I drew my sword and turned to Gallia. ‘It is not right that my horsemen should risk their lives while their king sits idly on his horse.’
‘You and Remus wear no scale armour,’ said Gallia.
‘I will be in the third rank, have no fear.’
‘I am with you, lord,’ said Surena, who also pulled his sword from its scabbard.
‘You and the Amazons are our reserve,’ I said to Gallia, ‘Shamash keep you safe.’
I dug my knees into Remus and he shot forward as Surena followed, both of us galloping after the column of cataphracts that was now deploying into line to face the eastern side of the Roman square. Upon seeing the movement of the cataphracts and their redeployment, Vagises issued orders for his men in front of the heavy horsemen to withdraw as five hundred lances were lowered and the heavy horsemen broke into a trot and then a canter.
No horse will charge into a shield wall and so the cataphracts rode forward at a slow, controlled gallop, the front rank grasping the shaft of each kontus not in the middle but nearer to the butt spike, thereby extending it forward beyond the shoulders of their horses. In this way they could slow their mounts just before impact so the beasts would not panic and either swerve sideways or rear up on their hind legs. The second and third ranks rode forward at a slower pace so as not to collide into the front rank when the impact came — a loud scraping noise that heralded over a hundred kontus points being driven through scutums and into their owners’ bodies.
The riders in all three ranks of the heavy horsemen were widely spaced to allow the second rank to fill the gaps after the initial collision, the next wave of cataphracts moving forward into the openings to drive their lances into Roman shields and bodies. Horrible high-pitched screams pierced the air as men were literally skewered by lances that went through their bodies and into the earth behind, leaving legionaries pinioned to the ground.
Then the cataphracts drew their swords and hacked left and right at helmets, the dark metal splitting them with ease and the skulls underneath. Some Romans avoided the lances and swords and stabbed at horses with their short swords, the blows being deflected by steel scales and thick hide of scale armour. A few stabbed underneath the armour to slice open a horse’s belly, felling the animal and its rider, the pair collapsing onto other legionaries.
The fight was brief and bloody, the cataphracts cutting into the four threadbare ranks that made up this side of the Roman square, prompting some men to flee before the horsemen. Others rallied around the commanders of their centuries, instinctively seeking the security of their comrades, but in so doing they created gaps through which my horsemen flooded. They ignored the groups of Romans who adopted an all-round defence in their centuries and rode into the centre of the square where the senior commanders stood ready to defend the legion’s precious eagle.
One side of the square having been breached and fractured, Vagises sent in companies of horse archers to support the cataphracts, the bowmen shooting down fleeing Romans at short range. Some Romans, fatigued and demoralised, were now throwing down their weapons and attempting to surrender, a risky manoeuvre in the face of enemy horsemen who were not inclined to take prisoners while the battle was still waging. Some were lucky; others were not as more and more horsemen poured into the broken square.
With Surena beside me I accompanied the third rank as it entered the square killing any Roman who crossed its path. I swung my sword at the head of a Roman as he ran past me but failed to hit him. In front of me a lone rider in scale armour charged headlong at the group defending the legion’s eagle.
‘The idiot!’ shouted Surena as Spartacus directed his horse at the score or more men — senior officers and centurions — who guarded the legionary eagle, the sacred symbol of the Senate of Rome and honour of the legion.
I screamed at Remus to move and he bolted forward as I saw with horror Spartacus’ horse smash into the enemy soldiers and collapse to the ground, throwing its rider and rolling over those in its path. I pulled Remus up sharply and jumped from the saddle, sword in hand, as a centurion stood over Spartacus with his gladius drawn back, ready to plunge it into my nephew. I screamed at the top of my voice and ran at the Roman, plunging the point of my blade into his mail shirt. I tripped over Spartacus and tumbled to the ground as the dead centurion fell on top of me and then looked up, helplessly, to see an officer, a tribune in a muscled cuirass, pull the dead centurion off me so he could ram his sword through my chest. I stared, transfixed, as he stood over me, drew up his sword with both hands and then died as a kontus was driven through his body. He pitched forward with the point of the lance protruding from his chest as the cataphract releasing the shaft rode on past me, the point narrowly missing my throat as it stuck in the earth a few inches from my face. Once again a dead Roman had pinned me to the ground.
Surena hauled the body off me and helped me to my feet as Spartacus, oblivious to anything else, ran at the hulking figure draped in a lion skin holding the eagle. The Romans called them Aquilifers, these veterans who were the most senior standard bearers in every legion, and they were selected because they were seasoned soldiers who knew how to take care of the legion’s most precious object.
The Aquilifer rammed the butt spike of the shaft that held the eagle into the ground and drew his gladius as Spartacus swung his sword at the man’s head. The Roman ducked and thrust his own sword into the left arm of Spartacus, which was fortunately protected by tubular steel armour, causing the point to glance off it. My nephew attacked the Roman with a series of lightening-fast sword strikes, his blade moving so rapidly that it appeared that he was holding a weapon of the immortals as it flashed in the sunlight. But the Aquilifer parried every stroke and then smashed his small circular shield into Spartacus, knocking him to the ground.
The Roman raced to stand over him but Spartacus already had his dagger in his left hand and brought it down hard to go through the man’s foot. The Aquilifer screamed in pain and hobbled backwards as Spartacus then swung his sword and cut deep into the side of the Roman’s right calf. He screamed again and this time collapsed to the ground, blood gushing from his foot and lower leg. I ran to Spartacus and lifted him to his feet as Surena fought another Roman officer who had rushed to aid the Aquilifer. The latter had managed to haul himself to his feet but was knocked to the ground again as Spartacus swung his sword at the side of his helmet, severing the cheekguard and knocking the Roman senseless. He collapsed again as Spartacus jumped on him and launched a frenzied attack on him with his dagger, stabbing at his face and neck again and again, showering his face, hands and armour with the Aquilifer’s blood.
I hauled Spartacus up once more as Surena killed his opponent with a downward strike of his sword splitting helmet and skull. Cataphracts were now forming around us as more and more horse archers darted around, killing Romans who had thrown down their weapons and raised their hands in a sign of submission.
Spartacus was oblivious to the scenes of carnage around him as he stepped forward and touched the silver eagle with up-raised wings surrounded by a laurel wreath. He grasped the shaft and yanked it from the ground, holding it aloft for all to see while Surena and I flanked him to ensure that the enemy did not ruin his moment of triumph.
Cataphracts swirled around us and cut down Romans with their swords and maces, supported by the bows of Vagises’ men who were now shooting at point-blank range. Romans who had surrendered had been slaughtered, those who had attempted to run had been cut down and now the last vestiges of what had been half a legion were being methodically destroyed. I slapped Spartacus on the shoulder and left him in the capable hands of Surena as Gallia and the Amazons rode to where I was standing, my wife leading Remus by the reins.