'Hold it upright,' Archelaus explained. 'We keep it that way until we close on the enemy. Stops us from doing any harm to our comrades, and helps to break up any arrows or sling shot they send our way. When we close and the order is given to advance spears, the front rank goes ahead of the formation and switches to an overhand grip.' He took the spear from Cato and flicked it up into the air and caught it, his arm bent and the shaft angled forward so the point was at eye level. 'Stab from here, like this.' He thrust the spear forward in a powerful jab and then recovered it, ready to strike again.Then he changed his grip, lowered the end and handed it back to Cato. 'You have a go.'
Cato tried the overhand grip and stabbed at the air. He would have preferred to use his sword but could see the advantage in using the spear's greater reach to strike at the enemy.The man Archelaus had sent to the barracks returned with the spare equipment and Cato returned Archelaus' shield and sword. As soon as he had tied the chin straps of the helmet and taken up spear and shield the commander of the syntagma bellowed the order to close ranks. Cato noticed that some of the men in the line beside him were carrying small haversacks.
'Incendiary materials,' Archelaus explained quietly, following the direction of the Roman's gaze. 'We're making for a ram the rebels are constructing in front of a temple on the other side of the agora. We're to set it on fire. The ram and anything else that might be of use to the enemy.'
The commander shouted another order as he stepped into the front line of the formation. Several of the Greek mercenaries raised the locking bar of the gate and, bracing their legs, they heaved for all they were worth. The tall, studded timber doors protested on their hinges and eased open with a grating groan. The commander raised his spear above his head and looked over his shoulder to call out to his comrades.
'Advance!'
The front rank of the syntagma rippled forward ahead of the following men as the dense column tramped out through the gate. Cato marched at the side of Archelaus a few ranks back from the front and as they emerged from the gate his heart was beating wildly. Earlier he had doubted the need to join the diversionary attack, but it was vital that Macro's column managed to cut their way through to the citadel, and Cato felt an instinctive duty to do all that he could to help his friend, and the men of the Second Illyrian. So he lowered his head, gritted his teeth and tightened his grip on shield and spear as the column spilled out of the citadel and made its way towards the makeshift barricades the rebels had erected across the streets leading from the agora in front of the citadel.
'At the run!' the commander yelled and the men around Cato swiftly quickened their pace, sandalled feet pounding across the paving stones as their scabbards slapped against their thighs and their ragged breath was drawn with sharp gasps. Above the din of the charging men around him Cato heard the sharp cries of alarm from the rebel lines. Braziers burned behind the barricades and dark figures rose up along the defences, clearly visible as they readied their weapons and faced the men of the royal bodyguard charging towards them across the open expanse of the agora. In the open-sided precinct of a temple Cato saw the looming shape of the shelter being constructed for the battering ram, and above the buildings on either side he saw the first faint glow of the coming dawn and knew that time was running out for Macro and the relief column to cut their way into the city under the cover of night.
The commander of the syntagma was the first to reach the barricade of overturned wagons and timber that had been constructed across the open side of the precinct. He slammed his shield against an upended market stall and stabbed his spear over the top, attempting to skewer the nearest rebel. The man jumped back, ducking down behind his shield as he slashed his sword at the spear shaft, trying to knock it from the commander's grip. On either side more Greek mercenaries arrived at the barricade, stabbing at the men on the far side, and already the first of them had scrambled over the defences and dropped into a crouch on the far side, shield raised and spear poised to thrust. With a savage roar he slashed the spear around and cleared a space for his comrades to clamber across the barricade to join the attack. Cato kept his position at the shoulder of Archelaus as some of the bodyguards ahead of them paused to pull the barricade apart, wrenching loose timbers aside and heaving an overturned cart back on to its heavy wheels before rolling it to one side. Cato looked over his shoulder, back towards the citadel. A small flame flared at the top of the signal tower and then there was a cloud of sparks whirling into the darkness before the fire caught and tongues of orange and red flickered in the darkness. The signal was given, then. Any moment now Macro and his column would begin their assault on the eastern gate and Cato quickly prayed to Fortuna that the diversionary attack had drawn the attention of the rebels away from the relief column.
The bodyguards had succeeded in opening a gap through the defences and worked hard to widen it as their comrades filtered through, feeding into the temple precinct on the other side. As Archelaus pressed forward Cato went with him, surging ahead with the other mercenaries. The small square in front of the temple was filled with a confused mass of dim figures locked in savage duels. The two sides were only clearly distinguishable by the crested helmets of the royal guardsmen and the conical helmets of the rebels.
'Cut 'em down!' shouted the commander.
Archelaus thrust his spear into the sky and added his excited encouragement. 'Come on, boys! Pike the bastards!'
He ran forward, lowering the tip of his spear, and thrust it into the back of a fleeing enemy. The man threw out his arms and his sword clattered to the ground a moment before his body. Cato moved into the melee, eyes flickering from side to side as he advanced, crouching slightly to spread his weight and make it harder for anyone to knock him down. There was a savage cry from his left and Cato just had time to throw his round shield up and out to block the sword blow which glanced off with a deafening clang. Cato swung round, stabbing out with his spear.The rebel parried it aside with a contemptuous laugh and struck at Cato again, and again, in a flurry of sword blows that drove him back step by step as he desperately blocked the attacks. There was no chance to use the spear and the weapon was little more than a burden in Cato's unpractised hand.
'Fuck this,' he growled, casting the spear aside and reaching for his sword. He drew the blade from its scabbard with a familiar scrape and hefted it at his side. 'Right then, now let's see how tough you are.'
He rode out another short flurry of blows, and then leaped forward, slamming his shield against the rebel's. The man stumbled back, off guard, and now Cato struck at him, thrusting at his face and then his exposed thigh, ripping through cloth and flesh. The rebel gasped with agony and staggered away, blood flowing from his wound. Cato rushed forward, throwing his weight behind his shield, and gritted his teeth just before the collision. The rebel crashed to the ground, and just managed to pull his shield up across his body as Cato stood over him, hacking savagely. As soon as he judged that the man had been stunned by the ferocity of his attack Cato paused, glanced down and saw the dark shape of the man's legs and feet below the rim of his shield. Cato stepped back a pace and hacked at the limbs. As the blade shattered a bone the rebel howled. Cato slashed at the writhing limbs a few more times until he was certain the man would pose no further threat, and then turned away, ignoring the screams of agony.
Around him he could make out enough detail to see that the fight was going their way. Only a handful of figures were still engaged in combat and the long dark shape of the nearly constructed ram housing loomed against the far side of the temple precinct. Cato took a deep breath and called out, 'Archelaus! Archelaus!'