Brutus looked up at him quizzically. “Are you sure? If they’re hostile, we can defend better from within the walls.”

“Open the gates,” Tubruk replied quietly, with a peculiar expression on his face.

Brutus shrugged and gave the order to the men of Primigenia, who drew their swords as they moved forward. His heart pounded and he felt the wild joy that came from his certainty. There was no one alive who could beat him with a blade, not since a day with Renius in the same yard, many years before.

“All right, you old devil, but if I get killed, I’ll be waiting for you when it’s your time!”

*                                                      *                                                      *

Julius saw the armed men come out of the gates and stiffened. What had happened?

“Ready weapons!” he snapped suddenly and his men lost their cheerful expressions on the instant. What had seemed a victorious return had suddenly become edged with danger. Cabera jumped at the order, scanning the unknown force with a squint. He reached out a hand to catch Julius’s attention, but thought better of it and grinned to himself, raising his dagger and gesticulating furiously with it. He was enjoying himself tremendously, but his mood wasn’t shared by the soldiers around him. They had been expecting a hero’s welcome after too many hard months of travel and killing. Their expressions were savage as their swords came out one more time.

“Line formation!” Julius ordered, seething. If his house had been taken, he would destroy them, leaving nothing alive. His heart twinged for his mother and Tubruk.

He ran a professional eye over the soldiers deploying before the walls. No more than twenty, though they could have others hidden inside. Legionaries. They moved well, but he would trust his Wolves against any other soldiers anywhere, and they had the numbers. He put all thoughts of his family aside and prepared to give the order to charge.

*                                                      *                                                      *

“Sweet Mars! They’re going to attack!” Brutus exclaimed as he saw the column swing out into an offensive formation. As he saw the numbers against him, he was tempted to order his men back into safety, but there wouldn’t be time to close the gates and the enemy would cut them to pieces as they retreated.

“Secure the gates, Tubruk!” he bellowed. The old fool had completely misjudged the threat and now there was a price to be paid.

To Brutus’s pride, the men of Primigenia didn’t falter as they understood the fact of their inevitable destruction. They took their positions close to the estate wall and readied weapons, unstrapping javelins to throw as the charge came. Each man carried four of the long spears, and many of the enemy would fall to them before they were close enough for swords.

“Steady . . .” Brutus called over the heads of his men. Just a few more paces and the advancing lines would be in range.