Centurion Page #2

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Tight! Quickly!

Steady, boys. Shields!

Watching!

Whatever comes out

of that mist, lads, you will hold the line.

Quintus, ride to the rear.

Tell Centurion Remus

to pull the column back.

- Make a hole.

- Keep watching!

Get ready!

Watching.

Hold the line!

Stand tall!

- Quintus.

- Bothos.

- You made it.

- Yeah. This man saved my life.

Brick, here.

- The General?

- No.

We've got to move.

- Can you make it?

- Yeah.

Come on.

Let's get moving.

In the chaos of battle,

when the ground beneath your feet

is a slurry of blood, puke, piss,

and the entrails of friends

and enemies alike,

it's easy to turn to the gods for salvation.

But it's soldiers who do the fighting

and soldiers who do the dying.

And the gods never get their feet wet.

- Thax.

- Thank the gods some of us made it.

Only you?

Macros, second cohort.

Leonidas, junior scout and peltast.

- Are we all that's left?

- We were outsmarted.

That's all. Time to go home.

We need to find the General's body.

He deserves a nobler tomb than this.

The General's still alive.

- Are you sure?

- I saw them take him away in chains.

- Which way?

- North.

- Then we follow north.

- You would go after the Picts?

They'll have patrols sweeping

these forests for survivors.

- We might as well slit our throats.

- If the General's alive, it's our duty.

Yaargh!

- Where did you come from?

- From the kitchens.

Good work, soldier.

My name's Tarak.

I'm not a soldier, I'm a cook.

Not any more.

Scavenge what you can,

food supplies, weapons.

Ditch your armour. We travel light.

Sh*t! That Macros can move.

He used to be a marathon runner

before he joined up.

- How do you know that?

- We make the food, we know everything.

Aargh!

Take cover.

Aargh!

Aargh!

I knew we should never have trusted

that b*tch.

I know where they've taken the General.

Move out.

This way. The cave.

Get up those mountains. Get up!

Here, some food.

No!

Death Caps. They can kill you in minutes.

To the untrained eye, they look similar

to these, which are delicious.

Thanks.

Tarak. It's Assyrian, right?

Yes.

But it's not my real name.

It was given to me.

- What's your real name?

- I doubt you could pronounce it.

It's from the mountains of

the Hindu Kush where I was born.

Leonidas, right?

- Greek father, sir.

- Move closer to the fire.

- Where are you from, Bothos?

- I'm from the army.

It's all I've ever known.

They picked me up from the street,

trained me, told me I could better myself.

So, tell me, Bothos.

Do you feel better or worse?

Macros?

I escaped with my life

by running from Numidia.

Didn't stop until I reached Greece.

Then I ran for sport.

Now I'm running for my life again.

We're all a long way from home.

- This was supposed to be my last tour.

- Still could be.

Had my eye on a farm in Tuscany,

where the sun warms the skin.

Brick...

What kind of name is that, anyway?

Short, sir... for Ubrickulius.

Your mother must have been... wise.

She was a f***ing comedian.

"Brick" it is, then.

Get some sleep. I'll stand first watch.

- General.

- Where are my men?

With your gods.

Traitor!

She would answer your charge

but she cannot speak. Do you know why?

She was a child

when she came to us seeking sanctuary.

Her own village had been slaughtered

as punishment for resisting Roman rule.

To set an example,

they burnt out her father's eyes.

They raped her mother

until she was begging to die.

Etain was forced to watch...

...before she too was raped.

And finally they cut out her tongue

that she may not speak ill

of the bloody Roman Empire.

She fled north

and came to us for shelter.

We raised her

and made her one of our own.

And when she came of age,

we sent her back to you,

to feign allegiance

and deliver you into our hands.

The army is still dispersed.

When it's dark, we go in.

Come.

Urgh!

Come on.

Brick, Bothos, with me.

The rest of you, watch the perimeter.

General.

- The Legion?

- Only myself and a small cohort remain.

Oh, f***.

Oh, sh*t.

Come on.

Leave me.

Shut up.

- We need an axe.

- Leave!

We will not abandon you, sir.

What's left of the Legion

is yours to command. Now go.

We have to leave.

Go now!

Get them home.

That's for the Ninth.

Where's Thax?

Had to take care of a small problem.

I've got the General's helmet.

Where is he?

We couldn't free him. Come on.

We came all this way for nothing!

F***.

See what you have done?

Before you die, know that the men

who did this will not live to tell your tale.

Well, let's get on with it, then.

Your Roman friends should have known

cold iron does not bend. It breaks.

Well, what are you waiting for?

Do you fear me?

No man brave enough?

Let's see what you're made of...

she-wolf.

Go!

Come on. We need to keep

moving while we have the lead.

- On foot, over this?

- Where they may hesitate, we must go.

We keep moving. North.

But our lines are to the south.

And that's where

they'll be looking for us.

Look... we can't outrun them.

So we have to outsmart them.

We head north, throw them off our trail,

then double back, west, then south.

It may take days, even weeks.

But we're so far behind enemy lines,

it's our only chance of getting home.

Come on!

You'll be needing this, then, Centurion.

When the Picts

come after you, they never stop.

They can run for hours, ride for days.

They barely eat and rarely sleep.

Etain, like the wolf,

has learned to hunt from birth.

It is part sense, part instinct.

She can read the terrain,

search for signs of passing,

run her quarry to ground

and close in for the kill.

Now she hunts Romans.

Now we are the prey.

Move! Keep moving!

Stop!

- Leo, we've got to keep moving!

- No. We need to rest.

- I can't go on, I'm too cold.

- Come, take him.

Brick, find shelter,

anywhere out of this wind.

Enough. Help me.

He's slowing us down. Just say the word

and I'll take care of it.

We live united or die divided...

starting with you.

You can stick this out if you want,

but first chance I get,

I'm taking care of myself.

It's your funeral.

When they paint their faces

in the blue woad,

it is more than just a decoration.

It is a sacred rite.

To the Picts,

it means they'd sooner die than fail.

It means for them...

there is no turning back.

These men are the best I've ever seen.

Am I worthy enough to lead them?

My father taught me that in life,

duty and honour matter above all things.

A man without his word

is no better than a beast.

I made a promise to a general

to get his soldiers home.

That is my task.

That is my duty.

Not bad for a Greek. Come on.

Drink while it's hot.

- What is that?

- The stomach.

The moss inside is half digested.

Try it, it's good.

Quintus. They'll have heard him

from miles away.

What's wrong?

Move! Move! Move!

Move! Move!

This way!

Move. Come on, let's go.

Come on, get up!

Come on!

They're coming!

- They're closing.

- Come on! Get your arses up here.

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