Marcus cut across the young officer's front, deflecting the Cane's next blow, rather than attempting to match strength with strength, and thrust up at an angle into the Cane's lower abdomen. The Cane fell back with a howl of pain, and Marcus bellowed two of his veterans into position to shield Crassus.

The press of combat abruptly loosened, relaxing, and Marcus realized that the Prime Cohort, followed closely by the rest of the First Aleran, had cleared the earthworks. Braying Canim horns began to blow, and the enemy moved into a general retreat, falling back from their positions and vanishing into the rain and the dark.

Crassus unstrapped his shield from his left arm, his face pale. Marcus turned and glanced at the young officer's arm. "Shoulder's out of its socket," he said. "Need to get you to a healer, sir."

"Let them have the men who are bleeding, first. I'm not feeling it right now, anyway." He wiped his blade clean on the mantle of a fallen Cane, sheathed it, and looked around soberly. "Have the engineers put the river back on its course and recall them. Deploy the Sixth, Ninth, and Tenth Cohorts to a perimeter. Second through Fifth to erect a palisade. The rest in formation as a reserve."

Marcus saluted. "Sir."

"Wait," Maximus said. He stepped closer to Crassus and lowered his voice. "They're off-balance, Crassus. We need to press the attack, now, while we have the advantage."

"The objective was to take the ford," Crassus said. "We've done it."

"This is an opportunity," Max said. "We've got to press it. We might not get another chance like this to hit them when they aren't ready."

"I know," Crassus said. "It's almost too good to be true."

Marcus glanced up sharply at Crassus, and frowned.

Max scowled at Crassus. "You're giving the Canim too much credit, this time."

"Stop and think about this, Max," Crassus said. "It might hurt, but try to pretend you're a Canim for a minute. When else are you going to get a chance to launch an attack against an Aleran Legion isolated from the other two with it, on open ground, and in the dark, no less?"

Max glanced at Marcus. "First Spear? What do you think?"

Marcus grunted. "This is a textbook target of opportunity, sir. If you don't order the pursuit after a rout like this, the Senator isn't going to like it."

"But do you think this is a trap?" Maximus pressed.

"It would take a bloody brilliant soldier to manage it," Marcus replied.

"And Nasaug is," Crassus said. He glanced at Maximus, then out at the dark, his brow furrowing in thought for a moment. "You don't plan for what you think the enemy is going to do," he said, finally. "You plan for what he is capable of doing. I'm not sending the Legion out there blind."

Maximus shook his head. "I'm not eager to wrestle Canim in the dark, but if you don't order an advance, Amos is going to have your balls."

Crassus shrugged. "Let him try to collect them, then. We secure the ford, first. Get the men moving, First Spear."

Marcus saluted Crassus and turned to the nearest runner, doling out a list of instructions.

"Meantime, send the Marat on ahead," Crassus said. "They can see in the dark and can outrun the Canim. If they don't find the enemy in force out there, we'll send out the cavalry and keep the Canim on the run."

"I hope you know what you're doing," Max said.

"If we stay put, and I'm right, we save ourselves a lot of blood. If we stay put, and I'm wrong, we've still taken this position, and there are only two more between here and Mastings."

"Scipio would have advanced," Max said. "I'm sure of it."

Crassus rubbed at his injured shoulder, his expression undisturbed. "I'm not Scipio," he said. "And you have your orders."

Maximus glowered at Crassus for a moment, then slammed his fist to his chest and went to his horse. He mounted, then let out an explosive sneeze. The tall Antillan scowled up at the falling rain and nudged his horse into motion, passing near Marcus.

"Lying in bed with a book," he growled to Marcus. "And with the Ambassador, too, I'll wager."

Maximus nudged his horse into a trot, and a moment later, half an ala of Marat cavalry thundered through the captured earthworks and into the country beyond.

Marcus oversaw the positioning of the remainder of the Legion, with some of the men in advance positions, others erecting the mobile palisade wall behind them, and the rest standing in ranks in the center of their position, ready to march or fight should the need arise.

Once that was done, Marcus returned to find Crassus speaking to one of the senior officers of the First Senatorial Guard. The man was evidently angry, because he gestured extensively as he spoke. Crassus stared at the man with no expression on his face and spoke a single word in reply.

The Guard officer spat something in a harsh tone and strode away.

Marcus approached Crassus calmly. "Trouble, sir?"

Crassus shook his head. "The Senator's man. You were right."

The First Spear nodded. "Let's get you to the healers, sir."

"It can wait," Crassus said. "Apparently we've captured some more balests, and I want to make sure they are properly secured before-"

"With respect," Marcus said, "no, sir, it can't wait. Just because you can't feel the pain doesn't mean you aren't doing more damage to your shoulder. We're going to the healers, sir. Now."

Crassus arched an eyebrow in a gesture nearly identical to the captain's. Marcus supposed that he had learned it from Scipio. Then Crassus glanced down at his shoulder and gave Marcus a rueful smile. "If I was anyone else, I'd be ordering me to go to the healers, wouldn't I?"

"Yes, sir," Marcus said.

Crassus sighed, nodded, and the two of them turned to walk toward where Foss had set up his tents and healing tubs.

"Marcus," Crassus said quietly. "I haven't thanked you."

"For what, sir?"

"Your support. Your advice. I couldn't have taken over the Legion without your help."

"Comes with the job, sir," Marcus said.

Crassus shook his head. "It doesn't. You're always the one willing to go one step farther. You're the first one up in the morning and the last one to sleep at night. You push us all to do better. You keep discipline among the men without resorting to intimidation or humiliation. If you hadn't already won an honor name in the House of the Valiant, your service over the last few years would merit a place in the House of the Faithful."




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