“Pluto’s cock, that’s close,” I heardsomeone mutter behind me, but I did not have the time to agree,even though the voice sounded familiar.
I was just glad that Flavianus had decidedto keep up the barrage despite the danger, even knowing that if oneof them fell short to splatter me all over the rubble I would feeldifferently. With my right hand now free, it was time to startinflicting some damage on the Thracians, but I had no javelins.Thracians were shaking their weapons at us, then I was joined nearthe top by another man, and I turned to see that it was Macrinus.He grinned at me, indicating the waiting warriors with hishead.
“Are you ready to get stuck in,Prefect?”
I nodded grimly, the heat still surgingthrough my body and I drew my sword, reveling in the feel of it inmy hands. I had heard men whisper around the fires when theythought I was not about that they were certain I had been born witha sword in my hand, which was not far from the truth. The crampingthat had worried me was gone as I wrapped my fingers around mythumb in the unusual but extremely effective grip that AulusVinicius, our Optio and first weapons instructor in the Legions,had taught us to use. I had long since become accustomed to usingthe grip, in fact having become second nature, also used to theslightly reduced lateral movement using the grip when turning thewrist outward. Between the fire from the scorpions and therelatively sheltered position close to the wall, we no longer hadto worry about the arrows from above, but I was sure that when wedropped down, there would be archers waiting on the rampartsfarther back, where they would have the angle to fire on us fromthere.
“Let’s soften them up first, give them ataste of their own medicine,” I said to Macrinus, who nodded.
When he shouted the order over his shoulder,men immediately behind us started gathering javelins from theircomrades behind them, passing them up until we had several dozengathered. It had been quite some time since I had thrown a javelinin anything but practice, and even in practice it had been awhile,so it felt a little awkward when I hefted one. There was now asolid, albeit thin line of Legionaries standing just near the topof the pile, positioned in such a manner that only a small part oftheir upper body was showing to the Serdi and, in a moment, theyall held javelins. Flavianus had ceased fire, and it appeared theThracians were beginning to sense that they were no longer indanger from our artillery. Some of the braver ones were now edgingcloser, hefting their own spears like they were going to throwthem, but they were at a disadvantage. We were on slightly higherground because of the rubble, increasing our range while decreasingtheirs. Even so, the leading edge of the warriors waiting for uswas at the very limit of our range, even from above, and I wasreluctant to waste javelins. That was when things seemed to come toa momentary stop, both sides simply standing there, knowing thatthe next overt move on either group’s part would start theslaughter. This was turning out to be unlike any assault I had everbeen part of, which I suppose was fitting.
Finally, I muttered, “Fuck this.”
Pulling my arm back, feeling the shaft ofthe javelin along my arm, I shouted to the Legionaries withjavelins to prepare to launch them, hearing the rustle of armssweeping back. A heartbeat later, I swept my arm forward, releasingmy missile, the air suddenly filling with javelins, making theirown unique sound slicing through the air. The volley did not causemany casualties, as I knew they wouldn’t, yet they did the nextbest thing, thudding into the Thracians’ shields, and I saw severalmen of the front rank forced to drop them.
“Again,” I roared, another round flyingthrough the air.
This seemed to awaken the enemy, because onsome unheard signal, a horrific howl raised from the mob, and menbegan running forward. I understood instantly they were trying toget underneath our javelins, and to get to the edge of the pile towait for us.
“We’re not getting paid to stand here,” Iremember yelling, taking a giant step forward and down to get tothe enemy, choosing what looked like a stable piece of rock as thetarget for my first step. It was not, and I felt the rock give wayunderneath my foot when my full weight hit it, giving way beneathme to tumble farther down the slope. I felt myself losing mybalance, then a hand grabbed my harness.
“Careful, Prefect, that would be a bad wayto meet the enemy,” shouted Macrinus as I recovered to take anotherstep downward.
Half stumbling, half running, on the nakededge of losing complete control to careen headlong into theonrushing Thracians, I added my voice to the roaring of men racingto kill each other.
We had the momentum of the rubble slopespilling down into the fortress, although I saw more than one manlose
