"Get them inside," I screamed at them. "Then bar the door and get some help out here!"
They hustled their charges inside to safety and I slammed the door shut behind them, realizing belatedly that I could have gone with them. The wagon sounded as though it were almost on top of me and I swung back to face it. There were men in the back and two men on the box seat in front, one clutching the reins and the other holding a huge axe as he fought to keep his balance in the swaying vehicle. The lead horses were less than twelve paces from me, and it was obvious the driver intended to crush me against the wall. I snatched up the centurion's sword in my left hand and flipped my skystone knife, holding it by the point and throwing it with all my strength at the driver's throat. I missed. The hilt struck him high on the forehead, and I saw his head snap back as I launched myself into a diving roll away from the wall, almost under the hooves of the panicked horses, narrowly avoiding the massive, crunching wheel of the wagon. I heard a splintering crash as the side of the cart hit the wall, and then I was on my feet and running in my hobbling, lunging fashion towards the gateway and the bowman I had seen sent flying earlier. I had lost my sword when I hit the ground, dodging the cart, and now I was unarmed and an easy target for the surviving bowman.
The bowman was gone; I could see no sign of him. Only his companion lay where he had fallen, and seven arrows lay scattered on the ground around him. I snatched them up and lurched to where the bow lay, about ten paces distant. No one had bothered with me for some time now. I picked up the bow and nocked an arrow, and then I looked around me. Soldiers were beginning to appear from everywhere, leaping from open windows and running at the double in files around the sides of the buildings at the far end of the yard, spreading out as they came. I saw the centurion's body huddled motionless against the wall below the anteroom window, and even from where I was, I could see the blood that covered him. I guessed he had been run over by the cart, and even as I thought it, I saw the cart, now in the middle of the yard, begin to move again. The four would-be assassins were now on board, surrounded by a half dozen others who must have been in the body of the cart all the time. The man at the reins now, a different man from the one at whom I had thrown my knife, was whipping furiously at the horses, dragging them around in a wide circle as they picked up speed, using the wagon itself as a weapon against the foot-soldiers who were now converging from all sides. Javelins arched through the air and fell useless to the ground, and then the arc of the wagon was complete and it came thundering towards me again, headed directly for the still-open gate.
"Close the gates," I yelled, but nobody heard me. A thin-spread line of legionaries had formed across the open gate, but I could see that they were useless and would be annihilated by the oncoming wagon. And then another thought occurred to me, chilling me, and I knew what I had to do.
I drew the bowstring to my ear — it was much lighter than my own great bow — and sighted on the lead horse closest to me, aiming for the soft spot between its neck and shoulders. The shot went straight and true and the animal went directly to its knees in mid-stride, its dead weight pulling its running mate off balance and interfering with the horse directly behind it, so that the wagon slewed violently and several of its occupants went flying.
My second arrow struck the other lead horse moments later and it screamed and tried to rear up. The wagon crashed over onto its side in a ruin and was immediately surrounded by soldiers, who made short work of the surviving passengers. I was too far away to do anything about the slaughter.
I waited until the initial activity was all over and then made my way towards the remains of the wreck. As I drew near, I saw one soldier bend and pick up a bright-bladed knife.
"That's mine," I called. "Thank you."
He looked at me, frowning. "What d'you mean, it's yours?" His voice was truculent.
"Look at the cross hilt," I said. I was close to him now. "It's inscribed with a V. Stands for Varrus. That's me."
The soldier looked, but he was still suspicious. "Then what's it doing here? And who are you?"
"I'm the one who raised the alarm, and it's there because I threw it at the driver. It hit him hilt first and fell back into the wagon. Is the centurion dead?"
"What centurion?"
I sighed and tried again. "Have you ever heard of the Emperor's Regent, Stilicho?"
" 'Course I have. Why? Who wants to know?"
I sighed again. My legs felt weak and there was a strange drumming in my ears. I squeezed my eyes shut then opened them wide, hanging on to my patience with great difficulty.
"I want to know. My name, my full name, is Gaius Publius Varrus and I have business with Stilicho's deputy, Picus Britannicus. Now take me to him, and bring my knife with you."
He looked at me for one more long moment and then apparently decided that he might be well advised to take me at my word. He handed me my skystone knife and beckoned me to accompany him. I tucked the knife into its sheath and followed.
The yard behind the basilica was seething with activity now, soldiers running in every direction. As we approached the door in the courtyard wall, four men were lifting a stretcher holding the body of the centurion. I signalled to my escort and he followed me as I made my way to them. I was surprised to find the centurion not only alive but conscious and compos mentis. He recognized me immediately and spoke in a strong voice.
"Who are you?"
"Name's Varrus, Publius Varrus." My voice sounded hollow. "How are you?"
"I'll live." He grunted and his lips twisted in a spasm of pain, but he went on. "Might not fight again, though. Elbow's shot off and my leg's broke. You don't look too good yourself. Is all that blood yours?"
"Blood? What blood?" I raised my hand to my head and brought it away sticky and red. "Hunh," I remember saying, "I suppose it must be." Then the roaring in my ears grew much louder and my knees gave way and I fell across him. I felt myself being picked up and carried, and then I lost consciousness completely.
When I awoke I found myself on a clean cot, my head swathed in bandages, being watched closely by a young soldier who asked me if I could hear him and then left as soon as I'd answered.
I remained flat on my back for a while, then gathered my strength and rose to my feet. I could hear strange noises in my head and the room swayed alarmingly for a few moments, but the dizziness soon passed. I walked cautiously across the room, then rested and prepared to do it again. But before I could begin, I heard footsteps approaching, and then the door swung open and I saw Picus looking down at me.
The boy I remembered was long vanished from this man. Picus was truly enormous! Each of us had now to adjust physically to the changes in the other. He towered more than a full head above me, and the rest of his body was scaled perfectly to his height. I could have fitted twice into his breastplate, and the strength of his arms as he hugged me threatened to crush my ribs. It was a joyous reunion. I knew why Caius was as proud as he was of this towering young giant he had sired.
"Uncle Varrus," he growled, in a great, deep voice. "Thank you, I owe you my life. How do you feel?"
I wrinkled my nose, wondering the same thing myself. "I don't know, Picus. Fine, I think, but not half as good as you look. Can I get out of here?"
Picus looked at the man beside him, a medic, from the looks of him, and said, "Well? Can he?"
The medic pursed his lips and shook his head. "I don't think he should, but he looks determined to go."
"I'm fine," I said. "My head aches, but there's nothing wrong with me, look!" I drew a deep breath and started to touch my toes, but the room started to spin around me and I sank back to sit on the side of the cot. Picus and the medic watched me, neither of them speaking. The room settled down after a few moments and I began to feel better. I raised my hands to the bandages around my head and face. "What happened to me? I wasn't wounded in the fight. No one came near me."