Severus stood his ground, shield raised and sword held back ready to strike. He had no choice. The ranks of the men behind him made retreat impossible. The giant planted a foot forward and swung his axe in a wide arc at chest height. Macro heard the whipping hiss of the axe head as it cut through the air, then the shattering crash as it tore through the edge of Severus’s shield, shattering the bronze trim and the layers of wood and leather which exploded into fragments under the terrifying power of the blow. The ruined shield leaped from the centurion’s numbed fingers and tumbled over the side of the causeway into the ditch. The giant let out a triumphant cry and continued his swing with bunched muscles. The axe swept round again, this time at a slightly greater height. Severus half turned to throw his sword up and try to block the blow, his mouth opening as a last cry tore from his lips. ‘Noooo!’

The axe head clanged as it knocked the sword from the centurion’s grip, sending the weapon cartwheeling through the air. An instant later the edge struck the centurion in the neck, cleaving through flesh and bone and sending the head, encased in its polished helmet, leaping from the officer’s shoulders.

‘Fuck me . . .’ Macro was momentarily astonished by the deed, then, with a cold stab of reason, he knew that he would be the man’s next victim.

‘Not me, friend!’ he growled as he turned towards the giant and powered forward, crouching to lower his centre of balance. Nothing could resist the impact of such a heavy axe, Macro knew. He had to get close to the giant, inside the range of his fearsome weapon. Already the Silurian warrior was turning towards him, wielding his axe and making ready to strike. Macro charged home, thrusting his shield up just before he crashed into the man. The trim at the top of the shield caught him under the chin, snapping his jaw shut and cutting off his bellowing war cry. At the same time Macro swung his sword arm out and stabbed in at an angle. It was not the most effective blow, lacking power, but it caught his man in the side, below the ribs; it penetrated the folds of his fur cloak and bit into his flesh before Macro fetched up hard against the inside of his shield, marvelling at the solidity of his opponent. He braced his boots and shoved as he snatched his sword out and stabbed again, and again, hearing the man’s grunt as the blows drove the breath from his lungs.

Knowing that his axe would not serve him well in such a close struggle, the giant threw it down and grasped the sides of the shield and tried to rip it from Macro’s grasp.