‘Shoot them down!’ Ajax shouted, thrusting his arm out. The nearest archers on the roof of the temple turned at once, aimed down and loosed their shafts. Two men fell, one clutching at the arrow that had passed through his thigh, the other shot through the neck. But the ramp carriers ran on. When they reached the wall, the leading pair heaved the end of the ladder up and the poles clattered down on the top of the barricade. At once the nearest Roman soldiers broke ranks and surged forward, boots thudding down on the ramp before the defenders could push it away. Ajax thrust at the poles of the second ramp before the first of the legionaries reached it and the ramp grated back and then toppled to one side. The iron nails of the boots of the leading legionary scraped on the palm logs as he charged up towards the defenders. Ajax glimpsed the shield above him, and the sword blade rising up, gleaming as it caught the light from one of the archers’ braziers. He hacked horizontally, beneath the rim of the shield, and the edge of his blade bit into the Roman’s shin, just above his ankle, cutting through flesh and muscle before shattering bone. The man let up a shrill cry as his leg gave way and he fell back on the legionary behind him. The second man was knocked off balance and fell off the ramp, together with his wounded comrade, and both landed with a heavy clatter as their armour and shields struck the ground.