Julius nodded, unable to believe what was happening. His mind raced, but there was nothing to be done. When he realized that, he finally relaxed and laughed, making Brutus jump. The man with the dagger returned it, chuckling softly as he looked at the young Roman.

“You might as well laugh, lad. This is a tight space for a bit of a struggle. Do what you came for; it won’t make any difference. There won’t be much stopping us tomorrow, no matter what you report back.”

Watching the man for sudden movement, Julius sat down, his heart hammering at the thought of one quick push sending him over the edge. The situation was strange to say the least, but the man with the knife seemed to be enjoying it. Whoever he was, he seemed completely relaxed, removed from the struggle they would all face back on the ground.

From the top of the granite spike, the rebel camp seemed incredibly close, almost as if a good leap would have them land in the center of it. Julius looked it over and wondered if they would be allowed to return before the watch centurion reported them missing.

The man with the knife put it away in his tunic and sat next to Julius, following his gaze. “Biggest army I ever saw,” he said cheerfully, motioning toward the rebel camp. “Tomorrow will be hard on you, I should think.”

Julius said nothing, unwilling to be drawn. Privately, he had the same impression. The enemy camp was almost too large to take in and looked as if it could swallow the eight legions without trouble.

Brutus and the wrestler had remained standing, keeping a close eye on each other’s movements. The man with the knife grinned at the pair of them.

“Sit down, you two,” he said, gesturing with a flick of his head. Reluctantly, they edged together and sat close, as tense as wires.

“You must have what, thirty, forty thousand men?” the wrestler asked Brutus.

“Keep guessing,” Brutus replied curtly and the man began to rise, held down with the lightest touch from his companion.

“What does it matter now? We’ll send the Romans running, no matter how many they have.” He grinned at Julius, clearly hoping he would rise to the barb.

Julius ignored him, busy memorizing the few details of the camp he could make out in the dim light. He noted the moon had sunk lower and stood slowly so as not to alarm his strange companions.

“We should be going back now,” he said. The tension returned to him then, tightening his sore muscles.