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The enemy on the ships were not the real danger, Ajax realised. It was the force rolling up his flank. If they could be thrown back, then the ships could be retaken later. He drew his sword and rode on, bellowing to the rebels along the beach,'Follow me! Follow me!'

He gathered more and more men as he hurriedly made his way towards the battle raging at the far end. The fight was not going well.

The Romans had already overrun the redoubt and were surging forward over the sand, oblong shields smashing down their more lightly armed opponents, and then the legionaries finished off the rebels with thrusts from their short swords. Ajax knew that the vast majority of his men were no match for legionaries, but if they could amass a sufficient force to stall the attack, there was a chance the weight of numbers might yet force them back over the palisade. But first they had to be rallied.

'Bodyguard! To me!' Ajax bellowed above the clash of weapons, the thud of blows on shields and the cries of the wounded. Those horsemen who had followed him from the other side of the bay steadied their snorting mounts and held their weapons ready. Ajax saw that he had thirty or forty of them with him now. Enough to make a difference. He turned back towards the enemy, fifty paces along the beach, cutting their way through the dissolving ranks of the rebels as they began to fall back.

'Charge!' Ajax stabbed his sword out and dug his heels in. The horse whinnied, reared up for a moment and then plunged forward, head down and hooves thudding into the coarse sand as it galloped madly towards the enemy.

The rebels ahead of him heard the approaching horsemen and did their best to escape from their path, but several were mown down and trampled underfoot. Ahead of him, Ajax could see that the Romans were not in formation, but had scattered as they began their pursuit. At the head of his band of bodyguards, he crashed in amongst them. The legionaries were as well armoured as any man he had faced in the arena, and Ajax held his sword poised to strike at any unprotected arms, faces and throats. Two Romans stood ahead of him and were knocked aside as his mount slammed into their shields.

Leaning to his right, the gladiator thrust down into the neck exposed as a legionary stumbled. It was a shallow thrust, no more than a few inches, but it would mortally wound his enemy, and Ajax rode on, keeping his head low. He saw a crested helmet to one side, and steered towards the centurion attempting to rally his unit. At the last moment the man turned, and in the glow of the ship blazing behind the gladiator his eyes widened. He was too late to react, and the tip of Ajax's blade smashed through his eye, shattering his skull as it plunged on into his brain. Ripping the blade free, Ajax turned his horse again.

Glancing round, Ajax saw that his charge had broken the Roman attack. Several legionaries were down, some had grouped back to back in small clusters, while others were retreating along the beach.

He had bought his men only a brief respite. Less than a hundred paces away, the second Roman formation was advancing towards the rebels, a solid wall of shields with standards raised behind the leading ranks. An order was barked and the legionaries clattered their swords against the sides of their shields, producing a deafening metallic din that unnerved Ajax's horse.

'Easy, easy there.' He patted its flank and realised that his bodyguard was the only rebel group standing firm on the beach. The rest were falling back. With a hiss of frustration, Ajax knew that the fight on the beach was lost. It might still be possible to deploy Kharim's men, many of whom had weapons and armour looted from the Roman soldiers they had killed. They might hold the legionaries back long enough for the rest of the army to be rallied, ready to hurl themselves on the hated Romans.

'Fall back!' Ajax ordered. 'To the camp!'

The horsemen turned and rode back along the beach, covering the retreat of those on foot retreating before them. As they passed the ships, the Romans on board watched them silently, too exhausted to cheer as their enemy gave ground. But once they caught sight of their comrades advancing along the beach, below their standards, a cheer rose up, passed on from ship to ship, and as he heard it, Ajax's lips twisted into a bitter snarl of frustration.

When he returned through the gateway of the palisade, he saw Kharim on his horse, watching intently. Catching sight of him, Kharim waved an arm and spurred his horse forward.

'General! The sentries report another Roman force moving down from their camp.' He thrust his arm up towards the slope. 'Over a thousand of them, with cavalry on the wings.'

Ajax stared at him, then looked back at the enemy marching along the beach. Around him the rebels were milling about, directionless and afraid. He took a deep breath and roared,'Form ranks! Form up and hold your ground! We can win this! We can beat them! We've done it before and we can do it again! Stand firm!'

His shouts were interrupted by fresh notes from the Roman horns along the beach, answered by more blasts from the direction of the hills, and the clatter of swords on shields began again, rising to deafening intensity. The rebels began to shuffle back, and those on the fringes of the crowd beyond the gate began to disperse, hurrying away from the converging Roman forces.

'Stand your ground!' Ajax yelled again, but it was too late. Fear passed through the rebels like a wind, and a tide of men flowed into the night, back through the camp, as they ran to save their lives. Ajax watched them go, and his heart set like lead in his breast. He suddenly felt a terrible burden of weariness settle on his shoulders and he turned to face the oncoming Romans.

'General!' Kharim shouted. 'What shall we do?'

'Do?' Ajax shook his head. 'All is lost. There is nothing we can do but die with a sword in our hands.'

'No!' Kharim edged his horse alongside Ajax and grabbed his arm. 'General, you still live, and while you live you can keep the fight against Rome alive. If you die now, then it has been for nothing.

While you live, the rebellion is not finished.'

Ajax turned and looked at him with a bleak expression. 'What can I hope to achieve now, my friend?'

Kharim thought quickly. 'We have hostages. We can still make a deal if we escape with them. There are some fishing boats in a small cove not far from your tent.'

For a moment Ajax wanted nothing more than a quick death. But then the sense of Kharim's words penetrated his mind. The Parthian was right: the rebellion would never be over while some men kept the spirit of it alive in the hearts of the empire's slaves. He must escape, and take the hostages with him.

'Very well.' He nodded to his comrade. 'We will go. Come!'

He turned his horse and beckoned to his bodyguards, and then began to ride back through the camp around the end of the bay, towards his tents on the peninsula beyond. On all sides the rebels gathered up their families and loot and fled from the approaching Romans. Ajax spared them a moment's pity. The trap was closed.

There would be no escape for them, only death or a return to slavery.

Three of the ships were on fire by the time Cato and his men had cleared the decks of the anchored vessels. Only two of the rebel fire parties had managed to set their ships ablaze before taking to their tenders and escaping towards the shore. The fire had spread to the third ship and all three now threatened the rest of the vessels anchored in the bay.