“Hey,” Scott said, stepping forward with his hands in the air. “We’re not attacking you, dude. We know the pressure you’re under. We know time’s running out. Just keep us in the loop, okay? How about you tell us what the plan is and we take it from there.”

Cade felt the edges of his lips curl a little. “We’re gonna form a testudo, behind the cannon cart, and shove it down that path,” he said, motioning in the fortress’s direction. “Then when we get close, we light the fuse.”

“But what if that … laser thing shoots again?” Bea asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“We can’t worry about that,” Cade said. “As far as we know, they had one shot with that thing.”

“Why would you think that?” Scott asked. “Just because they didn’t shoot the Romans when they lay siege here last time doesn’t mean they didn’t have it up their sleeve.”

Cade shook his head. “We’ve only got one shot with that big cannon,” he said. “These guys are just like us—fighting using remnants of their past. I mean, the Grays in that fortress might be from a time before technology even developed on their planet, just like our Romans. Maybe they found some super weapon, with a single round in it. We just don’t know.”

“Wish we found a super weapon,” Scott said, kicking at the ground. “Not some rusted old relics.”

Cade inclined his head. “We’ll see just how super this stuff is in a few minutes,” he said.

There was no movement from the fortress. Not even when the carriage was surreptitiously moved onto the trodden path at the front, or when the score of men who would push it gathered behind.

Cade and his contenders pressed together, crouched behind the canvas-top carriage, where bales of purple hay had been piled within. The canvas top had been removed—it was Cade’s hope that the Grays would confuse their attack as an attempt to burn down the doors, which of course would not work on metal and leave the Grays complacent.

The back of the carriage had been affixed with two long pieces of wood, ones that the contenders and accompanying legionaries would use to propel the cart down the track and right up against the doors themselves. There was also a flaming torch slotted in a holder at the very back, ready for Cade to ignite the cannons.

These torches would be held by each contender in one hand, while the other would hold a shield above in a makeshift testudo formation, to protect his friends’ heads from javelins and arrows.

Now, they stood waiting, and Cade wished that Marius was with him. But the commander had chosen to lead one of the pincers, preferring to stay with the majority of his men.

Which meant it fell to him to give the order. He could almost feel the hot breath of the waiting men on his neck, and with it the weight of the lives of a further two hundred soldiers. But far greater was the weight of billions on a planet far, far away.