The Black Stone Read Free

looked through the trees towards the tower. A dozen torches were visible now, bobbing along as the column advanced. The first riders were no more than a hundred yards away.
    ‘That everyone?’ he asked, turning back towards the remainder of the men.
    ‘Numonis fell, sir. Done his ankle.’
    ‘All right, listen. Agorix will strike the front. We head along the side of the column and go for the cart. If we stop it, they can’t take the rock with them. If they can’t take it, there’s no point fighting on. Hit fast, hit hard … and remember who we toasted tonight. Mars is with us.’
    Though a couple nodded, most of the legionaries just stood there, trying to slow their breathing, probably fighting the urge to run. All in all, Ursus considered them a decent bunch, but there was a smattering of new recruits and some others whose only experience of fighting was mopping up Palmyran irregulars. He had little idea how they would do.
    Apelles came forward. He was a bearded, brawny Thracian who had somehow managed to equip himself with both spear and shield. He offered the shield to his centurion. Ursus knew he’d have a few of his beloved throwing darts mounted close to the handle.
    ‘Here, sir.’
    ‘Thank you, Apelles. But you keep it.’
    Ursus moved up to a position between two trees at the top of the bank. The noise of the horses rumbled along the paved road and he cursed as he saw that the rear of the column was still coming past the tower. Sixty? More like eighty.
    Glad to see no trace of Agorix and his squad, he ordered Bradua and Maro forward. Maro was the only man wearing a cloak.
    ‘Take that off. We need it to hide the flames. Bradua, light the torch.’
    The veteran opened the lantern shutter and carefully removed the candle. Maro held up his cloak, which was easily wide enough to prevent the light being seen from the road. Bradua crouched beside it and put the candle to the torch. The goatskin and oil took light easily and in moments the whole thing was aflame.
    ‘Draw swords.’
    Ursus armed himself once more and peered around the closest tree. The lead trio were twenty yards away, sitting high in their saddles, the middle man carrying a lantern. The raiders were armed with swords and wore pale, long-sleeved tunics. A few were also equipped with mail and helmets, all of a rudimentary design. What he saw told Ursus absolutely nothing about who they were or where they came from. Presumably that was the idea.
    He counted five more ranks of riders before he saw the cart. The vehicle seemed to fill the road and was drawn by four stout horses. All he could see in the rear was a dark shape.
    ‘Get ready.’
    As the lead riders drew level with their position, Ursus grabbed the flaming torch from Maro and threw it into the road.
    The raiders pulled up, one man already wrestling with his reins as his mount backed away from the flames.
    ‘Now!’
    By the time Ursus reached the bottom of the bank, Agorix and his men were already on the road. The Gaul went straight for the middle horse and hacked his blade deep into the animal’s neck. As Ursus bolted along the side of the column, he glimpsed the mount rearing and the rider being thrown.
    There was a strange moment of hesitation while the raiders struggled to react to what they were seeing. The second and third ranks did nothing more than watch Ursus run past them. The closest man in the fourth rank urged his horse out to block the Roman’s path but Ursus nipped up the bank and around him. He was then confronted by another horse and a spear-point coming at him.
    The spear suddenly fell to the ground and the attacker slumped back in his saddle, a small metal object sticking out of his throat.
    ‘With you, sir!’
    Apelles still hadn’t drawn his sword but already had another of the throwing darts ready. The driver of the cart was trying to control the horses and spied the Romans just before the second dart lodged itself in his chest. He dropped the reins and tried to