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'Caesar!' Narcissus called out desperately. 'Caesar! Stop!'

When Claudius rode on heedless, Narcissus swore and quickly turned to the other officers, who were watching events in amazement. 'Well? What are you waiting for? There goes the Emperor and where he goes his headquarters follows. Come on!'

As the Emperor disappeared into the fog, his staff officers streamed after him, desperately trying not to lose sight of the ruler of the Roman Empire as he raced into danger.

'What on earth is going on?' asked Vespasian. He was standing by his horse at the head of the six cohorts of his legion. With no warning the Emperor and his entire staff had charged from the mound, and what looked like the tail end of a horse race was melting into the mist. He turned to his senior tribune, eyebrows raised.

'When you've got to go, you've got to go,' suggested Vitellius. 'Most helpful of you, Tribune.'

'Do you think we should follow them?'

'No. Our orders were to stay here.'

'Fair enough, sir.' Vitellius shrugged. 'The view's better in any case.' Vespasian stood and watched the far slope where the succeeding waves of attackers had become hopelessly mixed up before any officers had a chance to halt the advance and reorganise their men. 'This could turn into something of a disaster if we're not careful.'

'Hardly an edifying spectacle, is it, sir?' Vitellius chuckled.

'Let's just hope that's the worst that will happen today,' replied Vespasian. He glanced up at the clear sky from where the morning sun now shone brightly, and then down at the mist. 'Would you say it's lifting?'

'What was that, sir?'

'The mist. I think it's lifting.'

Vitellius stared at it for a moment. The white threads of mist were definitely thi

'I believe you're right, sir.'

That the Emperor survived the mad dash right through the middle of his army Narcissus could only put down to some kind of divine intervention. In the dense white mist it was almost impossible to keep up with Claudius. Men scattered to the left and right at the sound of approaching hoofbeats and watched in astonishment as Claudius galloped by, closely pursued by General Plautius and his staff officers. As the Roman lines became more congested, Claudius was forced to slow down, and at last the others caught up with him and fought to clear a path through the packed ranks. As they climbed the slope out of the mist, the full scale of the disorganisation became clear. Across the entire front men were being crushed together. It was worst by the ditches, where those unfortunate enough to be caught in the bottom were wedged in tightly, and any who stumbled and fell were trampled to death on the ground. Only by using the brutal force of their mounts did Claudius and his staff at last gain the palisade and understand what had gone wrong.

Caratacus had foreseen everything. The ditches and the palisade were just a screen before the real defences laid out on the reverse slope. For hundreds of feet on either side ran a system of concealed pits with spikes at the bottom – the 'lilies' so beloved of Julius Caesar – and finally a deep trench and yet another turf rampart defended by a palisade. With no artillery fire to support them, the Praetorian units had been forced to advance into this deathtrap alone, with the Britons fighting them every step of the way.

All across the slope were the bodies of Praetorians impaled on lily spikes or crippled by concealed caltrops, whose vicious iron points went right through the soles of their boots and into their feet. There were only a few paths through the spikes and the Praetorians had been fu

Claudius gazed upon the disaster in horror; Plautius was in a cold rage. Without waiting for imperial approval he shouted out his orders. 'Get a messenger to each legate. They're to withdraw their men immediately. Make for their start markers and wait for further orders. Go!'

As the staff officers fought their way back down the slope, Claudius came out of his frozen state and responded to the orders his general had just given. 'Very good, Plautius – a tactical withdrawal. Very s-s-sensible. But first, let's make good use of this d-diversion. The second can advance r-round the ridge and catch them in the flank. Give the order r-r-right now!'

Plautius stared at his Emperor, dumbfounded by the sheer idiocy of the order. 'Caesar, the Second is the last body of formed-up legionaries we have left.'





'Exactly! Now give the order.'

When Plautius didn't move, the Emperor repeated the order to Narcissus. At once the chief secretary glanced round for someone to ride to Vespasian.

'Sabinus! Over here!'

As Narcissus gave the order, there was a growing roar from the enemy and word passed down their lines that the Roman Emperor himself was within striking distance. Slingshot and arrows from the British lines began to thud down around Claudius and his staff, and the imperial bodyguard hurriedly placed themselves round their master, raising their shields to shelter him. The rest of his companions had to dismount and take shields from the dead as the volume of missiles increased. Looking out from under the rim of a British shield, Narcissus caught sight of a ripple of crimson cloaks in the mass of Britons swarming before them, and the roar in the throats of the enemy reached a fanatic pitch as Caratacus' elite warriors swept towards the Roman Emperor.

'Now we're for it!' Narcissus muttered, before he turned back to Sabinus.

'Understand this. If your brother doesn't move his men up in time, thc Emperor will be lost and the army will be slaughtered. Go!'

Sabinus stabbed his heels into his mount and the beast reared before surging back through the packed ranks of legionaries. Behind Sabinus the roar of the Britons converging on the Emperor's position drowned out the other sounds of battle.

Desperate and confused faces flashed before him as he urged his mount on, brutally clearing his way through the dense mass, heedless of the cries of those men knocked down and trampled by his mount.

At last, the crush of legionaries thi

'Are you serious?'

'Quite serious, brother. To the right of the ridge and sweep round into their flank.'

'But there's a marsh over there. Where the elephants went. Where the hell did they end up?'

'Doesn't matter,' Sabinus said breathlessly. 'Just carry out the order. We might yet win the battle.'

'Win the battle?' Vespasian looked up across the thi

'Just carry out the order, Legate!' Sabinus said harshly.

Vespasian glanced at his brother, and then looked again at the battlefield before he made the decision all his instincts and military judgement told him to make.

'No.'

'No?' Sabinus repeated, eyes wide. 'What d'you mean, no?'

'The Second is staying here. We're the reserve,' explained Vespasian. 'If Claudius throws us away in some hare-brained attack then there's nothing left to meet any surprise the Britons throw at us. Not while the other legions are in that mess.' He nodded across the vale. 'We stay here.'