Stepping over the body of the man he had knocked out Cato saw an exposed armpit and instinctively drove the tip of his short sword into the man's chest, yanked it back and looked for the next target. Mandrax had lost his sword and was using the Wolf standard like a cross-staff, thrusting with the ends and knocking men down with vicious swipes from the side. Cato kept his distance and turned just in time to see a man rushing at him with a levelled spear. The Centurion threw his shield up and the blade struck the curved surface of the boss and glanced off to the side. Without any warning the warrior let go of the spear and grabbed the rim of Cato's shield, wrenching it from the Roman's grip. Before Cato could react the man's hands were at his throat and the impetus of the warrior's attack drove Cato on to the ground. He felt rough hands tightening their grip, thumbs pressing hard on his windpipe. Cato's right arm was pinned down under his back, the left was too weak to shift the man on its own, and Cato could only flail at his back, grabbing the man's hair and trying to yank his head back.
Suddenly the man lunged forward, teeth bared, as though he were trying to bite Cato on the nose. The centurion yanked his head to one side and caught the man with the edge of his cheek guard. For an instant the grip on his throat relaxed and Cato smashed his helmet up, crushing his enemy's nose with the solid metal brim. The warrior howled, and instinctively reached for his face. As soon as he was free of the stranglehold Cato grabbed the handle of his dagger and ripped the short broad blade from his scabbard. Raising it behind the man's back he thrust the tip into the base of the Briton's skull.
The man stiffened, muscles suddenly rigid, then he started trembling. Cato let go of the dagger handle and heaved the body to one side as he scrambled back to his feet.
He snatched up his sword and saw that several of the enemy were surrounding the end of Verica's wagon. The royal bodyguard had died defending their king and now only Cadminius remained on his feet, his kite shield held out in front of him as he dared his foes to attack, sword held to the side ready to swing at the first man foolhardy enough to challenge him. Even as Cato watched, an enemy warrior howled and threw himself forward. But the captain of the king's bodyguard had won his position because he could best any other fighter in the Atrebatan nation, and the sword blade flickered round to meet the attack faster than Cato would have believed possible. The point went right through the stomach of the enemy warrior and burst out of his back. At once Cadminius jerked the blade free and with a snarl of contempt shouted a challenge to the rest of the men ringed about him.
But the odds facing him were just too great, and as one man feinted, Cadminius turned to meet the threat before he realised it was a trick. The blade of a spear thudded into his shoulder, causing him to drop his shield as his fingers spasmed. Then they rushed him. With a howl of rage Cadminius slashed his sword through the air and the blade struck off a man's head, the blow sending it leaping into the air. Then Cadminius was thrown back against Verica's wagon, swords and spears plunged deep into his chest and stomach. He made one last wild effort to wrench himself free, but he was pinned to the timbers behind and screamed in frustration, blood and spittle spraying from his lips.
He half turned his head and cried out, 'My lord! Flee!' Then slid to the ground, his head lolling on to his broad chest.
All this Cato saw in the briefest of moments, as the centurion grabbed his shield and raced the short distance to the rear of Verica's wagon. A tangle of white hair rose up from the wagon, and Verica peered down at his attackers with alarm. Then he recovered his poise and his expression fixed in contempt for his enemies. The first of the warriors reached a hand up and began to pull himself towards the Atrebatan king.
'Wolves!' Cato screamed out as he charged home. 'On me! On me!'
The four remaining enemies turned towards Cato, but it was already too late for the first to react. The centurion's blade caught him high in the back and ripped through muscle and ribs to pierce his heart. Cato slammed his shield into the face of the next man as he tried to wrench the blade free, but it was jammed, and as the body slumped down the sword handle was ripped from Cato's grasp. He stepped astride Cadminius' body with his back to the wagon, unarmed, with only his shield to save him now.
'Wolves!' he called again. 'For fuck's sake! On me!'
The last two warriors took a moment to realise that the centurion was not armed and with triumph gleaming in their eyes they closed in on Cato. One grasped the edge of the shield and wrenched it aside, as his companion drew back his spear and thrust it at the Roman. There was nowhere to go and Cato watched in horror as the spear tip came towards him, time slowing as he stared wide-eyed at his death. Suddenly he was knocked to the side as a figure flew over his shoulder and the spearman tumbled back on to the ground.
Mandrax and the surviving members of the Atrebatan cohort came running up, and the last of the attackers was impaled on the end of the wolf standard. As the men formed a small screen around the wagon Cato crawled over towards Verica. The king was lying on top of the spearman he had felled, his bony hand clasped round the handle of an ornate dagger whose blade was buried in the eye socket of his enemy.
'My lord!' Cato gently lifted the king off the dead man. Verica's eyes flickered open and he seemed to struggle to focus as his gaze fixed on Cato.
Verica smiled feebly. 'You're all right?'
'Yes, my lord… You saved my life.'
Verica's lips parted in a pained smile. 'Yes, I did, didn't I?… Where's Cadminius?'
Cato looked round and saw that the captain of the bodyguard was struggling to sit up. The big man coughed, splattering blood down his chest.
'Mandrax!' Cato called out. 'Look after the king.'
Once the standard bearer had the king cradled against his chest, Cato squatted down beside Cadminius, reaching around the man's shoulders to keep him propped up. He was breathing in shallow gasps that rattled in his throat as he looked up at Cato.
'The king?'
'He's safe,' said Cato.
Cadminius smiled faintly, satisfied that he had done his duty. 'I'm f inished…'
For an instant Cato thought of saying something reassuring, some lie to comfort the dying man, but then he simply nodded. 'Yes.'
'Cadminius!' Verica stretched a hand towards the best of his warriors, then snapped at Mandrax. 'Help me over to him!'
Cadminius' life was draining away fast and his mouth gaped as he struggled to draw breath. 'My lord!'
In the last moment, the warrior's fingers groped for Cato's hand, found it and clamped tight, as a sudden final reservoir of strength was spent. Then the pained expression round his eyes eased and his fingers lay limply across Cato's palm. Cato watched him a moment, to be sure there was nothing more to be done, no last vestige of life to be eased into oblivion, then he rose to his feet and looked round.
The survivors of the Wolf Cohort stood about the body, silent and strained. Then Verica slowly dropped to his knees beside Cadminius. He reached out a hand to Cadminius' face and tenderly brushed away a strand of hair. Cato quietly backed away; this was a moment for the Atrebatans. Whatever the bond that existed between him and these men, there was a deeper one of race and blood that the centurion would never share.