Legionary

Chapter 76

The Hun detachment lay broken, still and silent in the grass. The Gothic spearmen had finally stopped cheering, and let Amalric down from their shoulders. The Gothic prince had then roared the warriors into the Roman line — now formed in a wide crescent, six hundred men wide. Auxiliary archers hovered in front of them and the equites circled on the flanks, eager for the push over the ridge. Eight thousand they now numbered with these reinforcements.

Pavo stood with Sura on the front line, quickly gulping at cool water and tearing at their bread rations. No matter how much water he swigged, his mouth remained dry as sand, and he jigged on the balls of his feet as his bladder seemed to have filled up again.

‘Ha — the old soldier’s curse!’ Vitus grinned down at him.

‘It’s becoming all too familiar, sir,’ Pavo cocked an eyebrow.

The standards rippled across the line, lifted by a growing wind which seemed to be scudding dark storm clouds across the afternoon sky.

Vitus raised his arm to indicate to the I Italica Legion; the men of the XII Fulminata were ready. Only a murmur of voices and ripple of armour being adjusted could be heard, until Vitus grabbed the legionary standard and pumped it into the air.

‘Soldiers, advance!’

Pavo felt his blood race at the roar of the army. As one, they thundered forward. The ridge hovered ever closer.

Destiny lay on the other side.