He had to bite his tongue not to scream in terror. At this rate, the animal would seize him by the thigh, or groin. The pain would be unbelievable, and his death lingering, rather than the swift end suffered by the Gaul. Quintus could think of no way out. Desperately, he continued flailing out with his caligae. Confused, the animal growled, and it batted at him with a giant paw. It half ripped off one of Quintus’ sandals. A moan of fear ripped free of his lips at last. Footsteps pounded towards Quintus, and relief poured through his veins. His life might not be over. He was simultaneously consumed by shame. He did not want to live the rest of his days known as the coward who had had to be rescued from a bear. ‘HOLD!’ shouted his father. ‘But Quintus—’ Agesandros protested. ‘Must do this on his own. He said so himself,’ Fabricius muttered. ‘Stand back!’ Waves of terror washed over Quintus. In obeying his wishes, his father was consigning him to certain death. He closed his eyes.
