'You know what to do,' Fabiola shouted at Benignus.

'Kill as many of the bastards as possible, and then retreat inside,' came the answer.

'Mithras protect you all,' she called back, her heart thumping against her ribs in a combination of fear and excitement.

Benignus gave Fabiola a grim nod before joining his men, who had formed a tight defensive arc around the entrance. Preparing to take the brunt of the attack, he and the five gladiators formed the centre. Like a line of legionaries, they moved shoulder to shoulder. Neither side were using shields, which meant that casualties would come thick and fast.

First blood went to Fabiola's fighters. A burly man with a long-handled axe who fancied himself against Benignus came screaming in a few steps ahead of his companions with his weapon raised high. Fabiola flinched; the curved blade would fatally injure or remove a limb with ease. She needn't have worried. Holding his club by the ends, Benignus lifted his arms and used it to meet the swingeing blow full on. Sparks flew into the air as the iron axe struck the profusion of metal studs on the club's surface. Instead of cutting Benignus' head in two, it bit two fingers' depth into the wood. Frantic, the axeman tried in vain to pull his weapon loose. With an evil smile, Benignus used his club to yank his struggling opponent closer before delivering a huge kick to the groin. The screaming thug dropped to the ground in a heap, whereupon the doorman ripped the axe free. Grasping his club with both hands, he brought it down with all his strength.

Fabiola had seen joints of meat split open with a cleaver many times before. Until that moment, though, she'd never seen a man's skull opened so easily. When Charon came into the arena to check that all the fallen gladiators were dead, she always looked away. Now, she was rapt. With a sickening crunch, Benignus' club smashed his enemy's head apart. A fine red mist sprayed into the air and small lumps of gelatinous brain matter flew everywhere. A number splattered off the doorframe by Fabiola's head. She wished they had been from Scaevola.

The remainder of his heavies crashed into her defenders' line an instant later. The confined space of the laneway magnified the clash of weapons and screams to that of thunder. Swords bit deep into flesh and men tussled with each other, punching, wrestling and even biting if the opportunity presented itself. Fabiola danced from foot to foot, unconsciously mimicking her men's movements. She had already drawn her gladius, and only Vettius' restraining arm was preventing her from joining the fray. 'You're not to go out there,' he muttered firmly. 'That's our job.' Fabiola obeyed, knowing he was right.

To her horror, things started to go badly almost at once. First to go was the defensive arc around the doorway. Although Fabiola's men had cut down five more of their enemies, they had lost three of their own. No one was left to fill the gaps, and in a heartbeat a pair of thugs had wriggled inside the half circle, throwing themselves straight at the doorway. If that could be taken, the battle was won. Locked in their own struggles for survival, Benignus and his comrades could do nothing about it.

Vettius politely shoved Fabiola to one side. Leading three men outside, he despatched the first ruffian with a sword thrust to the chest. Unfortunately the second managed to badly hurt one of the doorman's companions before his head was severed from behind by a gladiator. The respite was momentary. Benignus was nursing a flesh wound to his chest, and a secutor was down. Roaring for more blood, the thugs pushed in even harder, their weapons licking out hungrily like so many snakes' tongues. Fabiola could see that if she didn't call her men back in, they'd all be killed.

'Pull back,' she screamed. 'Get inside.'

Fabiola's fighters were only a few steps away, but two more were slain before they could gain the safety of the brothel. Standing just inside the entrance, she watched in horror as, pleading for their lives, they were hacked apart. Benignus was last inside, managing somehow to smash a thug's shoulder into smithereens with his club before the door slammed shut. Panting heavily, the doorman slid home the bolts. Quickly the others shoved forward the heavy items of furniture as fists and weapons hammered futile blows on the other side. Colourful insults filled the air as both sides recovered their strength after the brutal encounter. Although brief, it had been energy-sapping.

Fabiola was confident that their enemies' efforts would come to nothing. Unless of course they'd brought a battering ram. Busying herself by attending to the wounded, she tried not to think of that eventuality. To her relief, Benignus was not badly hurt. Once she'd cleaned the gash with some acetum, one of the gladiators used a needle and some linen thread to stitch him up. Several of the others also had minor injuries. Only one man was critically hurt, suffering a deep slash on his right thigh which had cut down to the bone. A major blood vessel had been severed which pulsed out bright red blood all over the mosaic floor. Fabiola could not believe he was still alive. There was already a huge pool of it around the semi-conscious man. It was only after a tourniquet of rope and pieces of wood had been tied round the top of his leg that the bleeding stopped. Whether he survived was another matter.

By the time everyone had been attended to, the torrent of abuse from outside had almost stopped. Fabiola began to feel uneasy. Surely Scaevola's rabble wouldn't give up this easily? Opening the door would be far too dangerous, so she hurried to one of the bedrooms which had a window on to the street. Like most large houses, the brothel's exterior was almost featureless. Just a few windows – high up and thankfully too small to admit a man – were present in the front wall. While this feature facilitated privacy and security, it was extremely difficult to see what was going on outside.

Standing on a stool, Fabiola peered through the green pane of glass. An expensive luxury, the small pane distorted the world beyond. All she could see was a group of men talking and pointing at the Lupanar. Worryingly, there were now far more of them, so reinforcements had arrived. A central, stocky figure appeared to be ordering the rest about. Fabiola's pulse shot up. Was it Scaevola? She couldn't be sure. Holding her breath, she watched for some time.

There was no mistaking the ladders' shape when they came into view. Fabiola's spirits plunged. This was an eventuality she hadn't thought of. The men carrying them were directed to move up to the brothel's wall, and she cursed bitterly. By lifting the tiles, the thugs would gain access to the roof space and then the whole interior of the Lupanar. With more than twenty men, they could attack in multiple places. She would have to divide her forces among the network of rooms, in the hope of containing their enemies' ingress. Yet Fabiola panicked as she counted the ladders.

There were five.

She jumped to the floor, shouting for Vettius and Benignus.

One option remained. They would have to pull back to the central courtyard, which could only be accessed by two doors. There at least they could give a good account of themselves before they died. Fabiola knew that her fate and that of the prostitutes would not be that easy, though. The thugs would not be able to resist the temptation of so much flesh, and Scaevola wanted to finish what he'd begun years before. Fabiola's flesh crawled at the memory and the anticipation of so much horror, but she did not allow her resolve to waver. One of the doormen could be detailed with the job of killing her and the women before they were captured.

Clutching her gladius, Fabiola ran to the reception.

All her dreams and hopes had come to this.

To nothing.