‘Keep going!’ a centurion yelled.

A cavalryman from one of the cohorts was thrown down by a bolt from an engine. His comrade went to help, saw that it was hopeless and as he turned back to the wall a stone slammed into his face and smashed it to bloody ruin. Arrows claimed more of the assault party and in a moment only the trio were left.

‘Charge! Charge!’ a centurion screamed. He stepped ahead of the men, turning his back to the enemy, and yelled at the legionaries to come on.

Crispinus moved to get down from the observation tower and Hadrian grabbed his arm and held him. ‘No,’ he said. ‘Not today.’

Secundus reached the wall first. Priscus had a graze on the calf, just above his boot, and Felix helped him. Crispinus wondered whether they realised that the supports were not coming and suspected that they did not. He could see Secundus shouting, and the other two held one of the shields level, so that he could jump onto it. They heaved, he slashed, clearing a space on the parapet, and somehow managed to vault over. An archer leaned out, further on, and sent an arrow squarely into Priscus’ back. He arched away from the pain, letting go of the shield and there was time for a second arrow to drive through his mail shirt before a bolt from a scorpio went into the archer’s head and he vanished.

‘Come on, you cowards, follow me!’ the centurion shouted, almost pleading with his men. They did not move. A fire arrow arced through the sky to land on the spoil in front of the breach, and the legionaries ran. No one stopped to see that the flames went out almost immediately.

Felix drove his sword as far as the hilt into the rampart, reached down to take Priscus’ sword and started to climb. Secundus’ head and shoulders were visible above the parapet, and Crispinus saw his arm come back and thrust forward at eye level. He turned, punching with his shield, clearing space for the youngster to join him, and Felix was almost up when a stone dented the front of his iron helmet and he fell back. That left one man alone, facing the entire enemy army, and the man was not a hero, but a bad character who had skived his way through long years of service. Something of his training had rubbed off, for his balance was good, shield and sword working together, pushing men back, wounding them if they came close. Then he glanced back, saw his fallen comrades and no one else, swept his heavy scutum in a wild arc and hurled it at the enemy

‘I think we can forget any charges about the past,’ Hadrian said quietly, for Crispinus had told him about the men. They watched as Secundus jumped back down. Felix was up, staggering to the rear, so he leaned over and hauled Priscus onto his back. Arrows pursued them. The first ones missed, even though the range was short and the target so easy. Secundus had come twenty paces before an arrow drove into his thigh. He wavered, almost dropped his burden, then went on, blood streaming down his leg. The arrows stopped coming and the defenders watched the three bloodied legionaries weave their way through the corpses as they went down from the breach.