‘Thanks.’ The messenger ran on, going past Sentius and his men without stopping. They were in tunics, boots and not much else, and some carried weapons, and he must have seen them, but did not seem to notice anything suspicious. In the same way the escaped legionaries watched him pass and did nothing. Domitius stared in bafflement at Ferox, who could only shrug.

The inner wall was less high than the outer curtain, because in front of the gate it sloped sharply upwards, and the inner wall stood on a ridge, which meant that its walkway led directly into a tower on the outer wall. Its gate was flanked by another tower on either side, narrower than the ones on the main wall, but again for anyone approaching from the outside, they were made larger by the slope. Coming from within, they were a good deal less daunting, hexagonal in shape, three storeys high, and each entered by a door at ground level. They did not look big enough to mount any artillery, save perhaps the lightest of bolt shooters, which made Ferox worry about their plan. Ahead of them the gates were closed and barred, and the only sentries were on the tops of the towers. They were shouting to each other, looking out ahead, and another glow in the sky suggested that Sosius was at work again.

Before Ferox could bang on the door of the right-hand tower, it opened, and a soldier appeared, with a high-crested, antique bronze helmet that would have seemed fitting on a statue of Athena.

‘Who are you?’ he demanded.

‘The Strategos Athenodorus sent me,’ Domitius announced. ‘Want’s that bolt shooter of yours fixed.’

‘Nothing wrong with it,’ the man replied belligerently. ‘Piss off and bother someone else!’

Ferox had not drawn his gladius, not wishing to appear suspicious, so bunched his fist and swung, catching the soldier under the chin, knocking him back.

‘Hispana!’ he shouted, but Bran was through the door ahead of him, sliding his sword from his scabbard as he went. A man thrust a spear at him, striking the wall instead. Bran cut, snapping the spear shaft, and the man was shouting. Ferox had his gladius, stabbed the first man as he was pushing himself up and went for the second, who backed towards stairs going up. A legionary appeared in the doorway, saw a man coming down and flung a spear over their heads. It missed, clattering into the stairs, but made the soldier retreat up them. Bran pushed aside the stub of the other soldier’s spear, and swept back to open his throat to the bone. He fell, blood gushing, and Ferox charged up the stairs bellowing. A man was at the top and he hit him with his shield, but the blow only knocked him back a little because this was a light shield made in the city and not one of the solid ones used by the army. Ferox lunged with his gladius, nicked the man on the leg, staggered as a blow came onto his shield, then slashed upwards. The soldier keened a high-pitched squeal and fell.