The men hurried over and formed up in a solid column, shields to the front and javelins now grounded and angled forward, ready to serve as spears. In front of them the wall shook and showered chunks of rock on to the ground under another blow from the ram. On the fighting platform Macro was desperately ushering the men away from the collapsed breastwork so that they would not be caught in the falling masonry when the ram breached the wall.The next blow came, and another, and then after a slight delay the wall fell outwards in a rush of debris and a swirling cloud of dust. Cato clenched his hand tightly round the shaft of his javelin and raised it towards the gap in the inner wall that was wide enough for two men to get through at a time.

‘Forward!’ he shouted, and the reserve tramped towards the gap, keeping pace as their shields rose and the tips of their javelins were lowered towards the enemy.The first of the Judaeans burst through the red-tinted cloud of dust, his battle cry dying on his lips as he fell straight on to the points of two of the auxiliaries to the side of Cato. They ripped their weapons from the man’s guts and closed on the gap in the wall, just as more men scrambled through it, screaming and waving their swords in the glow of the flames licking up into the night sky above the fort. For an instant there was a gap of a spear’s length between the two sides and then the Judaeans were pressed up against the broad oval Roman shields, hammering away at them with the pommels of their swords, or slashing at any part of the defenders that came within reach of their blades. The first rank of auxiliaries could not wield their javelins in the crush and thrust them back to the men behind before drawing their swords and hacking and thrusting at the enemy before them. Those in the second and third ranks held their javelins overhead and stabbed at the faces in the front rank of the enemy horde trying to force its way through the breach.

Above the rasp and scrape of weapons and the grunts and shouts of the men packed around him, Cato heard Macro’s voice shout a warning to the men still on the wall.

‘Ladders! They’re bringing ladders up! Draw swords!’