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Introductions were brief and the meeting began with bad news. The thieves, aware of the danger they now faced from the organizers of the resistance, had immured themselves in a strong house against the town walls. One of them had been captured earlier, however, and had volunteered the information, before carelessly falling to his death from a rooftop, that a messenger had already been sent out the previous day to summon reinforcement from the renegades' base camp some thirty miles away. At least another hundred of these wastrels were on their way to Verulamium, panting in the expectation of riches, and were expected to arrive before daybreak.

That news, unwelcome though it was, when coupled with the surprising numbers of the men commanded by Germanus's small group of leaders, relieved me of the dilemma that had been plaguing me. My cavalry would have been useless in a street fight, but they could smash these oncoming reinforcements in the darkness within sound of the town walls. That would take much of the fighting spirit out of the band waiting to be strengthened here in Verulamium, particularly if they could be prevented from making any kind of sortie to join the newcomers.

Linus, the most formidable of the men Germanus had brought to meet me, assured me that he had close to three hundred men, locals and visitors, willing to fight with him to regain the food stores held by the outsiders. He assured me that his people could contain the brigands while we rode out, simply by turning their fortified house into a prison by sealing the exits. I went with him to satisfy myself that he had the necessary numbers and that they could, in fact, do as he promised they would. That done, I made my way back to camp and immediately began making my own arrangements and instructing my troop commanders.

Six short hours after the meeting at the basilica, dawn was starting to make itself apparent in the eastern sky and there was still no sign of the expected reinforcements for the thieves. My stomach was churning with unease since, with the dawn, I would have to take my men into the town, leaving the enemy at my back. Knowing well the dangers of delay and the growing need for incisiveness, my officers had assembled around me, awaiting my decision. They sat their horses in silence.

We were less than a mile from Verulamium, on the northeast approach, where the road dipped down into a valley at the end of the final straight stretch to the east gates. My men were spread out on both sides of the road, facing north-east. In the darkness, in unknown territory, our choice of terrain had been severely limited, but this was to have been a night action and the enemy would have been massed on the road. Now, with a cloudless sky, my soldiers would be blinded when the sun came up. I heard hoofbeats on grass, approaching fast, and young Yerka, one of my decurions, came at a gallop, pulling his horse to a rearing halt beside me.

"They're coming, Commander, but they're still a long way off, more than two miles up the road and all afoot. Pellus sent word as soon as his men made contact."

I grunted, my mind made up for me by the news. There was no point in our remaining here on the hilltop facing an open valley. The newcomers would turn and disperse the moment they saw us in the gathering light. I turned to my commanders.

"We've nothing to gain by remaining here. The valley there is almost a mile wide. We'll go down into it and move across it, at the walk. By the time we reach the other side, it, should be full light, and the enemy should be within a quarter mile of us. We'll charge up the hill and over, half our force on each side of the road, and our surprise should be complete. They won't outrun us from there, and we'll have them. We'll spread out and overtake them on both sides, ride around them, then turn and take them from the rear, with the sun at our backs. Then we'll chase them down here into the valley and make sure that none of them gets out again. As soon as it's over, we will regroup and return to Verulamium. Move out now."

I rode down into the small valley—which looked for all the world like the dried-up bed of a river far more massive; than the tiny stream that flowed there now—keeping to the road, between our two groups, and gave the signal to halt when we were less than two hundred paces from the northern rim of the valley. I checked right and left, making sure my lines were ready, then signalled the advance. The sound' of our horses' hooves swelled like thunder as we built up * speed, and then we were surging up the side of the valley and breasting the swell of the slope.

My estimate had been correct. The forces opposing us! were less than a quarter of a mile from the rim of the valley ] when we rose into their astonished view, and the far sides of my formations had already extended into their enveloping sweep before I fully became aware of what was happening ahead of us.

In the first place, I had expected to see a rabble of about a hundred ruffians who could be relied upon to halt immediately and then scatter in panic. What I saw in fact, was a force almost equal to my own, but of infantry. And instead of panicking; they were already beginning to deploy into two tight, diamond-shaped defensive formations bristling with long, wicked-looking spears. Everything developed very quickly, almost too quickly, and I barely had time to shout to my trumpeter before it was too late. I saw his astonished face as he heard my order and raised his trumpet to his lips, dragging his horse to a halt. I reined in my own mount, signalling to all who could see me to do likewise, and as the brazen call rang out, loud and clear, I watched my men's fine, dashing charge falter and die.

Less than fifty paces remained between me and the forces now drawn up against us. I held my mount still, watching and waiting as my troopers reorganized themselves, pulling their horses in and around and then converging silently around the enemy force until my own position became merely one point in a circle. There were horsemen among the enemy formations, four that I could see. For a long time, no one moved at all, and an unnatural silence stretched throughout and around the circle. Finally I kicked my horse and moved forward, aware of Donuil and someone else, probably the centurion Rufio, moving behind me. I walked my horse forward until half the distance separated me from the other ranks, and there I stopped and waited. The defensive ranks eddied, then parted, and the four mounted men came forward to meet me. As they came, I studied them, picking out their leader immediately. He was a well-made, handsome man with a great, drooping moustache in the Celtic fashion. I guessed him to be about ten years older than me, in his late thirties. He wore a conical metal helmet with no face guard and leather armour studded with bronze plates, and he rode straight-backed, his head held high to expose the thick, gold chieftain's tore that circled his neck. The other three rode slightly behind him, one of them an enormous man, fully as big as me. He wore a helmet in the Roman fashion, with a tall, horsetail crest and bronze side-flaps that obscured most of his face, but I could see that he was younger than his companions, blue-eyed and clean-shaven. The other two wore full beards.

The leader stopped a horse's length in front of me, and his eyes swept over the men ranged on either side of me. He had evidently appraised my appearance as I had his. When he spoke, in Latin, his voice was deep and pleasant.