The Gladiator - Scarrow Simon (бесплатная регистрация книга txt) 📗

It was too late. The ladder parties came running forward out of the darkness. Ajax indicated the spears. 'Between those. Make straight for the wall!'

They ran past, carrying the hastily assembled ladders under their arms, and crossed over the belt of the Roman defences. All made it safely through, except one of the men from the last team, who suddenly screamed in agony, released his grip on the ladder and collapsed on to the ground, howling as he pulled the spike out of his crippled foot. Ajax ignored him as he stormed after the ladder parties and raced on towards the wall. Behind him came the rest of the men, urged on by Chilo, as he bellowed at them to get forward and pass between the spears.

Ahead of the rebels the defenders were pointing them out and shouting their cries of warning. More Romans spilled out on to the battlements above the gatehouse, and a moment later there was a flare of gleaming flames and a bundle of oil-soaked rags arced over the parapet and roared as it tumbled down the wall and rolled away from the base towards the ditch. In the light of the bright flames the ladder parties were easily observed and sentries began to heft their javelins, ready to hurl them into the figures streaming out of the night. The shrill notes of the trumpet had been taken up by others across the city and up on the acropolis, and Ajax knew that time was against him now.

He reached the ditch and paused near the edge to wave the ladder parties on. 'Get over! Fast as you can!'

The first four men carrying their ladder stumbled and slid down the slope into the ditch, crossed the bottom and began to scale the far side, each using his spare hand to scrabble for purchase on any tufts of grass or exposed roots. The head of a javelin buried itself in the soil by Ajax and he instinctively raised his shield and hunched down, watching for danger. There were more men appearing along the top of the wall all the time, and he felt the first cold stab of anxiety in his guts over the fate of the attack. Should he have taken this risk? Was this more about finding and killing that centurion than attempting to take the enemy by surprise?

The other ladder parties rushed past him, scrambling across the ditch and up the other side before making straight for the base of the wall to set their ladders in place. More burning faggots flared down from above, clearly revealing the ladders and the men in the lurid orange hue of their flames. The rebels made easy targets now, and Ajax saw the first man fall, skewered by a javelin that passed through his back and on down deep into his leg. The man released his grip and dropped to the side in terrible agony. His hands groped round to the shaft of the javelin and feebly tried to pull it free, only to cause fresh agonies that made him scream. A second man was killed under the first ladder as a large stone crushed his head.

There was a sudden rush of men past Ajax as the rest of Chilo's war band surged across the ditch and up the far side before making for the ladders held in place by their comrades. Now, many more missiles were being thrown down from above and could hardly fail to find a target in the wave of rebels racing towards the wall.

'Keep going!' Ajax bellowed.' Up the ladders!'

Springing forward, Ajax joined the rush struggling across the ditch. He kept his shield up, and it slammed back into him as a body fell against the front. He threw his weight to one side, over his steady foot, in order to keep his balance, then thrust hard to make sure the body fell away. He continued, gritting his teeth once as a stone cracked off the corner of his shield. Then he was at the base of the ladder, heart pounding.

'Move aside!' he shouted into the face of the man about to climb the first rung. One more was ahead of him, halfway up already. On either side more men had reached the ladders and were starting to ascend the wall. Ajax transferred his spear to his shield hand, grasped the side of the ladder and began to scale the rungs one at a time. In front of him he could see that the stones had been crudely laid without mortar and he cursed the fact that his army had no siege weapons of any kind. He imagined a catapult or a covered ram would make short work of the hastily repaired wall. There were shouts from above as the Romans be came aware of the danger of the men climbing up towards them. Glancing up, he saw the dim shapes of heads leaning over the parapet and there was a thud as another stone glanced off his shield.

'Target those men on the wall!' Chilo called out. 'Use stones! Rocks! Anything they throw at us!'

Some of the rebels stooped to pick up whatever came to hand and hurled it up at the enemy, driving some of them back. Some missiles clattered back down, falling on the men below, but did little harm as they bounced off the armour that had been taken from the bodies of Marcellus's men. The man ahead of Ajax reached the last rung as the ladder gave out close to the parapet. He swung his leg up and over and disappeared from view as Ajax climbed up into his place. His heart was beating wildly and he felt a heightened sense of vulner-ability and fear that went beyond the normal tense anxiety of the arena, or any battle he had ever fought in. His right hand groped up the rough stonework until his fingers reached the edge. Sliding his hand over the parapet, he grasped the inside of the wall and heaved himself up, swinging his foot up as he went. Even though he had a firm purchase with his hand and foot, it still took some effort to lift his weight, burdened by armour and the spear, over the parapet and on to the wall.

Ajax landed lightly on his feet, and quickly transferred his spear back into his right hand as he sheltered behind his shield. He rose up, glancing to both sides. The man who had climbed the wall ahead of him was battling to the right, desperately defending the foothold he had gained at the top of the ladder. Ajax turned the other way and saw a section of Romans struggling to dislodge the ladders further along as they stabbed down with their javelins and tried to lever the ladders away from the wall. Luckily they had been preoccupied with the threat immediately in front of them and had not seen him. Down in the city he saw scores of the enemy piling out of side streets into the base of the gatehouse and making for the stairs to reinforce their comrades facing the rebels.

Ajax lifted his spear and switched to an overhand grip, resting the head of the shaft on the shield rim as he moved towards the defenders. He took a quick glance back and saw that another man had reached the wall.

'Follow me,' he ordered as he advanced along the narrow walkway. He closed to within ten feet of the nearest Roman before he was noticed. The man barely had time to turn before the gladiator was upon him, thrusting with his spear. The iron head punched into the hand thrown up in a vain effort to ward the blow off. The point passed through it and on into the man's throat, cutting through windpipe and spine before bursting out the back of his neck. Ajax thrust his shield out, knocking the body to one side as he wrenched the spear back, ripping it free before concentrating on his next opponent. A burly optio had succeeded in tipping one of the ladders back and now turned to face Ajax, snatching out his sword as he raised his shield.

For an instant the two men sized each other up. Ajax could tell at once that the optio was an experienced and able fighter. His balance was good and he had lowered himself into a crouch, from which position he could spring into a powerful attack the moment he saw his chance.

Lifting his spear slightly, Ajax feinted towards the optio's face. The man parried it easily and resumed his posture. Then, with a sudden snarl, he lunged forward, his point stabbing towards Ajax's groin. Ajax swung his shield round and deflected the blow, and instantly thrust again with his spear before the optio could recover. But the man was surprisingly nimble for one his size and he ducked under the strike.