The horse sensed his urgency and struggled on, as fast as its trembling limbs could carry it, towards the line of infantry striding towards them. Then it seemed to miss a step, and staggered on for an instant before its front legs began to buckle. Macro released the reins and grabbed the saddle horns with all his might to stop himself being thrown forward. The beast slowed and then collapsed, thudding belly first on to the ground. At once Macro heaved himself off, and sprinted towards the oncoming infantry. Behind him he heard the exultant cry of the brigands as they scented his blood. He glanced back and saw them only a short distance behind, blades drawn, the leading man leaning out to one side, sword rising up ready to strike. Just beyond the line of infantrymen the decurion suddenly wheeled his horse round, drew his weapon and spurred his mount back down the track, knocking aside one of the infantry as he charged towards Macro. At the last moment, he cried out, ‘Get down!’

Macro’s ears were filled with the pounding rhythm of hooves as he threw himself to one side, off the track, and rolled heavily, the impact driving the breath from his lungs. A large shadow danced across the ground beside him and he heard the swish of a blade cutting through the air. Then the legs of horses were all about him and Macro curled into a ball, shielding his head in his burly arms as he was sprayed with gravel. Blades clashed with a shrill ring and the decurion shouted, ‘No you don’t, you bastard!’ Each time Macro tried to glance up, he was blinded by grit and dust, and only heard the fight going on around him.Then something spattered down on him, hot and wet, and a voice grunted in triumph.

‘Get ‘em!’ a voice shouted. ‘Stick it to ‘em, Second Illyrian!’

Then there were booted feet all round Macro, more shadows, and someone grabbed him under the arms and hauled him up.

‘You all right, mate?’ A man’s face loomed in front of him. Then the soldier saw Macro’s mail vest and the medallions on his harness. ‘Sorry, sir.You all right?’

Macro was dazed. ‘Yes, fine.’

Then he noticed the doubtful look on the man’s face and glanced down and saw that a great streak of bood splashed across his shoulders and down his left arm. His fingers fumbled over the blood, but found no injury.’Not mine.’