There she waited, her belly continuing to swell, while her husband sought a final victory over the man who had so abused his wife. For someone who had fought so long and hard, the end came quickly; it was almost as if the Druid’s powers had deserted him. He seemed incapable of winning a single engagement and failure only accelerated the decline in his military fortunes so that many of his warriors, lacking either plunder or trophies, were led away by their disgruntled chieftains.

Aulus encouraged them and used his already successful tactic to detach them completely, even lenient enough to free some hostages and slaves already captured, at a huge personal cost in terms of money lost. As long as they swore an oath to Rome, and promised to observe the peace, he left them to settle back on their tribal lands. The Averici and the Bregones, who had fought the hardest, were the last tribes to depart. The former, deadly dangerous on their swift ponies, simply disappeared into their mountain fastness, wanting no truck with Rome. Masugori, the Bregones chieftain, took the wiser course. Even although his tribal lands were deep in the interior the young chieftain, newly elevated to the leadership through the death in battle of his father, took the trouble to make a formal peace with Rome, having been advised by his priests that such a thing would in the future protect both him and his people. Aulus, just as keen, treated him as an honoured guest and entertained him in his tent, even invited him to take part in his family prayers, a mark of real respect. Titus was ordered to consort with the senior Bregones warriors, to learn some of their language and study their method of fighting.

But it was the chief who mattered. Masugori was small, swarthy, with soft brown eyes. The gold and silver objects he wore to proclaim his wealth and power, flashing in the light from the dozens of oil lamps that lit the army commander’s tent, seemed too big, too heavy a burden of ornament for such a slight frame.