The burly soldiers forced their way to his side as Cato stepped over a body, and then a space opened ahead of him. A swarthy easterner with long hair tied back stood in his path, a bloodied axe in one hand and a curved dagger in the other. As soon as his eyes fixed on Cato he sprang forward with a snarl, raising his axe. Cato raised his shield and took the blow on the upper rim. The impact drove through the metal trim and cut deep into the wood. The shock of the blow jolted Cato’s left shoulder. Before he could strike back, the renegade wrenched the axe free and, at the same time, swung his left hand round, towards Cato’s unguarded side. The blade punched into the scale armour and glanced downward, ripping through a fold in Cato’s tunic.

‘My turn,’ Cato said through gritted teeth, thrusting his shield forward. The boss caught the man in the ribs, driving the air from his lungs with a gasp. Cato followed it up with a thrust from his sword. Even though he was winded, the renegade nimbly side-stepped the blow and stood, axe raised and knife held ready, as he struggled to breathe. Then one of the other renegades stumbled into his side, and Cato’s opponent was knocked off balance. As he tried to regain his footing Cato charged forward, catching him with his shield and driving him back until his heel caught on a body and the renegade fell on to the deck. Cato drove the tip of his sword down into the man’s stomach, and then slammed the bottom edge of his shield on to his throat, crushing the windpipe.

Pulling his blade free, he moved on. Cato glanced quickly to both sides and saw that the legionaries were following up on his flanks. Many of Ajax’s men were tough but lacked battle training, and were no match for professional soldiers. The attackers had cleared the aft of the ship and now the fight stretched in a rough line across the deck. Step by step Ajax and his men were being driven back towards the bow. Not one of them threw down his weapons and asked for quarter, Cato noted.

He saw the black crest again, no more than ten feet from where he stood, and stepped forward, blocking a thrust with his shield. The man snatched his sword back and tried again, only to have the legionary to Cato’s left smash the blade towards the deck with his sword. Then, swinging the point up in a vicious arc, he stabbed the man in the stomach, cutting deep into his vitals.