Deacon sat atop his horse, Eudor and Hector at his sides. Together, they watched the rebel formed assemble. Behind them, the Athenians flooded the Acropolis, now nearly fifteen thousand strong. They stood strong, ready to fight to the death. The rebels before them formed up, no Romans to lead their assault. Several minutes of painful silence passed, as both armies psyched the other out. It was the rebels who broke first, as they began to ascend the flight of stairs leading up to the Acropolis. Spears, throwing axes and arrows splintered the rebels ranks as they charged.

Deacon dismounted his horse, and raised his shield, as an axe cleaved into it. A huge dent scarred the shield, as Deacon slew his attacker. Eudor cut another man down; the dead man's axe cleaving through another of the enemy. Swords bristled from the rebel ranks, as Hector deflected one with his sword, and blocked another with his shield. A third burst forward, and punched into his armour, winding the archer. Eudor ran to his side, as he fell to the stone floor, just outside the door of the Acropolis.

Deacon watched his friend fall to his knees, clutching the injured archer. Deacon watched a spear emerge from the rebel ranks, and he ran to his friend's side. Using his shield as a barrier, he sliced the spear in two, as the pointed part dropped uselessly to the ground. Deacon stood in front of Eudor, as he stood. A raider burst froward, clutching a huge axe, running straight for Deacon. An Athenian blade caught him in the side, and the man kept running, blood spilling fom the wound. Deacon turned to face him, as the huge axe came down. Deacon, on impulse lifted his shield, and swung the sword toward the man's face. The axe cleaved through the shield, and Deacon dropped it before the man sliced off his arm. The shield clattered to, as Deacon fell to his keens, avoiding the blow. He swung with his sword again, this tiem at the man's knees, grabbing the other blade that had struck the man. He slashed both knees and was rewarded with a painful groan.

The man dropped to the floor, blood splattering onto Deacon. Deacon held the two swords against the man's neck. A spear came flying from the rebel army, and Deacon pushed the man into it. The huge brute dropped onto more raider's, as the Athenians pushed them back. Almost one hundred Athenians lay dead, the victims of stupid, and mistaken blows.

Hector was standing, his sword in both hands, as the rebels charged again. The Athenians front line buckled, and the entire Athenian front line collapsed. Hector felt a huge spear go into his side, splitting the leather straps on his armor. Blood gushed from the wound, and the archer slowly dropped to the ground, his blood spilling onto the steps of the Acropolis. Hector's sword dropped, as his mouth gaped open. His eyes glazed over, and the last thing he heard was the cry of his name from Eudor's lips. He turned his head, and smiled weakly, in his final act, before the limp body hit the floor, and rolled down the stairs.

The Athenians were losing ground quickly. Hundreds of Athenians had died in several minutes, due to the pounding numbers of rebels. Only mere minutes had passed since Hector's death, but the confined space meant the Athenians could not fight properly. Blood stained the stone of the Acropolis. "Spears!" A raider yelled, and hundreds of spears flew from the enemy ranks. At least two hundred Athenians collapsed to their knees, all around Deacon. Eudor lay behind Deacon, the only survivor of the vicious attack. Deacon dropped his shield, and grabbed a nearby sword, holding them both up, ready to fight. He looked to the horizon, then to the dead around him, and the living behind him.

A rebel stepped forward, fully clad in armour, and carrying a huge broadsword. The entire rebel army stepped back, as the man stayed in his position. The man swung his sword, and Deacon stepped aside. The man shoulder barged at Deacon, dropping his sword. Deacon pointed on sword out, and it broke upon the man's armour, as he hit the Thebian. Deacon was thrown up against the walls of the Acropolis, as the whole building shook. The Thebian dropped to his knees, and found a small gap in the shoes of his attacker. Deacon grabbed a nearby short sword, and rolled won the leather on the man's shoe. He looked up at him. "Achilles." Deacon stabbed the man's heel, and he dropped to the ground, unable to stand. Deacon climbed painfully to his feet. Removing the man's helmet, Deacon thrust his sword through the man's skull. He grabbed another sword, and stood in front of the rebels.

"Forward!" Adelphos yelled, Aristos and Belen also sitting on horses on either of his sides. Behind him , the combined might of Thebes and Corinth. Almost two weeks had passed since the rebels began their assault on Athens. Deacon watched them in amazement, as the Athenian army reformed around him, shields up. Within moments, the Thebians and Corinthians crashed into the flanks of the rebels. Hundreds of thousands of rebels lay dead already, their numbers almost two hundred thousand. Fifty thousand Thebians, and fifty thousand Corinthians, all riding horses, crashed into their flanks, as the Athenians charged them from the tops of the stairs.

The rebels were taken by surprise, as the first few minutes passed. Hundreds lay dead, all Greek, as Adelphos dismounted, and began fighting on foot, soon followed by Belen and Aristos. Cries of pain and death rang out, over and above the clattering of steel upon steel. Deacon held the line single handedly, as Eudor led the defence atop the stairs. The Thebians dismounted, and began reeking grievous casualties on foot. The Corinthians switched weapons, from swords to maces. They formed up, and rode forward, never stopping. In among them, Thebians charged, filling the gaps, and slaughtering every rebel near them.

Within hours, the rebel army had been decimated, but still stood. Most knew that victory was impossible, and fighting was hopeless, but they were surrounded. The rebels all remembered the first day of the assault, when the meager ten thousand strong force of Athenians stood before them. But, none of them had realised how strong of heart and will the Athenians were. Almost half the rebels had been killed, by the time the combat reached the Acropolis. But this, with the combined efforts of Athens, Thebes and Corinth was insane. The rebels lost all hope, the moment the Corinthians broke through their spear wall.

Hundreds of Corinthians had been killed, when they hit the spear wall. The rebels held their weapons, until the Corinthians were almost upon them, at which point they raised their spears. The entire Corinthian first, second and third lines were decimated. The Thebians held their shields high, as they charged forward also. Their axes and swords splintered the lines, as the Corinthians followed after them. Those two attacks broke their spear wall, and punctured a hole in the side of the rebel army.

At the top of the stairs, Deacon rolled, and slashed a man's knees, kicking him down the stairs. He was good to no-one anymore. Another attacker took his place, as a well placed spear pinned him down. Deacon sprinted back to the rest of the Athenians, as another round of spears flew from the rebels ranks. The Athenians shields were useless, and many more men died. The Athenians numbers had been slaughtered. A mere three hundred Athenians stood before the rebels, defending the Acropolis. Both armie stopped, for a split second.

"Like the Spartans before us, charge!" Deacon screamed, as he led the final assault. In front of him, and behind the rebels, the armies of Corinth and Thebes had destroyed the rest of the rebels. Another round of spears erupted from the rebel army, this time directed at the Thebians. Many Thebians dropped to the ground, dead from the spears. The Corinthians charged forward, as the rebels squeezed tight. In the single moment that the Athenians charged from one side, and the Corinthians from the other, followed by the Thebians, the rebels knew they were doomed, but there was no escape.

As the sun set, Deacon removed his sword from the stomach of the final rebel, as a roar of victory erupted from all victors. Eudor limed down the stairs, to Deacon, carrying Hector's almost unrecognizable body. "It was tough victory." Deacon nodded. "But a victory at least."