Centurion

Sempronius nodded and spoke calmly. 'I will see to it that the orders are given, Prefect Cato.You have my word.' The ambassador switched back into Greek and turned to the chamberlain, who had been sitting in silence during the exchanges.

'Thermon, my friend, you heard it all. You must summon the commander of the garrison. The attack must begin as soon as possible. On the king's orders, understand? '

The chamberlain nodded, and turned to the king. 'Your majesty?'

'What?' Vabathus looked up wearily and saw that they were waiting for his response. He waved a hand flaccidly. 'Do as you wish.'

The chamberlain bowed and quickly backed out of the room as Sempronius beckoned to Cato.

'Prefect, I understand you have one of the prince's slaves with you.'

'Yes, sir.'

'Have him take you to the gate tower. There is a signal station there. You may light your beacon the moment the garrison begins its attack. Then,' he nodded to Cato's bloodied hand, 'you'd better get that seen to.'

08 Centurion

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

'There's the signal!' Balthus rose quickly to his feet and stared towards the tower.

'Hmmm?' Macro mumbled, as he stirred from the spot where he had been resting. He had very nearly committed the unforgivable sin of falling asleep on duty. What the hell had come over him? Macro briefly discounted the lost sleep of the last days of the march from Antioch. He had marched and fought in more difficult campaigns before without letting exhaustion get the better of him. Perhaps it was just age, he mused wearily as he scrambled to his feet and stood beside the prince. Balthus pointed over the wall and the sprawl of the city towards the citadel. Above the torches that flickered along the ramparts was a brighter blaze that flared with greater intensity even as Macro picked it out.

'Are you sure that's the one?' asked Macro.

'I'm certain of it.'

'Then let's get moving.' Macro turned round to the officers who had been sitting on the ground, but now approached in response to Balthus' excited cry. Macro drew himself up to his full height, and rubbed his buttocks where they had grown numb as he sat waiting.

'Gentlemen, this is going to be swift and bloody. You have your orders; make sure you follow them precisely. I don't want any confusion when the attack goes in. Get the lads up and let's get moving.'

He exchanged a salute with his officers and returned to the side of Prince Balthus. 'We'll follow your men the moment you begin the attack. Good luck… sir.'

Balthus gri

With a swirl of his robes, Balthus turned and ran to his horse, snatched the reins from the hand of the auxiliary who was holding it ready, and threw himself up into the saddle. In the darkness behind him the rest of his retinue mounted and when Balthus saw that they were ready he drew his curved blade and raised it above his head, calling out a command to get their attention. He paused a moment and then swept his sword towards the city gate with a strident shout. With a chorus of cries his men urged their mounts into a gallop and a dark tide of horsemen surged out of the desert night towards the eastern gate of Palmyra.

The moment the charge began Macro filled his lungs and bellowed the order for his two cohorts to advance. As they followed the horsemen at a steady trot Macro saw fire arrows arc down from the distant ramparts of the citadel and realised that the diversionary attack was under way. His heart was lifted by the knowledge that Cato had succeeded in getting through. Macro and his men had concealed themselves no more than a quarter of a mile from the eastern gate in order to reach it before the enemy could react, but he knew that the plan would only work if Balthus and his men moved quickly.

Ahead, by the light of the torches burning above the gate, he saw the first of the rebels fall to the arrows of the mounted archers. Some of the men guarding the gate snatched up spears and shields and stood their ground. A handful of others fled for the safety of the city, while a handful of men appeared along the wall, alerted by the thunder of hoofbeats rushing towards the gate. The more courageous of those who remained raised their shields to protect them from the arrows shooting out of the mass of horsemen. A rebel officer, with commendable presence of mind, called on them to form ranks, and before the horsemen could reach the gate they were confronted by a small wall of shields between which spears angled towards Balthus and his men, causing them to swerve aside.

Macro drew his sword and shouted over his shoulder, 'Charge!'

The men broke into a run behind him, breathing hard as their equipment chinked and their iron-shod boots pounded over the hard ground. While Balthus and his men closed round the band of soldiers defending the gate, slashing and hacking at their shields and the shafts of their spears, behind them the doors were slowly being closed as the men inside the city heaved against the heavy slabs of studded timber. Macro watched in desperation as he sprinted forward, already passing through the rearmost riders of the prince's force, steadying their horses as they raised their bows and traded shots with the archers on the battlements above the gate. Macro dodged round the back of a rearing horse, its rider grappling with the shaft of an arrow that pi

Macro gritted his teeth and ran for all he was worth, heart pounding wildly as he burst through the loose maul of horsemen and charged across the strip of open ground that separated them from the rebels. With a deep roar he hurled himself at the last three still outside the gate.They started at the sound of his war cry but stood their ground and lowered their spears, ready to thrust. Macro raised his shield and swung it across to cover his body and felt the tip of a spear glance aside as he struck the shaft of another with his sword, knocking the point away and down where it could not harm him. The third man just had time to stab his spear towards the centurion's face and Macro snatched his head down, wincing as the spear tip glanced off the side of his helmet just above the ear guard.Then he ca

The last of the defenders had dropped his spear in his desperation to slip through the narrow opening that remained. Macro pounced on the weapon and stabbed it through the gap between the edges of the doors.They jarred on the spear shaft, which started to bend so that Macro feared it would snap. He stabbed his sword into the side of the man still standing pressed against the timber, and then threw his weight against the other door.

'On me!' he bellowed over his shoulder. 'Force the gate!'

More legionaries arrived and thrust themselves against the hard wooden surface, and more men pushed into their backs, boots scrabbling for purchase as they heaved against the doors. On either side, the ladder parties had reached the wall and were raising their assault ladders towards the battlements. Macro could hear the shouts from inside the wall as the rebel officers urged their men on, desperately struggling to close the gate and deny their enemy access to the city.