Our group was now about halfway across thebreach, angling toward the southern wall opposite the small gateleading to Serdica. This was extremely risky in the sense thatshould the Third and Fifth not be able to hold, the reinforcementscoming to the fortress would enter the northern gate and then be inour rear. This was one of the factors out of my control; I had tobelieve that the men of the 8th, knowing the rest oftheir comrades were depending on them, would hold. In the samesense, the men fighting for the fortress knew that their comradesin the two Cohorts blocking the road were in the same position. AsI moved to catch up, I took a quick glance back, and was pleased tosee that Macrinus had indeed made sure that there were menfollowing us to consolidate the gains we had made. We had now cutoff more than a third of the interior of the fortress and weresqueezing the remaining Thracians into an ever-shrinking space,giving them less and less room to fight. There were pockets ofThracians that had not managed to withdraw with their comrades, andthey were fighting desperately, their fate essentially sealed.Moving next to Gaius, I gave him a cursory check, and despite beingcovered in blood up to his elbows, with a fair amount spatteredacross his armor, I saw that none of it was his. Gaius’ face wasset in an attitude of intense concentration, his mouth turned downas he marked his next target, and I don’t believe he even noticedthat it was me next to him. I opened my mouth to say something, butdid not want to distract him, so I shut it, turning back to findingmore Thracians to kill.
And there were still plenty Thracians left,despite the progress we had just made. The men that Macrinus hadselected, Gaius included, had been as good as I had hoped, andwhile two or three of them had minor wounds, none of them hadfallen, dealing death out themselves without mercy. The ground wasbeginning to be soaked with enough blood that it formed a stickypaste, sticking to our boots, and the men moving in behind us hadthe job of finishing off those Serdi that we had downed but notkilled. I could hear some of them begging for mercy, a few evenshouting out in camp Latin to the man standing over them, offeringthem money, wine, and even sexual favors to avoid being finishedwith a thrust of the short sword, but there was no mercy to be had.Primus had not given any kind of instructions concerning captivesbeing sold as slaves, so the men were working on the premise thatno prisoners were to be taken. I did not care either way; myfortune at this point was essentially made, and money had neverbeen anything more than a means to an end. Now that it was insight, I was not obsessed as some men were. Pushing forward, Iengaged with another Thracian and, for the first time since we hadentered the breach, I felt the nagging pull of fatigue when Ipunched forward with the shield. This Serdi was a shorter, wiryman, lightly armored, and I saw why; he easily leaped backward astep, causing my shield to hit nothing but air. Cursing this manand his determination to be inconsiderate and not just die becauseI wanted him to, I moved quickly to deprive him of the space he hadcreated by his retreat. Every foot we took forward moved us closerto reaching the southern wall, essentially cutting the Thraciansinto two groups. Keeping up the pressure, I punched again, exceptthis time the slippery little bastard dodged to the side, bendinglow enough that only the bottom of my shield hit him. It was aglancing blow, yet because of my strength, it caused him to staggerjust a bit, a look of surprise on his face.
“I’m a bit stronger than you thought, neh?”I grunted, thrusting under my shield before he could fullyrecover.
Still, he managed to twist his body enough,the point of my sword only catching the hem of his tunic that hungbelow his leather cuirass. I heard it rip, but cutting his clothesoff and hoping he would die of cold
