The rebels crouched, feet apart and balanced, spears held ready as Macro and his two companions charged in, Musa and Vulso sprinting hard to catch up.
'Five men against seven spears and a mad woman with an axe,'
Atticus laughed.' Not good odds!'
There was a sharp rap as Macro parried the thrust of the first man he encountered. Still running, he lowered his shoulder and slammed into the rebel, knocking the other man on to his back. Macro ran on, skewering the next man ahead of him before he stopped, wrenched the spear shaft free, presenting the point to the three men before him in turn.' Come on!' he shouted. 'Who's up for it?'
Cato kept his eyes on the man who had singled him out and who now came on, spear lowered. He thrust at Cato's face but the point was easily deflected with a clatter. Cato lunged forward, forcing the man back, and kept with him, ham me ring at the shaft of the spear, knowing that it would numb the rebel's fingers. One more blow and the spear fell. The man turned and sprinted away. Cato let him go and turned to see Atticus locked in a duel with another man, more skilled with his spear than Cato's opponent had been. Musa was down, piked through the thigh and desperately warding off further blows from another rebel as blood gushed from the wound. Vulso charged into his man, knocking aside the spear, then smashing his fist into the rebel's face a moment before his right arm swung, driving his sword through the man's stomach and up into his chest, carrying him off his feet. The rebel's knees collapsed and he sagged back on to the ground, a great tear across his front through which bloodied intestines bulged.
'Musa!' the legionary called as he turned to help his comrade. It was too late: the old woman had crept up behind the down ed soldier and now smashed her axe down into the top of his skull. Musa's head snapped forward, eyes blinking. Then his body jerked furiously as he toppled over. The woman yanked her axe back with a shriek of triumph and turned towards Macro, snarling as she glanced at the body of her son stretched out by the cage. Cato started forward, but the man who had been fighting Musa blocked his path. Macro was in danger, so there was no time to stick to his training and take the man down by swordsmanship. Cato filled his lungs and let out a roar as he hurled himself forward. The spear point came up and the man braced his feet for the impact. At the last instant Cato went down low, rolled over and slashed at the rebel's leading leg as he came up.
The blade shattered the bone and the man screamed as he collapsed.
There was no time to finish him off as Cato ran on round the cage to catch up with the old woman. But she had a head start and threw herself towards Macro, the axe raised above her head.
'Macro!' Cato cried out. 'Behind you!'
Macro swung round, gritting his teeth, as he threw up the shaft of the spear to protect his head. The axe head splintered the spear shaft, but did not cut all the way through. Macro released the ruined weapon and clamped his fingers round her skinny wrist as the axe came down again. He managed to deflect the blow so that it hissed past his shoulder and into the dirt. She released her grip and clawed at his face with her spare hand as she swore and spat at him.
'That's enough!' Macro caught her by the hair and held her at arm's length. She spat and scratched at his hands as she tried to kick him. Macro took a sharp breath. 'I have had quite enough of you.' He punched her with his spare hand, and she collapsed on to the ground.
He snatched up the axe and stood over her.
'Macro!' Cato caught his arm.
Macro stared at the old woman with hatred before his gaze turned to Cato. 'She had it coming, believe me.'
Standing up, Cato saw that Vulso had finished off his opponent, and there was a last clatter and thud as Atticus cut down his man. The surviving rebels threw down their weapons and ran off into the night. The Roman soldiers stood breathing heavily for a moment before Vulso knelt down at Musa's side. His eyes gazed blankly at the starry heavens.
'He's dead,' said Vulso.
Cato turned to Macro. 'I'm going for Julia.'
'Careful, lad, there may be more of them in the tent. I'll come with you.'
There was a sudden pounding of hooves, and Cato and the others froze.
'That'll be Ajax.' Macro turned to Cato. 'We'd better get to cover.'
'Not without Julia.'
'Don't be a bloody fool! They'll be on us before we could get her out.' Macro grabbed his arm and thrust him away from the tent, back towards the shelter of the pens.' Go!'
The rumble of hooves was much louder, and then Cato could feel the tremor through the ground. He stared desperately at the tent for an instant, then turned and ran back with Macro and the others. A moment later Ajax and his bodyguards rode up through the camp and slewed to a halt in front of the tent. Ajax swung himself down from the back of his horse and barked an order.
'Stay in your saddles!'
He strode across to his tent and tore the flaps aside as he entered.
From his position nearly fifty paces away, Cato watched intently, fearing for Julia's life, and at the same time hoping that the bodies near the cage would not be noticed in the darkness. He tensed, as if ready to spring forward, but Macro grabbed his arm.
'Keep still, lad. Or we're all dead.'
Cato turned and glared at his friend, then nodded slowly as reason returned. The strain in his muscles eased as he sank towards the ground. There was silence from the tent for a moment, and then the flaps opened again and Ajax emerged holding a small chest in one hand, while the other grasped Julia by the wrist. Cato stopped breathing as he saw her, beautiful as the dawn even at this distance.
Ajax pulled hard, spinning Julia round so that she lost her balance and tumbled at the feet of the men standing in front of the tent.
'Get her on a horse. Kharim!'
'Yes, General.'
'You take charge of her. Guard her with your life, understand?'
Kharim reached down and with the help of the men on the ground pulled her up and across his thighs. Ajax climbed back on to his horse, clasping the chest to his side as he took the reins in his spare hand. 'Take her to the boats!'
As the bodyguards urged their mounts forward, along the track that led towards the tip of the peninsula, the gladiator glanced towards the cage, almost invisible in the dark, and pointed to two of his men.
'Kill the Roman, then get out of here.'
Then he wheeled his mount round and spurred it into a gallop along the track to catch up with the rest of his bodyguards. Cato stared after them, his heart heavy as lead as Julia was carried away from him. The two men detailed to kill Macro dismounted, tied their reins to the rail beside the tent and hurried across towards the cage.
'They're going to see the bodies any moment,' Macro whispered.
Cato nodded. 'We need those horses. They mustn't get away'
He rose into a crouch and glanced round at the others.' Ready?'
They nodded.
'Go!'
Cato launched himself forward, sprinting towards the two rebels as Macro, Atticus and Vulso scrambled after him. There was a sharp cry as one of the rebels saw the bodies sprawled on the ground. The sight momentarily distracted them, and it was only at the last instant that they turned towards the sounds of padding feet. Cato's sword swung out of the night, cutting into the shoulder of the nearest man and through to the bone. As he dropped like a side of beef, Macro took the second man with a thrust to the chest. He fell beside his comrade with a dull grunt and lay writhing at Macro's feet.
Sheathing his blade, Cato turned to Atticus.
'Stay out of sight until Fulvius comes up.'
'No, sir,' Atticus protested. 'We can help.'
'There are only two horses. There's nothing more you can do.
Macro, come on,' Cato ordered as he ran towards the tethered horses.
