Over to the left, near the sea, Cerialis was on the wall and could not remember how he had vaulted across. Two infantrymen and a trooper were beside him, the closest pirates dead, wounded or holding back, and the prefect bellowed because they had done it and were up.
‘Come on,’ he shouted to his men, and led them along the walkway to clear it of enemies. More and more Batavians clambered up behind them. There was a smooth ramp behind the wall, and the prefect kept an eye open in case some of the Harii gathered to attack him in the flank, but there was no sign of this. Men on the wall saw him coming and turned to face him, and he stabbed and hacked at them, smelling their rank breath as he killed them.
Vindex grunted with effort as he pulled himself up over the parapet. To his right the prefect and a dozen Batavians were making good progress along the wall, as the centurion led another twenty down across the ramp to cover their advance. There seemed fewer of the Harii and Usipi than he expected, and no sign of a reserve waiting to beat back any breaks in the line. Dark smoke rose from the cluster of roofs inside the stronghold. The Brigantian waited for Segovax, the Red Cat, and the others to join him. Probus needed help to get in and his pain was obvious.
‘You should stay here and rest,’ Longinus told him.
‘No,’ was the only answer the merchant would give. Behind them, Crispinus led the fifty legionaries kept in reserve and a force of sailors in through the entrance. Cerialis had passed the spot where the smoking ladder raised by the marines still stood, and the blue-grey clad men threw a couple of grapnel lines onto the parapet and were starting to climb. The rampart curved so that he could not see the gate, only the tower above it, and pirates were still there, hurling anything they could find down into the ditch. Vindex doubted that the legionaries would break through before the gates were opened from inside. The stronghold was falling, there was no doubt of that.
‘Which way?’ Longinus asked.
Vindex pointed at the smoke from the burning building, suspecting that his friend was behind such mischief. He circled his arm to point that they would work their way round to the left. No one spoke as they headed down the grassy ramp behind the wall.
The barn burned faster than Ferox expected, part of its thatched roof collapsing in a great gout of flame and smoke as he ran past it, feeling the wave of heat. There must have been something stored there to make the fire rage so quickly. He saw Brigita, waiting where the alley wound sharply round a house. Women were screaming, but he could not see them and guessed that the cries were prompted by the fire. He coughed because the smoke was blowing around him, little pieces of burning thatch wafting on the wind.
Ferox came around the corner, and was glad to see that someone had had enough sense to take them all back past the next bend. Around that corner the path opened out, and he found his little force waiting for him. He stood in the middle, Brigita beside him, with the redhead next to her and two of the lads to make up the rest of the front rank. The others waited behind them. The house to their left gave them some shelter from the smoke, but he could hear their pursuers spluttering before they reached the corner.
A hope that Cniva might lead so that they could kill him proved vain when half a dozen pirates spilled into the lane ahead of them, their shields on the wrong side because of the bend.
‘Now!’ Ferox yelled and the second rank threw javelins. One of the enemy was hit in the leg, another on the hand, making him let go of his sword.
‘Charge!’ Ferox screamed the command in Latin, but the others understood and followed as he ran at the pirates. Men turned, wanting to flee, but there were others behind them and in the tight alleyway there was no room to escape. He punched with his shield, making the man with the wounded hand stagger, and then rammed the gladius into his belly, feeling the long triangular point snap through the mail cuirass. Brigita cut down another before he could turn and use his shield for protection. A lad drove his leaf-headed spear right through the thigh of a pirate, so that the head burst out the other side, but the weapon stuck there, and the wounded man turned his scream of agony into one of anger as he hacked at the boy’s neck. The young warrior fell, blood jetting high, and the bare-breasted girl stepped over him and finished the pirate with a thrust through his mouth. A man came at Ferox, his shield up too high so that he could not see, and he swept underneath with his sword, cutting almost through the pirate’s leg.
Suddenly the Harii were gone, apart from those left dead or moaning in the mud of the alley. Ferox glimpsed the rest running, then a waft of black smoke made him blink.
‘Back!’ he yelled, ‘Back!’ because he knew that the relief would be short. He led them out past the buildings onto the open slope leading up to the lone hall where they held Genialis. They were only just in time, for a couple of men in black had appeared from another lane through the houses and could have got behind them.
‘In a line,’ Ferox shouted. ‘Here we make our stand.’ These youngsters were trained to fight as individuals, and with their small shields and inexperience he was not sure how long they would last in close slogging fights among the buildings. Here in the open they could fight as they had practised and prove themselves. Or they might just run away if the enemy came at them in a rush. Ferox was not sure, but reckoned that this was their best chance.
Three pirates came from the other lane, and they charged as soon as they saw the young warriors. One of the boys shouted something Ferox did not catch as he ran for the leader, and he wondered whether the lad was calling out his name or a taunt, but it did not matter when he ducked a wild hack and stabbed the pirate underneath his armour. Another boy, a little older than the first, slipped on the grass, and then gasped as the point of a gladius went through his armour and into his chest. He fell back, sobbing, the sword still in his body and pulled from the pirate’s grip. The redhead threw her last javelin, the point breaking through a pirate’s shield and sticking fast in his belt. She drew her sword and hacked the empty hand of the man who had lost his sword, then followed up, slicing into his leg just above the knee. He fell, and she strode past, going for the last man, who was struggling to drop his shield but could not because the spear would not move. The young woman’s face was contorted with hate as she spat at him and then hacked hard at his neck.
More pirates appeared, but these came with more caution. A whistle blew and Cniva rode out behind them, and they shook themselves into a formation two ranks deep.
‘Back!’ Ferox called, and the lad and the red-headed woman came back to form a line facing the enemy. Someone pushed Brigita aside to stand next to him and he was surprised to see that it was the mother. Her face showed no emotion.
Cniva blew his whistle, a shrill note, and then drew his own sword. He did not join his men as they began to walk up the slope, going slowly to keep in line. All of the second rank and most of the first had spears, ready to thrust overarm.
‘Cniva, you bastard!’ Ferox yelled, taking a pace forward. ‘Do you dare to fight me as a man?’
The leader of the Harii said nothing. His men took another pace forward and the distance now was no more than a dozen steps.
‘Kill them all!’ Ferox yelled. This was not the fight that he had wanted, but it was too late for that. ‘Come on!’ He turned the last word into a scream of rage and ran at the black shields of the enemy. There was a strange ululating screech in his ear and he realised that the mother was making it as she came with him, and then the other women took up the unearthly cry. The boys shouted, one of their voices beginning as a deep bellow and cracking into a squeak and that might have been funny if their deaths were not in front of them.