Constantine looked at his men and met fierce, predatoryfaces looking back at him. “They aren’t expecting us. Take them quickly, takethem quietly. Remember, our goal is the tower. Soon enough it will be usraining fire down on them!” he said confidently, though it hid an innernervousness. “Alright, men, divide up-move, move, move!”
Gathering the men, Centurion Caesar and Tribune Appiusquickly divvied up their forces. Julius saluted Constantine.
“See you on the other side, Centurion,” Constantine said.
“Don’t make us come save your behind now, sir,” thecenturion chided.
Julius led his squads to the left. Almost immediately,several rebel guards noticed their approach. With a yell, Julius charged, hismen on his heels. To the rebels, they looked like a wave of red, movingstraight at them. Several of them panicked, threw down their weapons, and ranfor their lives. Those few souls foolhardy enough to remain and fight werequickly dispatched. No Imperials were injured during the brief skirmish. Juliusquickly set his men to work disposing of the bodies by tossing them over thewall into the sea, and securing the heavy weapons.
“Gods curse them,” Julius muttered as the large gears on thecargo elevator stopped turning and the iron grills opened, disgorging severaldozen heavily armed and armored brown-coated rebels farther down the walkway.The fleeing men had located reinforcements. “Shields up!” he shouted.
Scrambling into position, his men formed a human roadblockfive men wide across the walkway. A few men threw together a barricade behindthe line, creating a makeshift wall upon the wall.
The foe approached at a jog, led by a huge, screaming manwielding a massive axe. Really? Julius thought sardonically. Theystill make barbarians in that mold?
The two sides clashed as if two trains had hit each other atfull speed. Shields shattered. Men tumbled backward. The giant was alreadythrough the first rank of men and into the second. Behind him, his men foughtwith the dazed remnants of the first line, fighting back to back now againstthe onslaught.
“Crossbows! Take them from behind!” Julius shouted at hisrearmost men.
Some men climbed atop the parapet, trying to gain a highervantage point from which to take shots at the enemy. Bolts whistled through theair, and two brown forms crumpled to the walkway. The enemy pressed forward,fighting to get out of the line of fire. Several hurled throwing axes in response,and one crossbowman fell from the battlements with a scream of pain. TheImperial line began to waver.
“Push them! Shields low and press them!” Julius shouted.“C’mon boys, push them forward! Remember your training! Stab and block, staband block!” He shoved his way through the ranks to the front. Wide-eyed menglanced back at him as they struggled to hold off the unrelenting assault.Julius planned his next move carefully. “Fourth rank forward, third rank,retire!” he shouted, and the men before him fell back, trying to make room fortheir relief.
At the same moment, the giant Nortlander launched a newattack. A mighty swing of his axe shattered a man’s shield. Pieces ofsteel-reinforced wood flew in all directions, mixed with gore. The unfortunatelegionnaire collapsed, cradling the stump of his arm. With a cry of victory,the barbarian twirled his axe back into position, readying for the killingstroke.
Julius lowered his head and charged into the fray, takingthe barbarian completely by surprise. Knocked off balance, the giant lostmomentum, and Julius seized the advantage, bending low and pushing into thelarge man, thrusting his sword forward in short, lightning fast jabs. Parrying,the Nortlander chieftain fell back several feet. The two men eyed each other,shuffling this way and that, watching for an opening.
Legionnaires had dragged their injured comrade to safetybehind the line. Fresh ranks moved up to cover their leader. The rebels formedtheir own line just a few yards away. Their leader turned and continued toexult his men in their harsh, Nordic language. Julius looked at his soldiers,gave an exaggerated nod, and abruptly charged.
The sudden assault shook their enemy, but they refused tobreak. These are not rebels who happen to have a Nortland leader, Juliusrealized. They must all be Nortland raiders. Shouts and yells washedover him as his men charged again. Shield to shield, sword to axe, theImperials forced their opponents back toward the elevator and landing platform.
Julius stabbed again and again. His arm burned with fatigueand his shield arm tingled under the multitude of blows raining down upon it.Small cuts and nicks burned up and down his arms and he tasted blood in hismouth. Sword dripping blood, he backed out and let a fresh man take his place.
Farther down the line, a man collapsed with an axe throughhis galea, the steel helmet shattered by the force of the blow. Anotherlegionnaire stepped up to take his place. The discipline of his men wasbeginning to tell. Their opponents were frustrated, unable to break through thenow solid Imperial line.
With an ear-shattering bellow, the Nortland chieftain wadedinto the fray again. This time, the young centurion was ready for him. Watchingthe massive axe swing by, even as he felt the wind of its passing, Juliusstabbed down at the Nortlander’s unguarded left leg. His sword bit deep,penetrating chain mail and flesh before Julius twisted his sword and withdrewit.
The burly man stumbled, looked at his leg then, strangelyunaffected by the hideous wound streaming blood, he turned toward Julius andflicked something on his axe. With a teeth-gritting screech, the edge of theaxe began to move, speeding up until it was a steady blur.
“Watch out, he’s got a chain-axe!” cried Calis, who had beenguarding Julius’s flank. While he stood frozen, amazed at the fortitude of theadversary before him, Calis was holding off two attackers moving in tandem,stretching the young legionnaire’s skills. He barely avoided one blow, andblocked another. Another legionnaire ran up to help the beleaguered duo, andJulius advanced to meet the seemingly invincible giant for a third time.
The Nortlander leered at him. “Come, puny Roman, let us seewhat you’ve got. My axe thirsts for blood. Your blood!” he shouted inheavily accented Low Latin. Axe whirling, he advanced on the smaller man.
Julius gritted his teeth and, shield held across his body,circled his opponent, grasping for any way of avoiding a punishing hit from theweighted chain-axe. It would go through my shield like a saw at a sawmill.If I can waste time, that wound of his will drain him of blood.
While their men grappled on the battlements, the two leaderscontinued to jostle for position.
A wounded man’s hand reached out and grasped Julius’s ankle.He tugged and pulled, but the man wouldn’t let go. With a wordless growl,Julius swung his sword, amputating the man’s hand. In that critical second ofdistraction, the chieftain barreled into him, sending him flying against thestone and steel bulwark. Julius’s vision clouded for a second. When it cleared,he saw his men throwing themselves at the oversized Nortlander, straining tokeep themselves between their leader and his attacker. The axe killed, wounded,or forced them away one by one. Julius fumbled with his shield, using it toprop himself up against the parapet. His legs were shaking and his stomachwanted to empty itself.
“I hope you are ready, little Roman, to meet those gods youlove so much.” The colossus was right before him, gloating. With lightningspeed, he swung his axe. Julius ducked just in time, feeling the weapon’spassage like a heavy wind grabbing at his cloak. The base of the weaponconnected with Julius’s back, knocking the wind out of him again, while thestrange keening sound became more and more muffled. His fingers grasped at histhroat. His cloak was choking him! He moved his hands to work desperately atthe clasp.