Wow! You really reply fast!

The eagle rested on a branch of a tree near the battlefield, her eyes trained on a brawny Roman soldier crouched near his fallen teammate. She watched in horror as the soldier wept, his face buried into the other's bloodied tunic. She watched as the man lifted his face from the uniform and kissed the brow of his dying friend. Then she watched as the he rose to his full height, gathered his weapons, and began to tentatively march back into the battle, although she knew he desperately wanted to stay with his friend. Concerned for the bereaved soldier, the eagle beat her wings and launched into the sky, following the man overhead to witness his fate.

As she flew towards the battlefield, she heard the beating hooves of hundreds of horses. The soldier heard it too, and whipped in the direction of the sound. Cavalry was approaching. The soldier backed away from the sound of the horses, screaming for the other soldiers in his army, but no response came. Suddenly it occurred to the man he was alone. He glanced around the battlefield and saw his legion's standard. He darted towards it, wrapped his hands around the staff, and turned, facing the upcoming the cavalry with all the courage he could muster.

"Cavalry of Britannica, from whatever region you come, hear my words! I am Marcus, last of this Roman legion! Know that as long as I stand, my legion is not defeated. Come, horsemen, at your own risk!" He raised his standard high into the air, waving it proudly.

And, almost as if he had cast a magic spell, the cavalry stopped charging. Marcus grinned.

"That's right! Behold the glory of Rome, and of its−"

His speech was curtailed by the ghoulish guffaw that broke out within the cavalry. Marcus frowned.

"What's so funny?" he asked. "Huh?"

The leader of the cavalry answered, "Look at your standard!"

Marcus looked, and to his dismay he saw that the standard was broken. In the space where the rod should have curved into the shape of an eagle, there was nothing but air. Marcus bit his lip. The cavalry continued to laugh.

"Well, now," said the leader of the cavalry. "Don't cry! We'll take that broken toy of your hands." With that he gave a signal to his men. Marcus shuddered, his face stark white. He was dead.

Or so he thought. Before the cavalry could charge, a shrill screech ripped through the air. Suddenly Marcus heard the beating of wings near his ear. As he turned, he could not believe his eyes.

The eagle had perched on his standard!

Stunned by the sight, the aquifiler of the cavalry released his weapon and dismounted his horse. He placed his legion's standard in Marcus's free hand.

"Behold the glory of Rome!" shouted the leader. "And of its brave hero, Marcus!