The pair looked at each other. 'Run for it, or fight?' Romulus asked.

'They'd ride us down like dogs,' snarled Sabinus. 'We fight!'

Pleased by his comrade's reaction, Romulus nodded.

They moved to stand side by side, and prepared to die.

Two spears whistled by, but missed. That left four Numidians, each of whom had one or two shafts left. The enemy riders were expert shots from close range, and Romulus knew that, without shields, the chances of not being injured or killed in the next few moments were slim to none.

That was until he heard the strident clamour of bucinae ring out behind him.

The Numidians saw what was happening before Romulus did. Their faces creased with anger, and they pulled up. One threw a spear in a last futile gesture, and then the four horsemen turned and fled.

Romulus looked around and saw a wedge of legionaries charging towards them, their shields raised high. In their midst was Atilius. He gasped with delight. The senior centurion must have been watching to see how they got on. There could be no other explanation for their rescue. Followed by Sabinus, Romulus trotted over.

'Didn't know you could ride,' he muttered.

'I grew up on a farm,' explained Sabinus. 'We always had a few nags about the place.'

Romulus clapped him on the shoulder. 'I owe you one.'

'My pleasure.' Sabinus grinned, and Romulus knew he'd made a comrade for life.

Atilius halted his men as the two pounded in. 'Get inside,' he ordered, shoving legionaries aside. 'There's no time to waste.'

Gratefully they obeyed, and the wedge did a swift about-turn. Romulus glanced at the Numidian lines. To his surprise, the enemy cavalrymen were not trying to attack. Instead, they were milling around, shouting at each other. A few had even galloped off to the south. It didn't take much for fear to spread, thought Romulus. It was like watching the ripples in a pool after a stone went in. Riders looked at the ones who'd gone, and then followed. Then a few more did the same. Before the wedge had rejoined their comrades, the entire mounted force had disappeared in a great cloud of dust.

'You killed Petreius then?' asked Atilius.

Romulus flushed. 'No, sir, just wounded him.'

'It was a good enough effort. He must have fled the field,' the senior centurion said with a satisfied grin. 'Look! The whoresons have lost their taste for a fight.'

Romulus stared at the Numidian infantry, who were fleeing en masse from the centre. The cavalry on the far flank wouldn't stay and fight now, when all their companions were running away. With daylight fading, it meant that they had won the vital respite Caesar's cohorts needed to retreat safely. Romulus let out a gusty sigh, realising that he was exhausted. Yet his satisfaction over what he and his comrades had managed was far stronger than his aching muscles.

'It was well done.'

Romulus looked up to find Atilius' gaze upon him. 'A joint effort, sir. I couldn't have done it without Sabinus here, and Paullus too.'

'Is Paullus dead?'

'Yes, sir.'

'Many good legionaries have fallen today,' said Atilius sadly. After a moment, though, his face cleared. 'Thanks to you both, many will live to fight again. Caesar will hear of this.'

Romulus thought his heart would burst with pride. The Pompeian forces soon called it a day and pulled back to their camp. With night fast approaching, the battle could no longer be conducted effectively. Labienus had failed to annihilate the foraging party, and missed a golden chance to capture or kill the Pompeians' greatest enemy: Caesar.

As a result, the journey back to Ruspina was uneventful. In good order, Caesar's men marched and sang, aware that they'd had a lucky escape. Romulus couldn't get over Caesar's tactics, which had been both stubborn and courageous. Few leaders would have had the self-belief to continue fighting in such a desperate situation with fearful, inexperienced troops. Making his cohorts face different ways had been improvisation of the finest quality, as had the decision to launch a last ditch counter-attack. Crassus, the only other Roman whom Romulus had served under, had possessed little of the ability which shone from practically every action of Caesar's.

The next day, he and Sabinus were ordered to Caesar's headquarters and Romulus' excitement reached fever pitch. Atilius had been as good as his word, commending them both for bravery, and Romulus a second time for his initiative and effort in wounding Petreius. The senior centurion told them both about it just before they'd turned in, which meant that neither man slept well. They rose long before dawn, cleaning and polishing the kit they'd stripped from dead legionaries the previous evening. The battlefield had been littered with corpses, so it hadn't been hard to find mail shirts and helmets which fitted.

'What do you think he'll say to us?' asked Sabinus, combing out the horsehair crest on his helmet.

'How should I know?' Romulus retorted with a grin.

'You've met him before.'

Romulus didn't talk about receiving his manumission, but, like everyone else, Sabinus would have heard the story. All the same, his comrade's awe came as a slight shock to him. It wasn't that surprising, though, he supposed. Very few ordinary soldiers ever met Caesar directly. It wasn't as if the general went about the camp every night, swapping stories over a few cups of acetum. Caesar held a status not far short of divine among the ordinary rank and file, so to have held a conversation with him was unusual. Romulus felt a surge of pride at this. 'Caesar's a soldier,' he said. 'So he appreciates courage. I imagine he'll say that and give us each a phalera.'

Sabinus looked pleased. 'Some extra cash would come in handy too. My wife's always bitching about how little I send her.'

'You're married?'

Sabinus grinned. 'Chained to, more like. Have been for ten years or more. Three kids living, last time I was home. She keeps the farm going with the help of a few slaves. It's only a little place, about halfway between Rome and Capua.' He caught Romulus' wistful look. 'You'll have to come and stay when we're demobbed. Help me take in the crops, roll a slave girl or two in the hay.' He winked. 'If we survive that long, of course.'

'I'd like that,' said Romulus. The idea of having a wife, a family, a place to go back to was immensely appealing. As a former slave, he'd never really thought about such things, but it was easy to see how much it meant to Sabinus, despite the deprecating remarks. What have I to look forward to? Romulus wondered. Other than finding Fabiola and killing Gemellus, precious little. Where would I live? What could I do? Greatly disquieted by these thoughts, he was grateful for the arrival of Atilius. They both scrambled up and stood to attention.

The senior centurion studied them with a practised eye. 'Not bad,' he said. 'You almost look like soldiers now.'

This was the nearest Atilius got to praise, and they both grinned self-consciously.

'Come on then,' he ordered. 'Can't keep the general waiting, can we?'

'No, sir.'

The other members of their contubernium muttered their good wishes as the pair scurried after Atilius like eager puppies.

It wasn't a long walk to the principia, the headquarters, which was situated at the intersection of the Via Praetoria with the Via Principia. These, the two main roads in the massive camp, ran north-south and east-west respectively. The area in front of the huge pavilion which operated as Caesar's office and command centre was already filled with hundreds of legionaries, come to witness the awards ceremony. There was no sign of the general yet, but his senior staff officers were grouped by the tent's entrance. Resplendent in their polished cuirasses, gilded greaves and feathered helmets, they looked magnificent. Twenty hand-picked soldiers from Caesar's party of Spanish bodyguards stood along the pavilion's wall, their irregular dress and weapons at odds with the rest of those present. Every legion's eagle was present, held proudly upright by its aquilifer. The general's own standard, the red vexillum, was also on prominent display. A quartet of trumpeters watched keenly to see when Caesar would emerge.