A few shots later, the corner of the gatehouse collapsed on to the ground outside the fort and once the sound of crumbling masonry had died away the defenders could hear the triumphant cries of the enemy. Cato glanced up at the gatehouse and saw the wide gap in the top of the wall next to the collapsed section, as if some great Titan had torn a chunk of the defences away with his teeth. And still the bombardment continued without let-up. Indeed, once the corner had given way, Cato steadily counted between impacts, and calculated that the enemy had increased the frequency of the rocks they were lobbing at the fort. Each blow on the loosened stonework caused more of the structure to collapse on to the existing rubble with a rumble of heavy masonry and the slither and rattle of smaller stones.As the sun sank towards the horizon behind the enemy camp the ruin of the gatehouse became a jagged silhouette, until at last the arch above the gate fell in and all that remained was a tangled heap of rubble and shattered beams of wood.

As dusk fell across the surrounding desert Macro and Cato climbed into one of the corner towers to survey the situation. Some of the enemy, emboldened by the destruction of the gatehouse, had ventured close enough to the fort to attract the attention of the archers stationed at intervals along the wall and every so often an arrow whirred out from the fort towards the nearest men, causing them to scatter and dive for cover. Macro was cheered by the sight of one man, slower to react than his companions, who happened to look up just as the heavy barbed tip of a shaft smashed into his face and burst out the back of his skull.

‘Fine shot!’ Macro bellowed along the wall and one of the archers quickly turned to bow his head in acknowledgement before quickly notching another arrow and looking for his next target.

As the last of the light began to fade the enemy pounded what was left of the gatehouse and then ceased the bombardment. They would resume in the morning and after a few more hours the breach would be practicable for Bannus and his army to assault. Fires appeared in the enemy encampment and the sounds of singing and laughter could be clearly heard by the defenders as they continued to build up the inner wall. Macro and Cato inspected the work of their men by torchlight. The new wall rose to a height of nearly eight feet and was thick enough to withstand the pressure of a wave of men pressing up against it. On the inside stood a narrow fighting platform from which the defenders could strike down on the enemy as they clambered over the rubble strewn across the ground in front of the wall.

Macro patted the rough surface. ‘It’ll do.’