it was his home. Noviomagus, as it had come to be known, had grown rapidly and acquired a happy mixture of traders, their agents and their families. The incomers and their native neighbours had lived side by side in relative harmony over the years, according to Diomedes. But now the Durotriges were raiding their land, and the Atrebates blamed the foreigners for provoking the Druids of the Dark Moon and their followers. Diomedes had many friends, and his family, at Noviomagus, and was concerned for their safety.