Anthony Riches - Fortress of Spears

‘If we fight these bastards off, you, me and the boys, you’ll take us with you?’

Dubnus held up a hand to the cavalrymen, his voice harsh with authority.

‘One moment, gentlemen, my watch officer wants to ask me a question.’

The infuriated cavalrymen seethed, but none of them was yet brave enough to be the first man to rush the intimidating centurion, and so they contented themselves with indignant looks while he turned to the watch officer with a raised eyebrow, his voice softened so as not to cross the gap to them.

‘You’re telling me that you want to fight for your place with the cohort?’

Titus nodded slowly.

‘There’s fifteen of them, and seven of us. If we send them away with a spanking, and the cohort’s honour intact, you agree to get us on to your boat for Germania?’

Dubnus nodded slowly.

‘Very well, you cheeky bastard, you’re on. I have no idea how, but if we send these donkey wallopers home to Mummy with their arses kicked, I’ll find a way for you to be Tungrians. And may Cocidius forgive me.’

Titus smiled happily back at him, putting two fingers to his mouth and blowing a piercing note. After a moment’s pause the barrack door behind them burst open, and the five other men who had accompanied Dubnus to Waterside Fort crowded through it, led by the grizzled soldier who had made the impassioned plea on their behalf at Fort Habitus. Their watch officer flicked his wrist, allowing a heavy leather-lined cosh to fall from his sleeve, pointed at the cavalrymen and bellowed a single word, lifting the weapon and stepping forward to find his first victim.

‘Habitus!’