45
As I got to my feet at the side of the aquarium a stray bullet from a musket whined overhead like a drowsy bee. A wounded man at my feet, writhing in agony, raised his hand to attract my attention.
‘Kill me, please…’
If I’d had a g*n I would’ve given him the small mercy he was asking for because I could’ve despatched him in an instant. But under the circumstances, I had to leave him to suffer. The lives of the people I cared for depended on quick action. There was no time to spare on a mercy killing, not even the minute or two it would’ve taken to throttle him. I surveyed the scene to work out what our next move should be.
Of the perhaps 50,000 plebs who’d have been in the stands when we arrived with the liberated prisoners, as many as 40,000 remained. Thousands had been killed by g
