Pulling his sword, he used the flat side toswat at men, beating them back up the hill, shouting at them allthe while. Arrows were thudding into the ground, the fleeing mencrouching in an effort to make themselves smaller targets, yet theydid turn back to man their weapons. Inevitably some of the missilesfound a fleshy target and men fell to the ground, some writhing inpain while others lay still, their life snatched from them in theblink of an eye. The sound of the arms of each scorpion beingratcheted back was welcome to all of our ears, while I had my eyesglued to the rampart of the fortress, watching for the first signthat the enemy was dragging their own ballista into firingposition. I thought I saw the upraised arm of at least one peekingfrom between the crenellations, before it dropped out of sight asit was pulled back to its own cocked position. Immediately to theright of where I saw the ballista, a Serdi poked his head upfor just an instant, ducking back just as one of our scorpiongunners spotted him, sending a bolt whizzing right through the spotwhere he had been an instant before. I had Caldus sound the callfor the medici and stretcher bearers to come help ourwounded off the slope. I did not like the idea of exposing thenoncombatants to danger, but I could not let men lie in the dirtwhen they could be helped. Over the sound of the scorpions, nowhard at work scouring the remaining archers from the rampart Iheard a familiar slamming sound and looked up just in time to see afiery mass hurtling in our general direction, trailing smoke behindit. Another alarmed shout went up, except the men did notimmediately move, trying to track the flight of the Greek firemissile with their eyes so they would have some idea which way tojump if it came close. Fortunately, the shot went long, landingpast the plutei and artillery, just short of the valleyfloor and road, where the medici and stretcher bearers werebeginning to make their way to the wounded. Fire splattered in along, narrow strip when the jug carrying the concoction shattered.Fortunately, it managed to miss the men, but it was close.Immediately after the impact, our own ballistae beganfiring, robbing the Thracians of their opportunity, although thisdid not stop them from firing blind for a bit. After the first shotfrom each ballista, most of them missing the damaged spot byvarying degrees, the heavy artillery found its range again, thistime the damage clear to see with almost every shot. The hole thathad been started the day before grew wider and deeper, large chunksof the rock wall and masonry falling with a dusty crash down aroundthe front of the gate. No light could be seen through the hole,telling me that the wall had not been penetrated, but according toFlavianus that did not matter. It looked very much like the wallwould collapse very quickly, so again I summoned Caldus, this timeto sound the call for the Legions to assemble at the base of theslope, the closest point they could gather without being underfire. I fully expected when the breach happened that the Thracianswould start firing everything they had, aiming in the generaldirection of the expanse of ground leading up to the fortress.After discussing it the night before, it had been decided that theFirst of the 8th would lead the assault, with Macrinusleading the way, followed by the Sixth. For once the Seventh wouldbe in reserve for the 8th, making me happy. This was the order themen were in now, crouched on the ground, watching the fortressintently, as was I. It was about then that there was a commotiondown the hill, back in the direction of camp, and I turned to seeMarcus Primus and Masala trotting up. The Praetor was dressed inhis military uniform, the potbelly of his cuirass catching the raysof the morning sun, his ridiculous plume standing up high above hishelmeted head. He passed through the men, who naturally all stoodto come to intente, but he paid them absolutely noattention, looking straight ahead. I was sure that he thought thatthis was what all generals did before a battle. Of course he couldnot have been more wrong. Climbing the hill to where I wasstanding, he did actually return my salute, yet his eyes werefastened to the sight before him. I thought that he would bepleased at the progress we had made, except he was anythingbut.
“Why hasn’t the wall collapsed?”
He stared balefully at it, as if his gazeitself could make it tumble down.
“We just began the bombardment a short whileago,” I replied, bemused by his reaction.
“But there’s a big hole already. Shouldn’tthat be enough?”
“Apparently not, because there it stands,” Isaid dryly, not able to resist the temptation. Primus shot me afurious look, but I got a slight reward, seeing Masala smirk behindhis back.
“Maybe you and your engineering officeraren’t the experts you thought yourselves to be,” he shot back, hissecond chin quivering. “You said that it would take two days forthis wall to come down. There’s a huge hole, but the wall stillstands.”
“The day has just begun.” I had to struggleto keep my voice down and my temper under control.
“Well, I don’t see anything to be impressedabout,” he replied.
I glanced at Masala, who could only shrug athis patron’s mood. Primus had turned his attention back to thebombardment, sitting to watch Flavianus and his men as theycontinued to chip away at the wall. There was no longer a hole asmuch as a small cavern in the wall, and I felt the first seed ofdoubt spring up in my mind.
What if Primus was right? Beside theembarrassment, it would mean we would have to go up and over thewall on ladders, undoubtedly a bloody business. Fortunately, I didnot have to endure any of that, because one shot caromed off theedge of the hole, seemingly a near miss. Nonetheless, it obviouslydid something to the
