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Had Helena and I not been there they would have succeeded in some instances. Communication was essential, and when I heard a shout that there was a breach in the 2nd cohort’s formation on the legion’s left flank, I made my way in that direction, Helena beside me. We passed the 6th and 4th cohort along the way, each holding their own well enough, but when I saw the 2nd, I quickly assessed that the breach was more like a flood Noah himself would have trouble handling.

Right down the center, between the two cohort haves were waves of Praetorians bubbling inwards towards the third line. Nisus was just about to send in a reserve force when he noticed us, and held back his orders, waiting to see what we would do first.

I started the party off with a grenade that I tossed deep into enemy lines, far enough to keep our legionnaires unaffected. I set my weapon to fully automatic and started walking towards the Praetorians like a British red coat during the American Revolution. Helena was right beside me as we fired into their ranks, inching closer and closer with every slow step. We started with the edges, concentrating our fire on the Praetorians closest to our allies, before sweeping towards the center, overlapping our fire, and working again towards the outer edge. When the grenade went off, we had effectively killed every man trying to push through the bulge, and the respite gained from the explosion was enough for the 2nd cohort to fuse their lines together again.

I saw a century from the 3rd cohort in reserve take up position behind the 2nd’s last line, to help alleviate the tension there. I knew the key to a legion’s success was their mobility and versatility, but seeing it in action was extraordinarily impressive. That century could have done what Helena and I had, but it would have taken far longer, and cost both cohorts more men. Now, they were in the perfect position to strengthen the position.

Our task fulfilled, I looked around for another breach, but couldn’t find a one, so I made my way back to Nisus’ position. We had to be careful because our lines were very slowly being pushed back. We didn’t want to risk a random sword thrust in our direction. Casualties were streaming in at this point, but we were holding strong on the left, as was the 10th on the right. Our formation was actually enveloping the enemy bit by bit, just as Hannibal’s had at the battle of Cannae. While he’d feigned his center’s weakness to draw the Roman attackers inside his lines to surround them, our center was in fact weaker, and we wouldn’t be able to turn the tables as easily as he had.

Nisus had a smile on his face as we jogged back to the 1st cohort’s standard.

“It’s good to see you can actually deliver in a fight,” he said. “Honestly, I had my doubts, but no more.”

“Join the club,” I muttered in English, glancing back at Galba, who still sat on his horse doing his best to maintain tactical command of the entire legion, leaving the small stuff to his centurions.

Helena and I waited patiently. A few minutes passed. I was getting restless.

Finally, I heard my radio crackle to life in my ear.

“Hunter, this is Bordeaux.”

I pressed the PTT button. “Go ahead, Jeanne. How goes the fight on your end?”

“It’s going,” he replied, strain evident in his voice even over the radio, “but I think you should know that I can see some serious enemy troop movement occurring on your right flank. I’d inform that asshole centurion that he might want to reinforce the right.”

I smiled. “Thanks for the update. I’ll let him know. Hunter, out.”

Since the day we first arrived in camp, Nisus had treated us the same as his general had, with distant mistrust and apprehension. Bordeaux probably had more reason to be annoyed with him than the rest of us. During a training exercise, Nisus, more than a foot shorter than the hulking Frenchman, had knocked Bordeaux unconscious when he whacked him on the temple with the blunt side of his gladius. The big guy had been out for an hour. Bordeaux had not been happy, and hadn’t had a nice thing to say about the centurion since.

“Centurion,” I said, directing my attention to Nisus. “I would send some troops to the right. Immediately. The enemy is maneuvering in that direction.”

Nisus’ look betrayed nothing as he stared at me. “And how could you possibly know that? If you will, please leave command of this army to me.”

I was about to tell the smaller man off and inform him just how lucky he was to have our help, when I saw a runner approaching quickly from the right.

“Sir,” the man panted. “The 5th has been breached and the 10th is floundering. The enemy is pushing hard on the right.”

Nisus looked at me and I gave him a condescending smile, while Helena, who had overheard our interchange, shook her head and tsked him. To the man’s credit, he looked me in the eye and grunted a brief acknowledgment before turning inwards, thinking over the strategic situation.

“Gods,” Nisus mumbled. “Issue the command for the entire 9th cohort to support both positions. Also, detach a century from the 3rd to find out what in the name of Mercury is happening with the auxilia. Clear it with the Legate first.”

“I obey, Centurion,” the man replied, saluting.

So much for Hannibal, then. No wonder things had seemed so calm. The Praetorians had been feigning along the entirety of our line while they were simultaneously busy maneuvering the rest of their troops to the right.

I’d barely started inching my way in that direction when I felt Nisus’ strong grip on my arm. “No, my friend. That is not your fight. My men can handle it. We’ll need you soon enough elsewhere.”

I nodded, bowing to his authority.

So far, the third and fourth line had remained unengaged, but the front was steadily approaching our position. They’d be on top of us very soon. Things were about to get very messy. Another messenger arrived as more and more bodies fell to the ground in front of me and the 9th moved into position on the right.

“Centurion,” he panted, “the left has been hit hard and the men are rapidly falling back.”

I looked to the left past the 1st cohort, and saw staggering lines and wavering troops. Things were definitely not going as well as we’d hoped, and I couldn’t see past them to find out what was happening with Caligula’s men. I couldn’t help but think this whole thing might have been a big mistake, and that our plans had failed the day Santino and I failed to set the explosives along the walls of Rome.

I looked to Nisus, waiting impatiently for my orders.

He was keeping his calm, but he knew he had to pull this thing together before it fell apart completely. “Go,” he said to me. “Find the breach on the left. I will take the 1st and 7th to assist.

I nodded, before glancing over at Helena. “Ready for this?”

She tilted her head to the side and met my eyes. “I am, but remember…”

“No dying… I know.”

“Right. Let’s go.”

We peeled away from the 1st cohort, and ran behind their lines as fast we could. We passed between the 7th cohort, receiving cheers as we did so before we came face to face with the grim reality that was the 8th cohort’s fate. Its line wasn’t only breached but being annihilated, chopped down by a swarm of Praetorians, and I quickly knew why.

Behind them, high on his black horse rode Claudius, sword and orb in hand, shouting orders, his anger and charisma driving his men forward.

Even so, he wasn’t the problem right now, and I focused my attention on the troops.

Just as with the 2nd cohort only ten minutes earlier, the Praetorians had crashed into the gap between the cohort segments. Unlike before, they exploited it far more effectively and had pushed aside the halved cohorts beyond the point where they could help each other. There might have been forty Praetorians standing within the gap, effectively surrounding the 2nd.

Placing myself thirty yards from them, I dropped to a knee and started pouring fire into the gap. I counted two dozen men go down, before I had to reload. A new magazine in place, I pulled out my second grenade and readied to throw it. Helena was still firing her P90’s larger mag, while simultaneously readying a grenade of her own.