and pulled them shut. Incensed by this attack on his home, Vespasian felt the heat of blood-lust rise in him for the second time. This time he would kill. Screams echoed around the courtyard as arrows andjavelins found their mark. He hurled a javelin directly at the nearest raider, an older man with a thick beard, a pock-marked face and his dark hair tied in a topknot, German style. The shaft hit him full in the centre of his chest, crunching through the sternum, its point coming to rest in the backbone, severing the spinal cord. Paralysis of the lower body was immediate and the man’s legs went limp. He slithered from his horse, hit the ground and lay there unable to move, blood rising in his throat, in the hideous realisation that he was breathing his last.
Sabinus pulled with all his strength on the rope. It sprang up from the ground catching two horses by their throats, sending them up on to their hind legs and throwing their riders under the hooves of the horses behind, who in their turn went careering into the rope. The impact pulled the rope savagely from Sabinus’ hands and sent him toppling off the roof. He managed to land on all fours and instantly stood up, drawing his sword as he did so. Two unhorsed raiders sprang at him, armed with spears and vicious-looking curved daggers. They were too close to Sabinus for the defenders to risk a shot. Vespasian and Titus, who both had one javelin left, ran along the roof, closer to Sabinus, to try and get a better angle.
The first man lunged overarm with his spear at Sabinus’ face. Ducking to his left, Sabinus brought his sword in a crosswise slash across the man’s belly; it burst open, like an overripe fig, spilling its contents on the ground. The man howled, dropping his spear as he tried to halt with his hands the tide of guts that flowed from his gaping abdomen.
The next man, a stocky, muscular Iberian, realising that he was up against a canny fighter, approached Sabinus with more caution. As he did so, two of the few remaining mounted raiders charged towards Sabinus, flinging their javelins. Catching their movement out of the corner of his eye, he managed to duck the first, but the second, aimed much lower, seared straight through his right calf.The Iberian saw his chance and leapt forward, thrusting his spear towards Sabinus’ unprotected chest, only to come to a sudden stop, looking down in surprise at Titus’ last javelin, which protruded from his ribcage.
The two horsemen came bearing down on the crippled Sabinus, swords drawn, yelling wildly. Without thinking Vespasian flung himself off the roof and, picking up the gutted man’s spear as he landed, stood, terrified but determined, at his brother’s side. One horseman, seeing a new target, made straight for him, leaning down to his right, his sword pointing at Vespasian’s chest, his wild eyes fixed upon his target. The adrenalin pumping through his veins seemed to slow time for Vespasian as he gauged the speed of the charge. His heartbeat pounded in his ears and, despite his fear, he felt a sense of calm flood over him; he had killed and he would now kill again. At the last moment he jumped to his right, jammed the butt of the spear into the ground, and held it at forty-five degrees. Half a ton of horse drove itself straight on to the spear head, burying it far into its heart, which exploded in a spray of deep-red blood over Vespasian and his brother. The creature dropped dead, catapulting its rider over its head and straight on to Vespasian. The second rider slashed at Sabinus as he sped past. Sabinus, with the javelin still piercing his calf, wasn’t nimble enough to dodge the blow; he caught the tip in his right shoulder and went down. Vespasian recovered quickly; throwing off the body of the winded rider, he drew his sword, pulled back the prone man’s head by his hair and slit his throat. He then stood over the body of his brother as the second rider wheeled his horse round and urged it back
Sabinus pulled with all his strength on the rope. It sprang up from the ground catching two horses by their throats, sending them up on to their hind legs and throwing their riders under the hooves of the horses behind, who in their turn went careering into the rope. The impact pulled the rope savagely from Sabinus’ hands and sent him toppling off the roof. He managed to land on all fours and instantly stood up, drawing his sword as he did so. Two unhorsed raiders sprang at him, armed with spears and vicious-looking curved daggers. They were too close to Sabinus for the defenders to risk a shot. Vespasian and Titus, who both had one javelin left, ran along the roof, closer to Sabinus, to try and get a better angle.
The first man lunged overarm with his spear at Sabinus’ face. Ducking to his left, Sabinus brought his sword in a crosswise slash across the man’s belly; it burst open, like an overripe fig, spilling its contents on the ground. The man howled, dropping his spear as he tried to halt with his hands the tide of guts that flowed from his gaping abdomen.
The next man, a stocky, muscular Iberian, realising that he was up against a canny fighter, approached Sabinus with more caution. As he did so, two of the few remaining mounted raiders charged towards Sabinus, flinging their javelins. Catching their movement out of the corner of his eye, he managed to duck the first, but the second, aimed much lower, seared straight through his right calf.The Iberian saw his chance and leapt forward, thrusting his spear towards Sabinus’ unprotected chest, only to come to a sudden stop, looking down in surprise at Titus’ last javelin, which protruded from his ribcage.
The two horsemen came bearing down on the crippled Sabinus, swords drawn, yelling wildly. Without thinking Vespasian flung himself off the roof and, picking up the gutted man’s spear as he landed, stood, terrified but determined, at his brother’s side. One horseman, seeing a new target, made straight for him, leaning down to his right, his sword pointing at Vespasian’s chest, his wild eyes fixed upon his target. The adrenalin pumping through his veins seemed to slow time for Vespasian as he gauged the speed of the charge. His heartbeat pounded in his ears and, despite his fear, he felt a sense of calm flood over him; he had killed and he would now kill again. At the last moment he jumped to his right, jammed the butt of the spear into the ground, and held it at forty-five degrees. Half a ton of horse drove itself straight on to the spear head, burying it far into its heart, which exploded in a spray of deep-red blood over Vespasian and his brother. The creature dropped dead, catapulting its rider over its head and straight on to Vespasian. The second rider slashed at Sabinus as he sped past. Sabinus, with the javelin still piercing his calf, wasn’t nimble enough to dodge the blow; he caught the tip in his right shoulder and went down. Vespasian recovered quickly; throwing off the body of the winded rider, he drew his sword, pulled back the prone man’s head by his hair and slit his throat. He then stood over the body of his brother as the second rider wheeled his horse round and urged it back
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