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Chapters (43)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Page
  3. By Simon Scarrow
  4. Dedication
  5. Acknowledgements
  6. CHAPTER ONE
  7. CHAPTER TWO
  8. CHAPTER THREE
  9. CHAPTER FOUR
  10. CHAPTER FIVE
  11. CHAPTER SIX
  12. CHAPTER SEVEN
  13. CHAPTER EIGHT
  14. CHAPTER NINE
  15. CHAPTER TEN
  16. CHAPTER ELEVEN
  17. CHAPTER TWELVE
  18. CHAPTER THIRTEEN
  19. CHAPTER FOURTEEN
  20. CHAPTER FIFTEEN
  21. CHAPTER SIXTEEN
  22. CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
  23. CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
  24. CHAPTER NINETEEN
  25. CHAPTER TWENTY
  26. CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
  27. CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
  28. CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
  29. CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
  30. CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
  31. CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
  32. CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
  33. CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
  34. CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
  35. CHAPTER THIRTY
  36. CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
  37. CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
  38. CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
  39. CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
  40. CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
  41. CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
  42. EPILOGUE
  43. AUTHOR’S NOTE

On both sides the crews of the bolt throwers began to ratchet back the torsion arms with a sharp metallic clatter. Then the heavy, iron-tipped shafts, as long as a man’s arm, were loaded on to the weapons and there was a brief pause before the order bellowed out, ‘Loose!’

The brief chorus of cracks drowned out the enemy instruments as a veil of missiles seemed to waft up and over the intervening ground before disappearing in amongst the Nubian foot soldiers. Cato well knew the damage that such a volley could wreak amongst dense formations of men and yet the enemy came on without any sign of hesitation, or diminution of their battle cries. It was as if the host had simply absorbed the missiles rather than lost scores of men, pierced through and hurled back against their comrades by the force of the impact. A second volley arced towards the enemy, and this time the bolts struck some of the leading men, tearing through two or three at a time. Then the dead and wounded were lost from sight as their companions stepped round or over them and continued the advance.

At just over two hundred paces the Roman archers loosed their first arrows, with a sound like a rush of wind through the leaves of some great tree. The arrows lifted high into the air and then dashed down amid the enemy, and still they came on at an unbroken pace, hefting their shields round and grasping their weapons firmly as they closed on the waiting Romans.

‘Front rank!’ Macro called out. ‘Prepare javelins!’

The first line of legionaries raised their javelins in an overhand grip, shifting side on to the Nubians as they took two steps forward and waited for Macro’s order to hurl their weapons.

Just within a hundred paces of the Roman line the Nubians shuffled to a halt. They continued to yell their cries and taunts, and waved their weapons to challenge their foe.

‘What are they waiting for?’ asked one of the tribunes. ‘Why don’t they charge?’

Cato knew why, well enough, and drew a deep breath. ‘Stand by to receive missiles!’

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

As the order was hurriedly repeated down the line, a mix of slinghot and arrows began to rise up over the head of the front ranks of Nubians. They were shooting blind, Cato realised with a small measure of relief. Even so, some of their missiles were bound to strike home. He turned to his officers. ‘Better dismount, gentlemen. Take what cover you can find.’