As he dropped down from his saddle, Cato gestured for one of the command post orderlies to bring him a shield and he swiftly raised it up as the first of the enemy slingshot began to whip down, smacking into the sandy ground. All around, the arrows and slingshot clattered off the shields of the legionaries. A handful of arrows pierced the leather covers and lodged in the layers of laminated wood, while other missiles succeeded in striking home. Close by, Cato saw an optio’s head snap back as he caught a deflection off the top of his shield. The slingshot shattered his skull and the man fell to the ground and lay still. More men were struck, the majority wounded, but some killed outright, amid the ranks of the legion. Macro’s cohort, being the largest and nearest to the enemy, took the brunt of the damage. Keeping a watchful eye out for any missiles, Cato was gratified by the sight of the men closing ranks wherever one of their comrades was struck down.

The exchange of missiles from both sides continued unabated for what seemed far longer than it actually was. Cato wondered how much his men could take before their ranks were thinned out enough for the enemy to break through on their first charge. Already, over a hundred of his men were down, he estimated, with more being hit all the while. And then the enemy’s barrage slackened and died away as they began to expend their ammunition. Several horns blasted out and the Nubians let out a bloodthirsty roar at the signal, and then surged forward in a charge over the final strip of sand separating them from the Romans.

‘Javelins!’ Macro called out and the front rank rose up from behind their shields and drew their throwing arms back. The fleetest of the Nubians was already within range of the lightest javelins. Macro snatched a breath and cried out, ‘Release!’

The legionaries hurled their right arms forward and the javelins leaped from their hands. Although the javelins had the least range of the missiles the Romans used to whittle down their attackers, they were almost as lethal as the bolt throwers, and Macro watched with cool satisfaction as the first volley skewered many of the Nubians leading the charge. At once the men in the second line of legionaries handed a fresh javelin to their comrades and a follow-up volley landed amongst the enemy, the heavy shafts bursting through shields and flesh and bone with flat thuds. There was just time for a third release of javelins before the front ranks wrenched out their short swords, swiftly ordered their ranks and presented their shields to the enemy.