As soon as the badgers had breached the tortoise, the attacking wedge broke into a sprinting charge. While the tortoise began to disintegrate, with the badgers decimating it from within, the attackers smashed against its outer wall, and, as planned, the combined attacks began to obliterate the integrity of the formation, with the tortoise rapidly falling apart and the attackers overhwleming the defenders in seconds.
‘Stop demonstration!’ Maharbaal yelled abruptly. ‘Return to formation!’
Immediately the mock battle ceased, and without a word the troops shifted with impressive precision back into their former positions.
One of Batiatus’s guests, a senior centurion in the Roman Army, stood up and began applauding enthusiastically. The other guests soon followed suit, all dazzled by the efficiency, discipline and creativity of the troops’ tactics and prowess.
‘See the power and inventiveness of this new force!’ Batiatus boasted as the applause died down. ‘Is it not a marvel?! As a former military man myself, I can assure you all that these are some of the finest, most well-trained troops I have ever laid eyes on. And the announcement that I am about to make is part of the reason that we are having this celebratory banquet tonight: senators, centurions and other high-born citizens of this glorious Republic, I am deeply honoured to inform you that my friend Octavian has requested that my gladiators be added to the ranks of his new force of soldiers. Let me say that most gladly do I provide my men for this noble fellow’s cause, most gladly indeed! It is with overflowing pride and joy that I now publicly announce my partnership with Octavian!’
Everyone got to their feet, cheering and applauding.
‘I thank you for the gift of your gladiators,’ Octavian said solemnly as he stood up to speak. ‘They are the finest fighters in all the known world, there is no doubt in my mind of that. I foresee a long and profitable relationship between you and I, Batiatus. This is what I predict, and this is what I believe shall come to pass!’
‘Hear hear!’ the senior centurion shouted, and another wave of cheers crashed through the hall.
Batiatus stood up, his ruddy face glowing with both inebriation and the ear-to-ear grin that was smeared across his face.
‘Thank you for your kind enthusiasm everyone, thank you! Now, we will have another course of food, and we will watch some more demonstrations from this new elite unit. We will feast on ostrich spiced with pungent herbs from the Far East, and pickled sea urchins from the ocean depths! And there will be more wine, of course, as much as you care to drink! Come, let us continue our celebration!’
***
Horatius peered down the corridor that ran along the top of the parapet and sighed; time seemed to have been passing especially slowly this evening. Perhaps it was the distant hum of the dining hall carried on the wind – all those people in there having fun, while he was stuck out here on sentry duty. Feeling the familiar haze of boredom clouding his mind, he started to mutter to himself while he idly ran his thumb up and down his bowstring.
‘Come on Vibius, where are you?’ he grumbled. ‘We’re supposed to have bloody well changed our watch five minutes ago. That stupid lout is probably having a shit again. By Jupiter, that idiot’s bowels are always giving him issues … and guess who has to suffer because of it? Bah! I’m bloody well tired of it. If the sergeant finds out we’re late in switching up, there’ll be hell to pay! Again! I’m so sick of getting an earful from that blustery prick on account of Vibius’s fucked-up arse! Gah!’
He shot a quick glance up and then down the corridor, and then took out the wineskin he kept discreetly hidden inside his boiled-leather breastplate. He opened it and swigged deeply on his cheap wine.
‘Mm … at least I’ve got this to keep me company.’
He wandered over to the edge of the parapet, leaned his bow against the wall and lifted up his tunic so that he could urinate off the edge, and humming the tune of his favourite drinking song as he waited for the urine to start flowing. It was at that moment that he heard a curious noise; a zipping sound, accompanied simultaneously by a loud thrum. A jarring impact shuddered abruptly through the side of his neck, as if someone had just delivered a vicious slap to him from behind.
He spun around, expecting to see Vibius there laughing – but there was nobody. Something felt very wrong about this. Icy alarm washed over him when he realised that he couldn’t breathe.
With a rising gush of panic, he reached up to his throat, raising a trembling finger to the skin. There, below his chin was the familiar Adam’s apple, rough with two-day stubble – yet also slick with warm, steadily flowing wetness. And there was also something else there – something that definitely wasn’t supposed to be there.
By the gods, how could this be possible?! What?! No, no no!
An arrow shaft, transfixing his throat.
As a scream started to rise like hot gas from his blood-filling lungs, he heard another whizzing sound, this time thrumming straight towards his face.
It was the last thing he ever heard.
Sphaerus knelt down next to the still-warm corpse of Horatius and pulled the arrows from the dead guard’s eye socket and throat. After setting his weapons down on the corpse, he performed a number of owl hoots in the agreed-upon pattern.
Out of the stark shadows thrown by the silver moon crept the gladiators, swarming like suddenly materialising demons all over the corridor,
