Reassured, Venator dismissed the overseer and strode angrily toward the tent of Domitius Severus. He passed the personal emblem of the military detachment, a silver symbol of Taurus the bull atop a lance, and brushed aside the sentry who attempted to block his passage.

He found the centurion seated in a camp chair, contemplating a naked, unwashed barbarian woman, who sat on her haunches, uttering a chorus of strange vowel sounds. She was young, no more than fourteen. Severus was wearing a brief red tunic clasp over his left shoulder. His bare arms were ornamented with two bronze bands fastened around his biceps.

They were the muscled arms of a soldier, trained for the sword and shield. Severus did not bother to look up at Venator's sudden appearance.

"This is how you pass your time, Domitius?" snapped Venator, his voice coldly sarcastic. "Scorning God's will by raping a heathen child?"

Severus slowly turned his hard gray eyes to Venator. "The day is too warm to listen to your Christian tripe. My god is more tolerant than your god."

"True, but you worship a pagan."

"Purely a matter of preference. Neither of us has met our gods face to face. Who is to say who is right?"

"Christ was the son of the true God!"

Severus gave Venator a look of exasperation. "You have invaded my privacy. State your case and leave."

"So you can ravage this poor heathen?"

Severus did not answer. He rose, grabbed the chanting girl by the arm and threw her roughly on his camp cot.

"Would you care to join me, Junius? You may go first,"

Venator stared at the centurion. A chill of fear ran through him. The Roman centurion who led an infantry unit was expected to be a hard master. This man was merciless, a savage.

"Our mission here is finished," said Venator. "Macer and the slaves are preparing to seal off the storage cave. We can strike camp and return to the ships."

"Eleven months tomorrow since we left Egypt. One more day to enjoy the local pleasures will not matter."

"Our mission was not to pillage. The barbarians will seek revenge. We are few, they are many,"

"I'll match my legionaries against any horde the barbarians can throw against us."

"Your men have grown soft as mercenaries."

"They haven't forgotten how to fight," Severus said with a confident smile.

"But will they die for the honor of Rome?"

"Why should they? Why should any of us? The great years of the Empire have come and gone. Our once glorious city on the Tiber has turned into a slum. Little Roman blood runs in our veins. Most of my men are natives of the provinces. I am a Spaniard and you are Greek, Junius, In these chaotic days who can feel an ounce of loyalty toward an emperor who rules far to the east in a city none of us have ever seen?

No, Junius, my soldiers will fight because they are professionals and because they are paid to fight."

"It may be the barbarians will give them no choice."

"We'll deal with that scum when the time comes."

"Better to avoid conflict. I say we leave before dark-"

Venator was interrupted by a loud rumble that shook the ground. He rushed from the tent and stared at the cliff wall. The slaves had pulled the supports from under the crib, releasing a thundering avalanche that plunged over the cave opening, burying it beneath tons of massive boulders. A great dust cloud erupted and spilled into the ravine. The echoing rumble was followed by cheers from the slaves and legionnaires.

"It's done," said Venator, his voice solemn, his face weary. "The wisdom of the ages is safe."

Severus came and stood beside him. "A pity the same can't be said for us."

Venator turned. "If God grants us a smooth voyage home, what have we to fear?"

"Torture and execution," said Severus flatly. "We have defied the Emperor. Theodosius does not forgive easily. There will be no place for us to hide in the Empire. Better we find refuge in a foreign land."

"My wife and daughter . . . they were to meet me at our family villa at Antioch."

"The Emperor's agents have probably intercepted them by now. They are either dead or sold into slavery."

Venator shook his head disbelievingly. "I have friends in power who will protect them until my return."

"Friends can be threatened and bought."

Venator's eyes widened in sudden defiance. "No sacrifice is too heavy for what we have achieved. All would be for nothing if we did not return with a record and chart of the voyage. "

Severus was about to reply when he observed his second in command, Artofius Noricus, running up the slight grade toward the tent. The young legionary's dark face glistened in the noonday heat, and he was gesturing up at the edge of the low cliffs.

Venator held up a hand to ward off the sun and stared upward. His mouth pressed into a tight line.

"The barbarians, Severus. They have come to pay back the sack of their village."

It was as if the hills swarmed with ants. Over a thousand barbarian men and women stared down at the cruel intruders of their land. They were armed with bows and arrows, shields of leather hide and spears with chipped obsidian points. Some gripped clubs of rock tied to short wooden handles. The men wore only waistcloths.

They stood in stony silence, expressionless, savage, and as ominous as an approaching storm.

"Another force of barbarians has massed between us and our ships!"

Noricus shouted.

Venator turned, his face ashen. "This is the result of your stupidity, Severus." His voice was vicious with anger. "You have killed us all."

Then he dropped to his knees and began to pray.

"Your divinity will not Turn the barbarians into sheep, old man,"

Severus said sarcastically. "Only the sword can provide deliverance."

He turned and took Noricus by the arm and began issuing commands. "Order the bugler to sound battle assembly. Tell Latinius Macer to arm the slaves. Form the men in a tight fighting square. We'll march in formation to the river."

"Bugler!"

Noricus threw a taut salute and ran for the center of the camp.

The infantry unit of sixty soldiers quickly formed in a hollow square.

The Syrian archers took their place on the flanks between the armed slaves, facing outward, while the Romans formed on front and rear.

Screened in the center were Venator and his small staff of Egyptian and Greek aides and a three man medical unit.

The main infantry weapons of fourth-century Rome were the gladius, a double-edged pointed sword eighty-two centimeters long, and the pilum, a two-meter throwing and thrusting spear. for protection and armor, the soldiers wore an iron helmet with hinged cheek pieces that tied under the chin with a strap and looked like a jockey cap with the brim turned backward, a cuirass made up of overlapping metal plates encircling the body and covering the shoulders, and a guard worn over the shins called a greave-Their defensive tool was an oval shield made out of laminated wood.

Instead of rushing in to attack, the barbarians took their time and slowly encircled the column. At first they tried to draw the soldiers out of the solid lines by sending a few men up close who shouted strange words and made threatening gestures. But their heavily outnumbered foe did not panic and run as expected.