In the distressing aftermath of the raid on Viroconium they worked unflinchingly to pull bodies from the wreckage and help bury the dead. The bloody, battered, the sometimes roasted dead. Mercifully the Saxons had not mutilated anyone, they simply slaughtered those who got in their way. But their methods of slaughter were messy in the extreme. At first the ironmaster and the other survivors looked to Vintrex for leadership, but it soon became obvious that the old man was incapable. Cadogan did his best to help his father retain a semblance of dignity, though it was no use. Like a child, Vintrex trailed along behind his son, leaning on his steward, waiting to be told what to do. Cadogan, who never sought the role and did not want it, became the tacit leader. He quickly learned not to examine the corpses. Not to recall their names, not to imagine the pain they had suffered nor to agonize over their fate. None of it could be undone. He could function only if he thought about what to do next and planned the next step, no matter how insignificant it might be.
