“Make sure he doesn’t have to pay for thisone,” I reminded him, and I could see the grateful look on theman’s face.
Diocles reappeared, except without a helmet.Instead, he brought Gaius, who was carrying his helmet. However, Icould see by the look on his face that he had no intention ofletting me use it without a fight. I glared at my little Greek, whorefused to meet my eyes and stood aside.
“Uncle,” Gaius blurted out, eitherforgetting or ignoring that we had long since agreed that he wouldonly refer to me by my rank in earshot of others. “Have you lostyour mind?”
“Centurion,” I said stiffly, not wanting tohave an argument with my nephew at that moment, yet not willing tolet him talk to me in this manner. “You forget yourself. And no, Iam not out of my mind.”
I had expected Gaius at least to modify histone, but he was not cowed in the slightest.
“You’re too old for this,” he insisted. “Andyou know it. So you must be out of your mind.”
Despite seriously doubting he could havetalked me out of what I was about to do, that was the worst thinghe could have said. Furious, I dropped the shield, snatching thehelmet from his hands while his jaw dropped in astonishment. I tookmy own helmet off with one hand, ignoring the shaking of my rightarm since I had refused to let go of the ladders once I picked themup, then put on Gaius’ helmet. Naturally, it was too small for mylarge head with my liner on, immediately giving me second thoughts,knowing that my head would be bleeding before long from contactwith the bare metal. Unfortunately, my pride was in full effect bythis point, so I pulled the liner off, then jammed his helmet on myhead. I fumbled with the chinstrap for a moment, unable to tie itwith one hand, and neither Gaius nor Diocles were willing to help.Gaius looked at me; I could see the unhappiness and desperation onhis face, a mirror expression on that of Diocles. My nephew took astep forward, holding out a hand in supplication.
“Uncle, please don’t do this. You don’t haveanything left to prove.”
The desperation in his voice gave me pause,but I could feel the eyes of the men of the First Cohort on me, sothat even if I had wanted to, I could not back out now.
“I’ve survived worse than this,” I saidloudly, more for the men than for Gaius. “And the Thracian hasn’tbeen born yet that can kill Titus Pullus.”
Thinking that I had said all that needed tobe said and seeing that we were ready to begin the assault, Iturned back to face the fortress, taking a deep breath as I staredat the rubble pile. I was so concentrated on what we were about todo that I did not hear yet another arrival behind me, meaning I wascompletely startled when I heard another familiar, though unwelcomevoice.
“Prefect, what in Hades are you doing?”
I braced myself before I turned to faceMarcus Primus, who was sitting on his horse with a look of uttershock on his face.
“My job, Praetor.”
“You’re mad! You can’t lead this assault!It’s suicide!”
It had been fairly quiet in the immediatearea, since men are not much for talking before a moment like this,but the silence was suddenly all-consuming and oppressive, andPrimus at least seemed to realize that he had said something thatthe men didn’t like. The hostility was palpable, the men staring atPrimus with cold eyes, making him visibly flinch, a fearful lookcreasing his fat face.
“I didn’t mean for you men.” He waved afluttering hand in their direction. “I meant only that the Prefectis too…experienced and…valuable to this army and to Rome to riskhim in such a venture.”
“We know exactly what you meant, Praetor,”Macrinus spoke, his voice as cold as a Parthian winter wind.
“Prefect, I forbid you from leading thisassault.” Primus tried to sound authoritative, yet even he had tohave heard the whining quality to his voice, while I simply ignoredhim, instead turning to the assembled Legionaries.
“Will you follow me?” I shouted thequestion.
The answering roar I got in return was all Ineeded to know. Once more, perhaps for the last time, I was TitusPullus and I was doing what I had been born to do.
Dividing the men of the First between thefour of us who would be leading the assault, I turned toFlavianus.
“You know what to do.”
He gave a brief nod in return, then wenttrotting off to where the artillery was waiting. By this point, thescorpion gunners had been firing at random intervals or whenever atarget presented itself in an attempt to conserve ammunition. Nowthe ballistae would join in the bombardment. This was anextremely risky move on my part, since the ballista is notnearly as accurate as the scorpion, and if I had them aiming at theramparts, I would not have risked it. But I had ordered Flavianusto set the artillery to maximum elevation, in an attempt to clearthe wall to land within the open area just inside, where I was suremen were gathering to repel our assault. Hefting the shield, tryingto ignore how tired my right arm was already, I waited for thefirst volley of the ballistae, just to make sure that theyhad the range. One missile did not clear the wall, smashing into acrenellation, sending shards of rock spinning violently in alldirections. This was the extreme danger of firing theballistae during the assault, especially once we were underthe walls. I started walking forward, holding my shield up above myhead, yet tilted a bit so I could see underneath it. The otherthree men did the same, and I immediately felt the sweat runningcold down my back as the walls loomed larger. Scorpion bolts beganshooting over our heads in earnest, the Thracians now realizingthat the assault was finally underway, meaning they had to risk thebolts to fire their own missiles down on us. I moved as quickly
