“Do we know how many are in there, sir?” Julius asked.

Gaditicus looked surprised. “We’re taking that fort whether they have fifty or five hundred! They haven’t paid taxes for two years and the local governor has been murdered. Do you think we should wait for reinforcements?”

Julius colored with embarrassment. “No, sir.”

Gaditicus chuckled bitterly. “The navy is stretched thin enough as it is. You’ll get used to never having enough men and ships if you live through tonight. Now, move to your position and take a wide berth around the fort, using cover. Understand?”

“Yes, sir,” Julius replied, saluting again. Being an officer, even the lowest rank, was difficult at the best of times. He was expected to know his business, as if the ability came with the rank. He had never assaulted a fortress before by day or night, but was supposed to make decisions on the instant that could mean life or death for his men. He turned to them and felt a fresh surge of determination. He would not let them down.

“You heard the centurion. Silent progress, split formation. Let’s go.”

As one, they thumped their right fists into their leather breastplates in acknowledgment. Julius winced at the small sound they made.

“And none of that noisy business either. Until we are in the fort, any orders I give are not to be acknowledged. I don’t want you singing out ‘Yes, sir’ when we’re trying to move silently, all right?”

One or two grinned, but the tension was palpable as they made their slow and careful way through the cover. Two other units detached with them, leaving Gaditicus to command the frontal attack once the sentries had their throats cut.

Julius was thankful for the endless training drills as he saw the smooth way the men separated in pairs, with four of the long ladders to each unit. The soldiers could run up the wide rungs at almost full speed, and it would take only seconds to reach the top of the black walls and get into the fort. Then it would be vicious. With no way of knowing how many rebels faced them, the legionaries would be looking to kill as many as possible in the first few moments.

He signaled with a flat palm for the men to crouch as one of the sentry torches stopped close to their position. Sounds would carry easily, despite the rhythmic screech of the crickets in the grass. After a few moments, the sentry light moved on again and Julius caught the eyes of the closest officers, nodding to each other to begin the attack.

He stood and his heart beat faster. His men rose with him, one of them grunting slightly with the weight of the sturdy ladder. They began to trot up the broken rock of the south approach. Despite the muffling cloths on their sandals and armor, the thud of feet seemed loud to Julius as he broke into a light run beside his men. Pelitas was in the lead, at the head of the first ladder, but the order changed second by second as they scrambled up the uneven surface, denied even the light of the moon to see the ground. Gaditicus had chosen the night well.