Cato rested briefly and continued, and the beam slowly eased towards the iron hoops through which it passed on either door. At last it came free of the left-hand do or and slid into the receiver channel. He eased it a little further, past the fine shaft of daylight that separated the doors, and then let go of the beam, which settled back into its brackets.
Grabbing the empty hoop, Cato leaned back, boots seeking purchase on the worn paving stones. With a squeaky groan that sounded deafening to his ears, the door began to swing inwards. It had opened about a pace when a leather curtain that formed the door in a nearby latrine shed was flung to one side and a man emerged, pulling down his tunic. A scabbard was tucked under one arm, the belt straps dangling down to his sandals. He glanced towards the gate and froze when he saw Cato.
'What in Hades…?'
Cato threw his weight back with renewed effort.
'Stop! Stop that!' the man yelled, releasing the hem of his tunic and drawing his sword and discarding his scabbard in one fluid motion. 'Get away from the fucking door, you!'
Cato ducked through the gap and cupped a hand to his mouth as he bellowed down the road leading into the city. 'Tenth Macedonian! On me!'
There was a scraping sound, and he turned to see that the man was heaving against the edge of the door.
'No you don't!' Cato snarled, fumbling through the slit in his tunic and ripping out the dagger that was tied there. He clenched his fist round the handle and threw his weight against the door, stopping it dead. The impact drove the man back a step, and Cato seized the advantage to thrust again at the door, pressing it open another couple of feet before he sprang through the gap. The guard backed off a short distance, crouched low and readied his sword. He glanced at Cato's dagger and sneered.
'Run, boy! While you still have a chance.'
Cato felt a wave of rage flush through his body. Then he heard a shout from down the slope as Centurion Plotius ordered his men forward. Unless Cato stood his ground, the do or would be closed before they reached the gate. He swallowed nervously and shook his head.
'No,' Cato replied. 'You run.'
'What?' The guard looked surprised for a moment, then his teeth clenched as he stepped forward to attack. As soon as he was in range, he lunged straight at Cato's stomach. Cato leaped nimbly to the side, hissing a curse at the pain in his leg as the blade cut through the air close by. As the guard snatched back his sword, Cato slashed at his arm. It was a desperate attack, and the dagger struck the sword blade with a sharp scraping ring. At once the guard drew his weapon back and now slashed at Cato in a swinging arc. Cato had no choice but to go down on one knee and duck as the glittering edge swished overhead. The guard had put his full strength into the blow, and the moment um of the blade carried his arm round and momentarily unbalanced him. Cato threw himself forward, striking at the man's booted foot, and felt the dagger pierce the leather straps, then flesh and bone. There was a shriek of agony as he yanked the handle free and rolled to one side, and over again before scrambling back on to his feet.
Blood was gushing from the guard's foot as he rolled his eyes and roared with rage and pain. Then his eyes flickered back towards Cato, wide and terrifying. With another meaningless shout he staggered forward, swinging his sword wildly. Cato knew that any blow that connected would cripple him if it did not kill him outright. He held the dagger out in front of him, ready to attempt to parry the sword. The first blow missed its target, but the second, a vicious backhanded slash, connected with the dagger with such force that it was wrenched from Cato's hand and flew through the air, spinning end over end, until it clattered across the flagstones some distance away.
'Right, you skinny bastard,' the man growled, backing Cato against the closed door.' Time to die.'
There was a series of shouts from the direction of the gate, and several of Glabius's men turned their heads at the sounds. After a moment Glabius paused and looked to his left. Until Macro prodded him in the buttock.
'Keep talking.'
Glabius let out a small yelp and lurched half a pace forward before he recovered his wits.
'Better keep their attention,' Sempronius urged quietly.' Get on with it.'
Glabius nodded, drew another breath and did his best to ignore another shout from the gate as he continued.' My friends, let me just say that, having conferred with the senator, I have agreed to relinquish the post of governor, for the sake of unity and the safety of our people. So, I salute Senator Gaius Sempronius, acting governor of the province of Crete!' He thrust his fist into the air. There was no response, just shocked expressions from his friends and followers, some of whom were edging forward so as to see what was causing a disturbance at the main gate. The silence was broken when one of the bodyguards took a step forwards and stabbed his finger at Glabius.
'Who's going to pay us then, eh?'
'He's right!' cried another. 'We'll be out of a bloody job.'
There was a chorus of angry shouts before a voice piped up. We don't need that fat bastard! Let's choose ourselves another governor, boys! Time for a bit of democracy, like.'
There was a roar of laughter and Glabius raised both hands to appeal to them, calling for silence. 'You have to do as I say! I pay you!'
'Not any longer!' a man called out, and then bent down to scoop up a pebble and hurled it at the tax collector, striking him on the shoulder.
'Ow!' Glabius flinched.
Macro spoke quietly to the senator. We ' re losing it, sir. We stay here much longer and that lot will have our bollocks for breakfast.'
Cato's eyes were focused on the tip of the blade as it advanced towards him, gleaming and deadly. The guard would make no mistake this time. In the distance he could hear the drumming of boots on the street as Plotius and his men raced towards the open gate. The guard heard it too, and hesitated, glancing back over his shoulder.
There was no time for thought. Cato acted instinctively. He leaped forward, going low, under the blade, reaching out to grab the guard around the legs and use his weight to throw the man off balance. The impact drove the guard back a pace, but he was solidly built and managed to keep his balance as he glared down at Cato. His blade was still pointed up, so he smacked the pommel down on to Cato's head.
Cato felt his teeth clash heavily as the blow landed with blinding impact. He felt his grip loosen on the guard's legs, even as he willed his fingers to clench into the man's flesh. But for a moment his body was numbed, and he collapsed on to the ground, landing heavily on his side. As his vision began to clear, he squinted up into the light, and saw the silhouette of the guard as he leaned over Cato, sword raised as he shouted,'You are fucked!'
There was a confusion of sounds: boots, the groan of the gate hinges and a sudden grunt and groan of pain. Cato blinked. The guard had gone and he was staring up into a clear sky, and then another blurry shape intervened.
'Centurion Cato! Sir, are you all right?'
'What?' Cato clenched his eyes shut for a moment, willing the dizzy nausea to abate. He felt hands haul him to his feet and hold him there.
'Sir?'
Cato opened his eyes and the anxious expression of Centurion Plotius swam into focus. 'I'm fine. Bit dazed, but I'm fine.'