“Then no.”
“One hundred?”
Teriana looked at the razor-tipped spears pointing outwards and shook her head. “Everyone in the front will get impaled.”
“Only if Austornic’s lines keep their nerve and don’t break. But answer the question. How many men would you have to have to charge them with some certainty that you’d survive? Five hundred? A thousand?”
Her fingertips felt like ice, for it seemed no number would make running into those sharp pointssafe.“I’d go around. Attack them from the rear.”
“Let’s make it interesting and attack them from both sides. Austornic, your men are your own to command.”
Nic called an order, and with terrifying precision, the last rows turned to face the rear. It took them seconds, which meant unless they were truly caught by surprise, they’d meet the attack.
“What’s the point of this?”
And why does Nic look so worried?
“My point is that sometimes it’s not about size or numbers or skill, it’s about nerve. Andnerveis something I understand to be the forefront of everyone’s minds these days.” Marcus walked the length of the line, then turned to the mass of Thirty-Seventh. “You all know this exercise. No weapons. They break, you can give a good thrashing to everyone you get your hands on. As usual, anyone who gets overenthusiastic and maims someone will be docked six months wage. Clear?”
The Thirty-Seventh all nodded, even as Teriana blurted out, “Pardon?”
Marcus ignored her, turning back to the Fifty-First. “They are going to charge you. A few are a bit thick in the head, but generally speaking they won’t impale themselves for the sake of an exercise. Soif you hold your lines, it will be them who lose their nerve. Of course, if even a few members of your line break and make a run for it, you’ll have gaps that these men are experts at breaching, never mind what they’ll do if your lines get snarled. That said, if you do choose to run and make it to the wall, you’re free and clear. You’re all young and nimble, while this lot,” he gestured to the Thirty-Seventh, “have years of war injuries. You might be able to outrun them, but if they catch you, well…”
The Thirty-Seventh all laughed. The Fifty-First did not. As Racker approached, in the company of both Thirty-Seventh and Fifty-First medics, Teriana felt ready to be sick. She opened her mouth to argue against it, but Nic’s hand closed on her arm, the young legatus shaking his head.
“Now, there would be a reason your commander would ask you to hold a line against a greater force,” Marcus said. “Else he’d pull you back. So let’s create some stakes.”
Gibzen approached with a large rock, around which was wrapped a chain, a pair of manacles fastened to it. Shouldering among the Fifty-First, he dropped it in the middle of their ranks.
Marcus gestured to the rock. “Austornic.”
Without argument, Nic walked to the rock and allowed Gibzen to shackle him to it.
“Every last one of you might be able to break and make it to the wall, but not your legatus,” Marcus said. “So for his sake, I suggest you hold your lines or Nic is going to be black and blue for a month.”
“All right,” Servius bellowed. “Only what’s in it for us?”
Marcus walked over to Nic and fastened the other manacle to his ankle, which resulted in the Thirty-Seventh all hooting loudly.
“If any of you hit him in the head, I’ll castrate you!” Racker shouted. “But feel free to nominate one of your ranks to kick him in the balls since they are what keeps getting him into trouble!”
The Thirty-Seventh all roared with delight, then howled, “Servius! Servius!” The big legionnaire held up his hand. “Would be my honor.”
Marcus gave a nod of agreement, then fixed his eyes on Teriana. “Willing to test your nerve?”
This was madness.
Racker approached. “A reminder, sir, given you clearly are feeling more yourself: head injuries compound. Another blow to the skull might render you jabbering and drooling, unable to wipe your own ass. Show some care.”
Marcus shrugged, then shouted, “Teriana is a civilian, so no onecan hit her. But if she breaks and runs for it, I’ve heard that a certain outhouse isn’t up to camp standards.”
All the men screamed their approval.
She couldn’t very well decline when Nic faced a beating and she only faced scrubbing shit. “Fine.”
The boys parted to allow her to stand next to Nic, then tightened the formation around them. Teriana sucked in a breath as she looked out from behind three rows of spears. Three rows of shields. Three rows of armored bodies. With another behind her to protect her back.
None of which meant a gods-damned thing as Marcus shouted, “Remember the rules!” and the Thirty-Seventh retreated down the field.