Cato awoke to find himself still stuck in
the same clearing as the night before. The ground had almost completely been covered in snow, except for a patch of dirt around where Cato had been resting. His shoulders and knees felt as though they had been torn from his body.
“Mithras, Lord of Light, give me strength,” Cato muttered, stretching out his stiffened limbs. “What happened last night?”
“Still praying to your Roman gods?” Skoll interjected.
Cato continued to stretch his legs. He felt as though he’d run up a mountain. The clearing gave him a good view of the sky. The cloud cover had cleared up, but Cato could not find the moon. Soon it would be dawn and they would be expecting him to show himself.
“Why not just run?” Cato wondered aloud. “The 9th must be warned. They will reach the Brigantes territory in a few days if not less.”