He did not hear the missile coming, just saw the sparks its tip struck from the wall.

Now no effort of will could have prevented Valens diving into the lee of the final boulder.

He lay, curled up, making himself very small. His chest was heaving, like the flanks of a hound after a long chase.

He could not tell how long he cowered there. He tried telling himself the dimness would foil the aim of the archer. He could not stay here forever. Nothing could force him to move.

The horn sounded a third time, much closer.

Valens scrabbled over the boulder. The arrow flashed by his shoulder.

Ten paces to go.

From the opening, a huge bear of a man arose. Valens saw the glint of the sword. A knife against a sword? He would die.

Skidding to a halt, Valens dropped into a fighting crouch.

The big shaggy man laughed, got his long blade out in front.

There was no way Valens’s dagger could get past the longer reach. The man said something, the words incomprehensible but the tone mocking. Valens feinted right, near the abyss. The sword covered his movement, but not so far as to leave its wielder open. No room to manoeuvre. Valens was pinned between the rock face and the drop. This could only end one way. The swordsman thrust. Valens jumped back, giving ground. Another pace of two, and he would be trapped against the last boulder.

The thump of boots coming down the passage behind distracted the man. His head half turned. Valens struck. Grabbing his opponent’s sword arm with his left hand, he lunged at the face with the dagger in his right. The bearded man jerked away. Lowering the angle as the thrust went in, Valens felt the knife bite into the man’s left shoulder. With a savage twist, he yanked it free.

Dropping the sword, the man’s right hand instinctively went to the wound.

Valens closed in.

The man stepped back.

Like some primeval fury, Aulus burst from the passageway, screaming a war cry.

The man put up an arm to ward off the blow. The gesture was futile. Aulus’s blade sliced deep into his ribs.

Blinded by his agony, the man tottered to the edge of the chasm. He stood sawing, then began to topple backwards. Valens scrabbled forward, clutched the blood-soaked front of his tunic. The weight of the mortally injured man was too much. Valens felt himself being pulled out over the edge.

‘Aulus!’ he yelled.

The soldier stood, as if rooted to the spot.

Twisting his whole body, never slackening his grip, Valens threw himself backwards.

For a moment the forces were in equilibrium. Then Valens crashed back onto the ledge. The corpse landed heavily on top of him. The beard of the man scratched his face, and the blood ran hot and repulsive over his chest.

Chapter 20

CHAPTER 20

Matiane