Not a Roman soul was left alive.
Gaius kept running as the cries grew more intense, more chaotic. As he ran, it seemed to him that day turned to night, and day again until he arrived at a spot where several centuries of Romans had formed up behind a shield wall. Rain poured from the heavens to clang on their armour, and Gaius could hear the call of commands faintly behind the din.
From the edges of the forest surrounding the broad field where the Romans stood about their banners, there emerged thousands of barbarian men. Their dark silhouettes were accented with sickle, sword, and spear. They were in their bloodlust now, not to be turned from the m******e.
Yet they did not charge.
The Germans seemed to enjoy baiting the Romans like a wounded bear, too tired from days of fighting.
Gaiu
