Spartacus

LEGIO LIBERA
9i
From that dream he awoke to the roar of the bucina,
and his tribune, a veteran from Syria, shouting in
his ears.
‘Cossinus ! The camp is attacked !’
(ii)
But it was already too late. In the evening haze,
over the palisades stormed the attacking bands of
slaves, men miners or shepherds or porters a month
before, now ragged, well fed, and a storming fury.
The sunlight was ruddy upon them, and Cossinus,
no man of action, stood staring aghast a long moment.
Again the bucina roared under the standard and
the soldiers, snatching armour and swords, ran for
the palisades. Reformed within the palisades they had
crossed, the slaves greeted the legionaries with a shower
of javelins and stones: then charged. They were bands
of Gauls, armed with great swords forged in the
wilds of Lucania. Swinging these with both hands,
their charge was irresistible.
In their van raced a giant, dark-faced, dark-haired,
swinging a giant axe, clad in the armour of a Roman
tribune. He clove down the centurion who guarded
the standard, hewed down the standard pole with
one sweep, then smote in through the hesitant Roman
ranks. Cossinus heard armour crackle under that
axe : a slave-titan, that, and a general to boot.
And, being a valorous man, for all that he knew
nothing of war or leadership, he took his sword and
helmet from the pavilion and ran swiftly towards the
battle. But by then it was no battle. Here and
there, in groups, the legionaries still fought, but already
the slaves swarmed over the camp, killing stragglers
and the wounded. Beside Cossinus ran a centurion :