‘Easy there, sunshine.’ Macro backed away. The rest of the auxiliaries were only a short distance behind - the sound of their hooves echoed up the street. The brigand glanced over his shoulder and then turned back to Macro. His grin had vanished and now he scrambled forward with a cold glint in his eyes. Macro felt his back thud up against a wall and turned his head and saw that he would be trapped in a corner if he went to his left. Tensing his legs, he sprang to the right and ran for the edge of the building, just as the brigand thrust the sword. It struck the wall in an explosion of loose plaster, then with a cry of frustration the man ran after Macro. Macro sprinted past a door, which swung open an instant later, straight into the face of the brigand. Cato emerged into the street blinking and jumped as the door rebounded towards him.Then he turned and saw Macro, and smiled.

‘I wondered when-’ Cato’s smile froze as his friend slithered to a stop, reversed direction with a menacing grimace and dived back past the door. The brigand was flat on his back, winded. Macro stamped down on the wrist of his sword arm and the fingers instinctively flinched, releasing the blade.

‘I’ll have that back, thank you.’ Macro dipped down to retrieve his sword, then delivered a savage kick to the side of the man’s head, knocking him senseless. There was a confused din of shouts and whinnying and Macro turned to where the street fed into the centre of the village.The horses that had collided were still thrashing around and the cavalry had been forced to stop, piling up into a dense mass just beyond the flailing hooves. Then Macro’s horse rolled over, clambered up and lurched nervously to one side. The auxiliaries squeezed past and Macro waved them on.

‘Don’t stop! Get after the bastards! Go! Go!’

They stumbled by in a rush of horseflesh, kicking boots, and shields as Macro turned back to Cato. Behind them Symeon emerged from the house and watched the riders go past with a relieved grin. He nodded a greeting at Macro.

‘Nice timing, Cato.’ Macro nodded to the unconscious brigand, then focused on the pallor of his friend’s face, which was streaked with blood. ‘How’s the head?’

‘Sore. I feel a bit sick. But I’ll live.You got here just in time.They’d have surely found us if you’d been a moment longer.’

‘I nearly didn’t get here at all. Had a hard time persuading that bloody prefect at the fort to send these auxiliary boys out.’

‘Why persuade him?’ Cato frowned. ‘You’ve replaced him.You’re the new prefect.’