The big Gaul rose off his haunches and laughed, "Don't follow me, I'll be back" as he headed away from the escort, uphill towards the big tree. He was clearly outlined off the crest in his big checkered cloak as turned against the trunk, and the Baleare was the first to hear the faint crack from across the valley. "Down ! Everyone down !". The Gaul had the time to turn slightly-- "What ?"-- before his head snapped back, then sagged, broken, leaking, the huge body staying upright for a moment, before it toppled out of sight.

"What is it ?", the Carthaginian officer whispered, as if he could be heard by whoever had tracked them down. One of the Spaniards in the escort whispered back. "They've got a slinger on the other side". "That's-- impossible. It's just too far." Another faint crack, and a sharp thud among the bushes, above their position. "They've got a Baleare with them. One of our deserters. Shooting heavy". Another big stone thudding against the hillside, this time closer. "He can't see us if we don't move. He's trying to flush us out".

"Where is he ?". This time it was the Baleare who answered. "He's in the sheep pen next to the oak. He's using the shade and the wall to keep invisible.". Another stone crashed in the bushes, to their right, rolling away. "I know who it is", the Baleare added. "I recognize his style."

They stayed in the scrub the whole afternoon, as the shadows lengthened. The slinger across the valley could survey every part of their slope, and was now systematically ranging his stones, every few paces or so. Once he hit the Gaul's shield, which he had left on the ground; the sharp crack of the stone on wood drew half a dozen more, crashing in the same area with inhuman accuracy. Then the slinger grew bored, and threw his stones at random.

"Here comes trouble", whispered the Spaniard. The Romans were sending javelin-men across, to finish the job while the slinger pinned them down, or to flush them out for him.

"Someone has to stand up now and draw his attention while I shoot", said the Baleare, very quietly. "Are you insane ?", hissed the first Spaniard. The Baleare spoke again, quietly, insistently. "Someone has to stand up, count until three, and jump to his left. I'll can kill the other slinger". "How will you do that ?" another Spaniard almost shouted. "He'll just duck away".

The Baleare's answer, when it came, appalled them. "No, he won't. I'll use one of the bullets. We can go get it after dark. If we lose it we'll still have the others".